“There is a lake not far from Cel Ceredi,” she said. “It does not freeze in the winter because it is supplied by a spring. I think it might work, though it is close to a village.”

“Do you worry that we will be interrupted?” I asked.

“I worry that we will be hunted,” she said.

It was a valid concern given what had happened during court. We had not been able to quell the hysteria over witchcraft, and Solaris was only making it worse.

Would we face another burning? If so, would I survive it this time?

Seventeen

Isolde

I woke up in my room, though I’d had every intention of returning to Adrian’s chambers after I’d left the secret library last night, except that he was gone. I was so unnerved by his absence that I left to check my own room, thinking he had gone there, anticipating my behavior, but he had not been there either.

I worried because it was unlike him. He never ran from my anger, though perhaps he was running from his shame, which, I had to admit, was justified. I understood his frustration, even his anger, and normally, I did not mind the way he wished to work through it. I could handle him, I could fuck hard, but the look in his eyes and the way he had held me even after I had said no—that had scared me.

As a result, my sleep was restless. Frustrated, I rose early and dressed before Violeta and Vesna arrived. The two looked tired and were far more quiet than they had been yesterday, the fun they’d had during Winter’s Eve overshadowed by Efram’s resurrection. While I hated to see them so subdued, I was relieved that they seemed just as disturbed by Solaris as I did.

“Tea, my queen?” Vesna asked.

My stomach turned at the thought of consuming the bitter drink.

“Why don’t you each have a cup?” I suggested instead. Nothing tasted quite right to me still.

They thanked me, and since I was already dressed, we sat together while they sipped tea.

“Were you able to continue celebrating Winter’s Eve?” I asked.

“It did not feel so much like a celebration after what happened last night,” said Violeta.

There was a pause, and then Vesna spoke.

“Do you think that man is…actually alive?”

“No,” I said.

I dreaded thinking of what may happen—what may have already happened. I was sure Efram’s wife had realized by now that the resurrected version of her husband was not the same man.

“That man…Solaris,” said Violeta. “He seems…cursed.”

“How so?” I asked.

“It’s as if he traded some part of himself for that hand,” she said. “It is the only piece of him that seems to have any magic, though I hesitate to call it such.”