And yet, her earlier resolve crystallized. I can’t stay here. I can’t just wait and see who the heir murders or imprisons next.

“I’m not feeling well.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Can… you send…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but fell into a swoon. She made sure to sell it, flinging her arms wide when she hit the stonewood.

The Talon cursed, and shoved inside, calling for a mender. All the while, Ren’s mind raced. What would Zofi do?

First, she’d have armed herself before fainting. But Ren didn’t keep weapons in her chambers, and besides, the Talons had confiscated anything sharp, even her bloodletter. She’d been shielding herself with a pen every morning, the sharpest implement she could find.

A female Talon knelt in front of her face. “My lady?”

Ren fluttered her eyelids. “Mama,” she moaned. Then she pretended to faint again. It took effort not to smile at the Talons’ renewed cursing.

“What do we do?” the front-door guard asked. “Orders are to keep the nobles in their rooms, at least until the queen is found.”

The queen?

“She’s a sick girl,” the woman replied. “She just lost her father. She wants her mother. What harm can there be in that?”

A pause. Finally, the front-door guard sighed. “Fine, fetch her mother.”

“Ren.” Mama knelt beside the bed the Talons had lifted her into. “Can you hear me?”

She felt her mother touch her forehead with the back of a hand, but she waited until the other voices—the Talons and a mender who’d pronounced her unharmed but for shock—faded. The moment the lock jangled, Ren’s eyes flew open.

Mama startled. “Honey, are you—”

“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Do you know what’s going on? The Talons mentioned they’re searching for the queen.”

Mama scowled. “That murderess.” She hurriedly explained about the Keep-wide search for the missing queen. “Your sister ordered the Talons to arrest her unharmed, but I’ll bet anything Rozalind killed him.”

“Do you know how Father…?” Ren couldn’t bring herself to finish the question.

“The menders are saying it was a curse. A powerful one—whoever cast it is strong, with a lot of experience in the Vulgar Arts.”

I’ll say. Ren tasted a sour tang at the back of her throat. Who knew the Vulgar Arts better than the heir, after all?

She pressed her lips together. “I need to get out of here.”

A frown creased her mother’s forehead. “The Keep is on lockdown. Talons are scouring every corner for Rozalind. You’ll be safer here, with the guards.”

“You mean here, right where Rozalind wants me to be?” Ren waved at the room. “I’m done playing by her rules, Mama. I need to stop her. Zofi found the shield tithe we’ve been using. Maybe there’s another tithe we can fight back with, something in the library—”