Akeylah froze. Only then did she recognize the woman, who she’d met just once before. Ren’s mother, Martina, as she’d introduced herself last time. After the baths, while they all waited around for Ren to awaken. “I’m so sorry.” Akeylah inwardly cursed her fatigue. She couldn’t take her pain out on innocent bystanders. “What’s the matter?”

Martina glanced around the corridor, pointed.

Akeylah took the hint and led her inside.

“Ren’s left her chambers,” Martina blurted the moment they were alone. “She felt it wasn’t safe to remain where Rozalind expected her to be.”

Akeylah thought about the Talons patrolling the Keep, already on high alert for the queen. Her heart leaped. “Where did she go?”

Martina explained, in a low whisper, about the University. How Ren hoped to find some new method to fight Rozalind. “I’m just worried, if somebody finds her… She’s already hated by so many people.”

“I’ll meet her.” Akeylah was already reaching for the plainest dress she owned, her previous exhaustion washed away in a flood of adrenaline. She couldn’t save Father, but she could ensure no harm befell Ren. “We’ll find somewhere safe for her to lay low.”

Akeylah understood why Ren wanted to go somewhere Rozalind wouldn’t expect. But Rozalind could be anywhere in the Keep right now. And if the queen was bent on finishing the job she’d started when she nearly drowned Ren in the baths…

“Thank you.” Martina gripped Akeylah’s hands once, tight. “Be careful, please.”

Akeylah’s hopes climbed, just a little, at the thought of seeing her sister. Perhaps Ren would find something helpful in the University. At the very least, together, they could decide what to do. How to stop Rozalind before she clawed and cursed her way onto the throne.

Akeylah had seen how easy it was to turn the Talons’ suspicions to Rozalind. Surely the queen, who lied so well she’d convinced Akeylah she loved her, could turn things back in her favor. All it would take were a few carefully placed suggestions. Check Lady Akeylah’s leg; you’ll find the scar where she cursed her father. You already know what Lady Florencia has done, how she betrayed this whole kingdom.…

Once Martina left, Akeylah finished donning a dull dress designed to deflect attention. She turned to go, then froze where she stood.

I didn’t shield today, she realized in panic.

Her father’s blackened, bloodstained body smiled at her from the doorway.

“Go away,” she whispered.

“Akeylah.” Her father—no, not him, the heir again, Rozalind—tsked and shook his head. “Is that any way to greet your dear departed daddy?”

She forced herself to hold the hallucination’s bloodshot gaze. “I know what you did to him, Rozalind.”