The twins, it had turned out, were fine forgers, and it was no difficulty for them to draft a letter in Anaïs’s hand, finished off with Roland’s looping signature – the key to our backup plan. The letter requested Báthory’s presence in Triaucourt immediately for a task that Roland felt required her particular skill set. “She won’t be able to resist,” Vincent had said, signing the document with a flourish, his magical pen disappearing the moment he was done. “She’ll be cautious in her journey, of course. She’s delusional, not stupid. But given that we want her to reach Roland, it hardly matters.”

“But she’ll have proof,” I said, pointing at the letter. “They’ll know we’re up to something.”

Vincent shook his head. “The ink’s magic – an illusion. By the time she reaches Roland, it will be nothing more than a blank sheet of paper. She can claim it says all she wants to – they’ll think it’s another one of her delusions. And when they send someone back to the village…” He winked. “Báthory herself will start to question what she’s seen.”

“She’s smiling,” Victoria whispered pulling me back to the moment. I tensed, watching the troll roll our forged letter and tap it thoughtfully against her chin. Then in a smooth motion, she pulled up the bodice of her dress and stowed the document in her cleavage.

“Watch over the prisoners, my lords,” she called to the pair watching from their gazebo. “His Highness is desirous of my presence.”

She took several quick steps toward the path Chris had come from, then stopped, eyeing him for a long moment. “I should make you run ahead of me lest I step on something I might wish I had not.”

Chris rolled his shoulders, twisting the reins in his hands. Anyone, including the Comtesse, could see he was nervous, and I prayed she’d think his reaction was nothing more than wariness of the creature in front of him. “If that is what you wish, my lady. But I have these left to deliver,” he pulled two more letters from his coat pocket, shaking fingers dropping them to the snow. “And His Highness…” He bent down, fumbling twice before he managed to pick them up. “His Highness–”

“Yes, yes.” Báthory smirked. “You are right to be afraid, human. And brighter than most to have allied with the winning side early.”

Not waiting for Chris’s response, she sprinted toward the dense forest, magic carving a path as she made her way down to the coast. The crack and thud of falling trees echoed between the mountains, and we watched her progress until she was out of earshot. “Time to move,” Victoria said.