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“The marks around her wrists indicate captivity. Yet the scarring here suggests self-administration.” A light press on my nape left a wet slick of salve. A moment later, numbness tingled across my skin.

“How unusual,” Arun said. “Perhaps the foolish girl managed to extract some sympathy from her captors after all.”

The clinical voice sharpened. “If you’re going to be unkind to my patient, you can leave.”

Arun laughed under his breath. “You grow soft, old friend. Work quickly, please. Rheya wants an audience with her before morning.”

A door clicked shut. The man near my head hummed a familiar tune, and the melody guided me into slumber.

5

Hazy light threaded between my lashes. I tried to keep my eyes shut, too afraid to wake all the way and return to my painful, throbbing existence.

But three breaths passed . . . and the throbbing never came.

A gasp heaved me upright, and my awareness returned, full and sharp.

I was in a modestly decorated bedchamber, the night-dark window reflecting the glowing interior. Only three aspects of the room seemed overly ornate. The first was the domed ceiling, embossed with golden filigree. The second was a bronze medical trolley.

And the third was the gold-plated armor of the guard standing at the opposite wall.

My heart slammed as the memories rushed back to me. I’d tried to follow Arun, hoping he would lead me to Keil. I’d been knocked off my horse and had hidden the compass under a water station. Then Arun’s face had hovered above, quietly victorious.

Lady Alissa, he’d called me. I couldn’t have imagined it. Because Arun hadn’t been in that carriage after all; he’d been expecting me to follow it. He must’ve realized who I was and had just needed the confirmation. But how had he known?

“You have ten minutes to eat.” The guard nodded to the table on her right, where a cheese board overflowed beside a pitcher of iced tea. “Then I must escort you out.”

“Out where?” I asked, hating the breathiness of my voice.

“The bathing chamber is through the door to your left,” she said in place of an answer.

My gaze darted instead to the door behind her.

“I must use a suppressant if you resist,” she said, sounding apologetic.

Suppressant. That was the word Zeke used to describe dullroot. I shuddered as I looked toward the long, black-striped dispenser sheathed at the guard’s belt.

Though my fever had eased, my specter still felt too fluid with exhaustion. I was at a disadvantage.

And she would dose me if I tried to prove otherwise.

So I walked shakily toward the bathing chamber and shut the door. My mind raced to assess the situation.

Arun had said that Keil would continue to suffer until I was found. Now that they had me in their grasp, I had to believe they would let Keil go. Just as I had to believe that I’d been right to conceal the compass at the compound.

Because getting away had to be my first priority.

I’d played too many vicious court games to underestimate the power of leverage. If nothing else, Erik’s missing bride would be the perfect bargaining chip to smooth over any fraught relations with Daradon. They could be preparing to ship me back to him right now.

Horror chilled me as I imagined returning to Erik’s dungeons. As I considered the rest of my life being shaped by the same hand that had wrapped around my throat.

So I would remain docile, keeping the Ansorans from administering the dullroot; as long as I had my power, I could escape. I just needed one opportunity. One minute of distraction.

And then, somehow, I would run.

“Seven minutes,” the guard called.

The clinician I’d heard talking to Arun must have used a powerful numbing agent, because I could barely feel my own touch as I shimmied up my sleeve.