I thought of the times I’d ignored her. Despite her cruelty and control, she had wisdom. I didn’t heed her when I used a raw wish. Perhaps I should learn my lesson. But her warnings were from a heart of self-preservation and desire to keep me under her thumb.

I needed to free myself from her voice.

So I prayed for my own wisdom. For my own wit. To whatever power created Talents and decided that I, of all people, should be this century’s Wishtress . . . I asked it for grace. Almost angrily. It owed me that.

I skated onward.

Chapter 13
Myrthe

A militair dragged me into the schloss.

I didn’t know if this was by Anouk’s order or because he recognized me. I’d pulled my scarf over my chin and mouth, tucked my hair up into a hat, and smeared a little charcoal over half my face after writing Anouk a note on a leaf of blank paper from the Wishtress journal.

I didn’t think the militair would deliver it to her.

I didn’t think he’d come back.

I did expect to be dragged into the schloss at some point.

The wool-white entrance stretched mere feet before us—a wide sweep of stairs flowing out of an entryway the size of my childhood cottage, like the train of a royal gown. Sky-blue roofing capped the white walls, like winter painted on a building.

The militair took me toward a small entrance off the corner. He didn’t have his sword out. That was something. And he was alone. I tried to match his stride, but my limp wouldn’t allow it. I stumbled and he slowed. “Are you injured?”

I didn’t see myself that way, but neither was I as healthy or capable as the average citizen. Unless I was on skates. “Yes. From having the pox as a child.”

He slowed even more. Courtesy of this sort implied I was, perhaps, a guest and not a prisoner. “We’re not far.”

With a deep breath and fists ready to beat back any unwelcome emotions, I entered the schloss for the first time to see my cousin. My best friend. My queen.

Queen.

I could think of no one better to be queen of Winterune, but I could also think of no one less inclined. What had happened to Anouk to make her marry the Murder Prince? And how did that change our relationship?

I wasn’t so naïve to think our friendship would be the same as it was the last time we’d seen each other at markt. Yet I was hopeful. I wanted to tell her everything. About Oma, about Mutti being alive, about the Wishtress journal, about Coralythe and the curse.