“How can you be here, Nomi?” Angeline asked. “Maris said you were dead.”

Nomi’s hope that Cassia had somehow been mistaken crumbled. A new urgency swept through her. If Maris was here, where was Serina? She stood up. “Do you know what room she’s in? I need to see her.”

“Stay here. I’ll go get her.” Angeline stood up, drew a worn robe around her nightdress, and snuck from the room.

When the door clicked shut, the sheets on the bed rustled again. “Angeline?” came a quiet voice. “Is it time to get up?”

With a sigh, Cassia switched on the light. “Ria, flower, Angeline stepped out for a moment. But all is well.”

The small figure who sat up slowly in the bed wasn’t a young woman. She was a child, even younger than Talia. Ria’s pale blue eyes were swollen and rimmed in red, as if she’d fallen asleep crying. “Who are you?” she asked Nomi, her expression caught between fear and surprise.

“I’m Nomi. You’re a Grace?”

The little girl nodded.

Nomi’s horror turned to bile at the back of her throat. Suddenly, her mind conjured Asa’s hands around her own waist, his lips pressed to hers, and the memory was a cage she couldn’t escape.

She’d welcomed his embrace, and she’d been stupid enough to think her willingness mattered to him. But he was just as his father had been, eager to impose his will on others.

Eager to tame the unwilling ones.

The door opened again, and Maris appeared, Angeline behind her. As soon as Maris saw Nomi, her face crumpled.

Nomi hugged her, panic wrapping sharp claws around her throat. “How are you here?”

Anguish flashed across Maris’s face. “We were captured. All of us from Mount Ruin. They’re all stuck in a cell in some sort of dungeon. Asa noticed me and brought me here. Said this is where I belong.” Her mouth twisted. “He saw me with Helena.… I think he did it because of that. He wants to torture me.”

Nomi wondered how many shards of her heart were left to shatter. “Serina, is she… Maris—”

“She’s alive. I don’t think he recognized her. But it doesn’t matter.” Maris dropped her gaze to her dirty boots. “He is going to execute them all.”

The words echoed in Nomi’s mind.

Rage filled her veins, burned through her chest, set her pulse to pounding in her temples. She grabbed her cloak and started for the door. “No, he isn’t.”

“Nomi, what are you—” Maris started.

Someone knocked on the door. Nomi froze, her hand on the knob.

“Hurry,” Angeline hissed. She doused the light and pushed Nomi, Maris, and Cassia into the washroom. They hid, holding their breath, listening to the muffled voices in the bedroom. Only a few seconds passed before Angeline opened the washroom door.