I didn’t remember lying down.
One minute I was pacing, trying to smother the panic eating at me, and the next, my body had simply given out, pulling me into restless, shallow sleep once again. My dreams were a blur—Malrik’s face twisted with anger, Elira’s small hand tugging at mine, evil eyes burning from the dark.
The sound that woke me wasn’t a voice.
It was a sharp, startled yelp.
I jerked upright, heart hammering, and for a moment I forgot where I was. The wooden beams overhead, the velvet curtains, the mountain view—it all came back in a rush.
Then my eyes dropped to the door.
And I saw her.
A woman—no, a servant, by the plain apron and the tray she had just dropped on the floor—stood just inside the room. Or rather, hopped around on one leg, clutching her ankle with both h
