(Daciana POV)
The fresh black feather lay beneath the servants’ floor like a living threat, and every wolf in the lower house stopped breathing.
It was not old, not buried with Rudina’s crown, and not touched by the dust of eighteen hidden years.
It had been placed there recently.
By someone who knew I would come.
By someone who had reached my Northridge room, stolen clothes from my blanket, and followed my path back into Blackfang.
The last Blood Feather spy was not waiting in some distant tower or hiding behind a noble banner.
The spy was close.
Close enough to touch my bed.
Close enough to know my steps.
Close enough to watch me bleed over my mother’s crown.
Rieka backed away from the opened floor, her face pale with horror that looked real enough to wound my suspicion.
“I d
