Caelan bristles before sending a curt nod my way. A formal dismissal. And then he turns away from the carriage with Vallis close beside him, and I find myself dipping my body in another curtsy. When I lift my eyes, he’s vanished.

I scan the market for Shura, hoping she’s still nearby. Maybe she can help me understand what in the Four Courts just happened.

But I can’t find her, and probably for good reason. Every moment she wasted waiting on me to finish talking to the prince—waiting to see if I’d be taken in chains or made to suffer in the streets—was a moment she’d be putting herself in danger too.

Leaving me here alone was her best chance of survival, even if it stings.

I make my way up the curved path, moving closer to the wall with each step. Shura said to meet her near the docks if anything went wrong, so that’s where I need to go.

A Resident with jeweled flowers in her hair compliments my dress. I nod graciously and keep moving, unsure of what role to play now. Unsure whether it even matters.

Maybe the prince knows the truth and I was just too naive to see it.

Maybe they’ll be coming for me soon.

I step through the open gate, expecting Residents to descend from above and drag me off to War, but nothing happens. No one follows me.

Not wanting to test my luck, I take a quickened path through the grass. The clattering sounds of the market fade with the distance, exchanged for the lulling sway of the sea. I keep to the narrow stone path, tracing my steps in reverse down the mossy hillside. Eventually I reach the fishing dock, certain Shura can’t be too far up ahead. But when I cast my eyes down the pier, I frown.

My eyes scan the water and shadows and everything in between for movement, but I don’t see her anywhere.

“What are you?” Her voice sounds behind me.

“Shura?” I turn, only to find an empty space. “I—I can’t see you.”

“What are you?” she repeats beneath her veil, closer this time. She sounds afraid.

“You know what I am,” I say in a quick voice. “You know I’m human.”

Her invisible arm closes around mine, and I feel myself being pulled along the dock, closer to the water’s edge. We stop inches from the edge of the pier, so close I can feel the mist rolling off the sea.

“Let go of me,” I hiss, but she doesn’t. If anything, her grip tightens.

“I tried to veil you. I tried to protect you from being seen, when you couldn’t stop staring at the carriage. But you broke free.”