Darius POV
The letter wasn't addressed to me. That's how I knew something was wrong.
I'd been walking past the servants' entrance when I saw the delivery boy. A young kid, maybe fifteen. Scrawny, with dirt on his face and worn boots. He was looking around like he was lost, eyes darting from door to door.
"Can I help you?" I asked, my boots crunching on gravel.
He jumped, nearly dropping the envelope in his hand. "I'm looking for someone named Marion."
"Marion?" I didn't recognize the name. "Who's Marion?"
"I don't know." He held up a sealed envelope, the paper yellowed and thick. "I'm just supposed to deliver this. They paid me at the market, said Marion works in the kitchens."
My instincts screamed, hair rising on the back of my neck. "Let me see that."
"I can't." He pulled it bac
