“Well, I’m no scholar,” Amon said, leaning against the wall, seeming reassured that Raisa wouldn’t attack him again. “But there are people in Fellsmarch who know things. The speakers in the temple, for instance. There’s a huge library there.”

“I guess,” Raisa said. “It’s just such an ordeal to even go there. Sometimes I’d like to be invisible.” She twitched irritably. “I don’t even know what’s going on in the world. My mother’s advisers either tell her what she wants to hear, or they’re promoting their own agendas. People say she listens to them too much.”

People being her grandmother Elena, among others.

“Now who’s the cynic?” Amon said. “Maybe you need to find yourself some honest eyes and ears.” He yawned and rubbed his eyes.

“Oh!” Raisa said, stricken. “I’m sorry. You said you have to get up.” Half an hour into reform, she was being as self-centered and inconsiderate as always. She tried to ignore the voice in her head that said, That’s what queens do.

“Come on, let’s go.” Seizing one of the torches, she led the way down the tunnel, trying to ignore the rustlings of rats and the reflected eyes of the creatures that stared down at her from the imperfections in the walls and scattered ahead of her at each turning.

Amon had no trouble keeping up, with his long legs. “How did this passageway get here?” he asked. “And who else knows about it?”

Raisa swiped a cobweb from her face. “I found it after I came back from Demonai,” she said. “It’s really old. I don’t know who made it, and I don’t think anybody knows about it. I haven’t told anyone but you.”

At last they reached the roughly circular stone chamber that meant the end of their journey.

“Here we are,” Raisa said, setting the torch into a bracket by the door. She slid back the panel and pushed aside the wardrobe she’d positioned in front of the entrance.

“Where are we?” Amon asked, mystified.

“You’ll see,” Raisa said, picking her way through a minefield of shoes and boots, pushing aside fluffy dresses on racks.

Her bedroom was chilly and dark, the fire dying in the hearth, her nightgown still laid out on the bed.

Amon emerged from the closet behind her and glanced about. His eyes widened and he looked a little panicked. “Raisa…is this your bedroom?”

“Yes,” Raisa said in an offhand fashion. She crossed to the hearth and poked at the fire, laying on another log.

“Blood of the demon,” Amon swore. “There’s a secret passage in the walls leading to your bedroom? That doesn’t worry you?”

She looked up at him. “No. Why should it?” In truth, it hadn’t. She’d been focused on the convenience of having a means to come and go without passing under the eyes of everyone in the busy palace corridors.

“Somebody made this,” Amon said. “Who else might know about it?”