Ransom went in first, his big body narrowly squeezing past Zephyr into the building beyond. Sly went next, and when Aurora hesitated, Kiran jerked his head for her to go in ahead of him. She did, but she hovered near to the door, waiting for him to pass through with her mother. By the time he did, Ransom had already cleared a nearby table of the chairs stacked on top, and Kiran swept forward, laying out her mother atop it with care.

Aurora rushed over, hearing the slam of the door and the turn of multiple locks behind her.

“What did you do?” Zephyr growled, pushing through the group until she stood facing Aurora across the table. “I already know you went against my orders.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” Aurora shot back.

“You do if you want to be part of this rebellion. There are lives at stake. Any miscommunication, any alteration in the plan could ruin us all.”

Aurora did not answer. She couldn’t. Because as much as she hated to admit it, Zephyr was right. Jinx had walked into that palace with her today because she trusted her, because they were friends, and now she had lost her freedom, and possibly her life because Aurora had failed. Aurora could only hope that her note would save her. That the risk of revealing herself would pay off. If only she had not kept her plan a secret, if she had enlisted more help, if they had done reconnaissance rather than rushing in without more details … Aurora was no general in an army, nor was she a leader of a rebellion. She was a princess—a naive and defective one at that. How had she ever thought she could make a difference? Could do any of this?

“Well…” Zephyr finally said, crossing her arms. “Is anyone going to tell me what you have here? Or did the princess simply miss her fancy linens and decided to take them with her?”

Aurora gritted her teeth, and refused to rise to that bait. Instead, she leaned over the table and began folding back the sheets. Her mother’s hair came into view first—not quite as skyfire white as her own, more a starburst of pale blond and gray that shimmered in the low lantern light. It covered her face, and Aurora carefully pushed back the strands, tucking them behind her mother’s ears until her face was revealed.

The room went deadly silent—not unlike the eerie quiet of a storm’s eye. Then things erupted in a cacophony of noise. An awed curse dropped from Bait’s mouth, at the same time that another curse, far less awed and more gruff, came from Ransom.