The hallway was dark.
Sophie crept past sleeping wards, bare feet silent on the stone floor. The young guard led her through the servants' wing, whispering directions.
“This way. The chute leads to the wash house. From there, it's a straight shot to the southern stables."
She clutched the birch box tight to her chest.
“Once I reach Dawnveil, I'll request arbitration," she said. “They won't dare ignore a Luna's plea."
“You just have to make it across the border."
The laundry chute creaked as they slid it open. Cold air rushed in.
Sophie climbed in.
Then—steel clanged behind them.
“Stop!"
A dozen interceptors surged in, weapons drawn. The young guard stepped forward. “She's innocent!"
But Dylan's voice rang out, lethal and low. “She's a traitor."
Sophie emerged from the chute, ba
