“Pity. That’s part of the reason I came all this way.” He turns around, so close I can hear the weight of his heels. “Any human found to be aware must be sent to War, as I’m sure you know. If my brother were to break such an agreement by harboring them in the Winter Keep…”

“Trade agreements are sanctioned by Queen Ophelia. Prince Caelan would never go against Her Majesty.”

“A quality that’s at least somewhat useful.” There’s a brief silence. “My brother will make a mistake eventually. And when he does, I want to know about it.”

“You will know every whisper and echo of this palace, Your Highness.”

“Your loyalty will be remembered, Commander Kyas.” Prince Ettore turns away from the balcony. “There’s a war coming, and anyone who can’t see it is on the wrong side.”

Commander.

The realization cracks like thunder. Prince Caelan is being betrayed by his own guards.

Does he have any idea? And what war is Ettore talking about? A war between humans and Residents or a war between brothers? Between courts?

I hear the footsteps shuffle farther into the room, so I bury my questions and take my chance at escape. I swing my legs over the balcony and grab hold of the protruding stones along the wall. My shoes dig into whatever crevasses they can find, and I’m grateful my dress is light enough not to weigh me down as I scale the side of the castle.

When I reach the library window, it takes a bit of prying to get it open, but eventually the frame gives way and I slip inside. My feet find soft carpet, and I bend my knees, catlike.

The library is stocked from floor to ceiling with mismatched books, the scent of worn leather and dust filling the room. A long white sofa curves around an unlit fireplace, and a tapestry of the Four Courts hangs from the wall. A hedge maze for Victory, flames for War, an ocean for Famine, and a single flower rooted into the earth for Death.

I quietly pull the window shut and make my way toward the door. Halfway there, one of the shelves catches my eye. Black Beauty The Wonderful Wizard of Oz Pride and Prejudice Dracula. I know these titles. I’ve read them, some more than once.

The books at the Colony are blank because nobody can remember enough of the words to re-create them. But here, with the Residents…

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I pull one of the books from the shelf and split the pages with my thumb. My heart settles when I find hundreds of words dancing across the paper like a forgotten memory. Residents may not be able to dream and make new things like humans can, but they can remember what’s old. They can mimic.