The Rose Society

That’s what the Daggers are here for. The realization finally makes my invisibility break down, and for a second, I’m exposed.

Instantly I fix it, melting myself back into the scene around me. Gemma’s eyes dart in my direction—she looks confused for a moment, but then she seems to shrug it off and return to the conversation. I swallow hard and try to ignore the thundering of my heart.

The bald boy narrows his eyes. “But—I have seen the queen’s brother. He is not of the living. Will the same not happen to Prince Enzo?”

Gemma sighs heavily at that. “We don’t know. Perhaps. Perhaps not, as he is an Elite. The queen has never brought back anyone else, aside from her brother. But he will walk the world again, with Raffaele at his side.”

Lucent addresses the bald boy. “Leo,” she says. “We need to get Enzo out of the city once he returns. None of us have any idea how he will be—not even Maeve. He may not have his powers at all, or he may be exactly as he used to be. Regardless, he will cause a scene. Maeve said that her brother’s revival caused a whirlpool in the lake where he’d”—she pauses for a moment, and I detect a hint of guilt in her voice—“where he’d originally drowned. Then he was bedridden for a week. Do you think you know your power well enough to distract the Inquisitors at one of the gates?”

The boy named Leo sounds nervous, but he still lifts his chin. “I think so,” he replies. “My poison is temporary, but it will last long enough to weaken them.”

“Maeve will be weak as well,” Gemma adds, turning her attention to the others standing beside Leo. “You need to get her to safety as quickly as possible.”

One of them steps forward. He lifts a hand, and a tiny flash of blinding light sparks in his palm. Another Elite. “We are the queen’s personal Elites,” he says, as if insulted. “We know how to protect her. Just handle your prince.”

“And her navy?” Lucent asks.

“They will arrive soon. Mark my words—it will be a massive siege.”

They exchange a few handshakes and some more words, but I stop listening in order to take in what I’ve already heard.

Raffaele is working with the Beldish queen to bring Enzo back. Meanwhile, Beldain’s navy is coming. In fact, Beldish soldiers—Elites—are already here, perhaps all hiding in plain sight. Pieces are all moving into place to force Giulietta from her throne.

Enzo. Enzo. I place a hand on the tavern wall and guide myself around the corner. I find a dark spot in the next alley. There, I finally shed my invisibility and lower myself into a crouch, then rest my head in my hands. Threads of energy inside me start to rise out of control. The scene changes from a hilly street in Campagnia to a dark hallway back at the Fortunata Court. I’m crouched in one corner, hiding, listening to Dante talk to Enzo. I hear how little the Daggers trust me—how even Enzo hesitates when Dante talks about my disloyalty. The scene vanishes, replaced by a bed and Raffaele sitting beside it, holding my hand and telling me I am no longer one of them.

Adelina.

I look up to see a vision of Enzo standing there. His face is as beautiful as I remember, his eyes scarlet and piercing, his dark red hair tied back in an unruly tail. He leans down, and his ghostly fingers brush my cheek. I want to reach up to him, but I know he’s too far away.

I should be happy to hear all this. This is what I want too—to see Giulietta overthrown and malfettos safe under the rightful ruler of Kenettra. Why am I unhappy? I want Enzo back, don’t I? And yet, the memory returns to me of the child sitting along the stairs, fantasizing about the crown of jewels on her head.

I know exactly why I am unhappy. The Daggers have given themselves to another country. They have put Enzo—and Kenettra’s throne—in the hands of a foreign nation. The thought makes my stomach lurch violently.

This is wrong. Enzo wouldn’t have wanted this, handing Kenettra over to Beldain. How can the Daggers agree to be Maeve’s lackeys? Beldain treats their malfettos well, certainly—but they are not our allies. They have always been Kenettra’s rival.

They shouldn’t be on your throne, the whispers in my head snap, suddenly awakened. They stir in a restless whirlwind, irritated. That is why you are angry. The Daggers don’t deserve to rule, not after what they did to you. Don’t let them have something that is yours. Don’t let them take that revenge from you.

“My revenge is against the Inquisition Axis,” I whisper, my voice so quiet that even I can’t hear it.

It should be against the Daggers, too, for throwing you into the wild. For putting their own prince in Beldain’s hands.

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