With a barely audible click, the locket popped open. Stephanie leaned in closer, face contorting to get a better look. ‘What? This is just you as a little girl and …’ Stephanie’s echoing and sultry voice trailed off like the tide drifting, realization dawning. ‘Holy crap!’ she said, her eyes shooting up to get a better look at Ellie. ‘This whole time you were the real princess.’ She was practically hissing, although her expression made it clear that she was thinking that no one in a million years would have guessed Ellie was royalty.

‘Is that a good enough secret for you?’ Ellie asked.

Stephanie’s eyes stayed firmly locked on Ellie, until she laughed. A gorgeous, hearty cackle.

‘What tattoo do you want?’ she asked, still smiling. ‘Though I must warn you for health and safety reasons, on extremely rare occasions people experience reactions from henna.’

‘I know,’ Ellie said. In fact, she had first-hand experience of being one of those ‘extremely rare occasions’ that had left a tiny scar on her foot, and secretly she hoped her tattoo today would also burn a permanent mark.

Ignoring the way Stephanie’s eyes narrowed on her suspiciously, Ellie pulled a scrunched-up bit of paper from her trouser pocket and flattened it out on the desk to reveal the simple calligraphy depicting the Maravish word bol’shbrota.

‘What does it mean?’ Stephanie asked, already reaching for a silvery cone filled with henna mixture.

‘It means to do something painful for the sake of someone else.’

‘Like cruel to be kind?’

‘Sort of,’ Ellie replied, watching the sharp point disappear beneath the earthy mixture. ‘Except this means you’re being cruel to yourself as well.’

‘So what are you doing that’s so cruel?’

The smell of the henna caught in Ellie’s nose, a thick scent like clay, and she chewed her lip before answering. ‘I’m going to rescue a little princess from a nasty pack of wolves.’

Ellie made it back to the dorm just before curfew.

Easing the door open carefully to not make a scene, she found Lottie locking something away in her bedside drawer.

‘Ellie!’ Lottie rushed over to wrap her up in a hug she didn’t deserve, but she leaned into it anyway, filling herself up with the sweet smell of roses that clung to Lottie’s hair. ‘Where were you? It’s nearly curfew.’

‘Sorry about earlier,’ Ellie whispered, ignoring how her tattoo hissed at her. ‘I’ve sorted my head out.’

Lottie beamed. ‘Good. I knew you would. Do you want to get started on your Florence Ivy tribute for the PoP?’ she added, already rifling through her books. ‘It’ll be a nice distraction, and we can talk about Haru tomorrow.’

‘Sure.’ Ellie smiled back, allowing herself this moment to take her in, her golden curls and tickled pink cheeks, the way she spread warmth around her like she was the sun itself.