Aurora blinked, but did as she was told, swaddling her unconscious mother like a child. In minutes they were ready to try their escape. Aurora would lower Sly down first, then send her mother down next. Together, they carried her mother to the balcony door. As soon as they stepped outside, the smell of ash and rain filled Aurora’s senses. She looked up and saw pillars of smoke rising from the city beyond, and all at once that numbness went away, reality coming back in a sharp slice.

“Wait,” Aurora gasped. “Wait. I have to do something.”

She did not let herself think or worry or fear as she charged back through her mother’s room and to the door. She listened only for a moment before she returned to the hallway, Sly’s quiet objections lost as she closed the door behind her.

The hallway was still empty, which was good. She strode forward until she reached the door that had once been hers, then pushed it open and ducked inside before she could change her mind.

She blinked, taking in the mix of old and new before her. Her books remained, as well as the small love seat where she used to curl up and read, where she had sat beside Cassius as he discussed their impending marriage and decided that she would do whatever it took to make her own future. But other things were different. A large black desk lay in front of her bookshelves, covered in papers and ink and books—some of which she recognized and others she didn’t. There was a burned and bloodied coat slung over a wooden chair—neither of which were hers. There was a rack of weapons in one corner, with two discarded pairs of boots nearby.

Aurora shook her head in disbelief. It was not enough that he had taken her kingdom and drugged her mother, Cassius Locke had moved into her rooms? She had a sudden urge to destroy it all—his, hers, it did not matter anymore—but there was no time for that. Instead, she made for that monstrosity of a desk and grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill. And she did the only thing she could think of to possibly save her friends.

Aurora wrote Cassius Locke a note.

She scrawled the words quickly, but with a firm line of ink. When finished, she stared down at the words, hoping she was not making another mistake, but knowing she had to do something. She took one last look around her old sitting room and slipped away, returning to her mother’s room.

“Finally!” Sly cried. “Hurry up.”

Aurora’s brow furrowed in confusion as she emerged onto the balcony to find the linens with her mother inside them already gone.

“Go, up and over,” Sly urged.