But I can’t move. I can’t do anything. I’m frozen in front of Prince Caelan’s chariot, my eyes pinned to his like we’re exchanging words I’ve forgotten how to say.

I don’t know the rules here, or the protocol. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was never meant to leave Shura’s veil.

And I guess some part of my survival mode kicks in, because without even realizing it, my body falls into a curtsy.

He’s a prince, after all. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?

I hear his voice again, like the trill of a flute on the darkest night of winter. He’s dangerous—of course he is—but he’s beautiful, too. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he says, eyes flickering like the sun bursting against glass. “I know my brother is favored deeply, even within my own court.”

I try not to frown, or flinch, or do anything other than appear normal. But he reads the confusion behind my eyes despite my effort to be as robotic as humanly possible.

“You wear my brother’s colors,” he remarks with a raised brow, and I get the feeling he’s repeating himself.

I cast my eyes down too quickly, and the crimson fabric flowing from my body makes my heart tumble again and again. I’m wearing a dress I’ve never seen before. A dress I know without a doubt I never put on. The combination of lace and beads dance up my arms, revealing areas of flesh beneath it, and the hem pools at my feet like I’m swimming in a sea of red.

I don’t know what trick this is, or what it’s supposed to represent, but all I can think is how much this dress reminds me of blood.

The prince leans forward like he’s trying to bring my attention back to him, and I don’t know if he’s controlling me or if I’m just too inquisitive for my own good, but I oblige him.

“It wasn’t my intention to wear your brother’s colors,” I say slowly, my nerves multiplying by the second.

His face remains unchanged. “You didn’t intend to wear red today?”

I press my hands against the fabric, hoping he won’t notice how hard I’m trying to fight the twitching in my fingers.

Doesn’t he know what I am?

Doesn’t he know that I’m human?

If this is some kind of game, all I can do is play along and hope for an opportunity to flee.

“What I mean is, I like red. Not because it represents your brother’s court, but because I think it’s a pretty color.” It’s not exactly the truth, since I’m leaving out the part where Naoko always wore red. But maybe it’s enough to pacify his interest.