“I know you’re here, you cursed creature.”

I leapt at the muttered words, spinning in a circle as I tried to figure out where they were coming from.

“I can smell you. And if you think you can dine on my books, you are sorely mistaken. Ah hah!” A troll leapt out from behind a stack, sluag spear in hand.

I stumbled backward, holding up my hands. “Martin, stop!”

The spear froze in midair, only a few inches from my face.

“Who are you?” Light blossomed, and I heard his sharp intake of breath. “Princess? What are you doing here? And why do you smell like–”

“I sneaked in through the sewer.”

His jaw dropped. “And you’ve been touching the books?”

“I cleaned my hands,” I said. “Martin, you mustn’t tell anyone I’m here. If the King were to capture me, it would be disastrous.” Even as the words poured out, I realized that I’d no idea where the librarian’s loyalties lay, or if he even looked up from his books enough to care.

“And you’ve come here with an interest in estates?” His voice was hard. “Looking to settle down already?”

I shook my head. “We’re trying to find Angoulême. We know he’s…” I trailed off, the expression on his face making me step back. Timid and bookish he might be, but Martin was still a troll. It was well within his power to harm me. And in his mind, I might deserve it, given what had happened to the girl he loved.

“I’m so sorry about Élise,” I whispered. “She was my friend, and she died saving my life.”

Silence.

“Do you know what he did to her?” Each word was torn from his throat. “He locked her in a box, then paraded it though the city so we could all hear her screams. Until we couldn’t any more.” His hand went to a shelf for balance, knocking several volumes to the floor. “I tried to help her, but I wasn’t strong enough. Duchesse Sylvie and the Queen did nothing. The King did nothing.”

Tears ran down my cheeks. “I can’t bring her back, but I can offer you a chance for revenge against the Duke, because as soon as we find him, we’re going to kill him.”

He stared at his feet for long enough that I wondered if he were waiting for me to leave. Wondered if maybe my promises seemed empty, because they were powerless to undo the hurt he’d endured. When he finally moved, I flinched, but he only reached inside his robes to pull out a slender vial hanging from a silver chain. The contents glowed a faint blue, and I immediately knew what it was: Élixir de la Lune.

“Tristan promised her that once he was king that he’d allow anyone to be bonded, not just full-bloods,” Martin said. “But I didn’t want to take the chance that he’d…”

I wondered what had been his concern. That Tristan would find a way around his promise or that he wouldn’t become king?