Chapter 2

Six months later, everything changed.

Word came from across the border that Princess Bianca had been struck by a rare curse and was close to death.

That was enough to send Julius spiraling. He summoned physicians from across the kingdom and ordered them to develop a cure, but the medicine was dangerously potent.

One wrong dose could kill a person, so he needed someone to test it on.

In the end, he chose me.

Two palace servants held me down while Julius himself gripped my chin and forced a bowl of black, poisonous liquid down my throat.

It felt as though my insides were being burned alive. I writhed on the floor, clawing desperately at the stone until my fingernails tore and blood smeared across the tiles.

Tears streamed down my face as I begged him to save me, but he simply stood there, wiping his hands with a spotless white handkerchief.

"Being chosen to test the medicine for Bianca is a privilege," he said, looking at me without a trace of emotion.

"To hell with this kind of privilege," I thought. "If it was such an honor, why didn't he try it himself?"

The first trial left me bedridden for half a month.

And from that day on, whatever hope I had in Julius died completely. I no longer wanted his protection, and money was the only thing I needed.

We came to an agreement. Every time I tested a medicine, I was paid three times my monthly wages. If it turned out to be poisonous, I was paid ten times as much.

Over the next five years, I had coughed up enough blood to stain every fountain at Rosecourt red.

But at the same time, the stack of gold coins hidden in my sleeves had grown thicker, too.

With the poison finally cleared from Julius' system and enough money saved, we were even.

"I'll be leaving the palace tomorrow to attend a royal ceremony."

Julius' voice snapped me back to the present.

"You'll stay at Rosecourt and clean out the medicine room."

"Yes, Your Highness," I said evenly, my head hung low.

There was no way I was going to spend tomorrow cleaning the medicine room.

First thing in the morning, I'd be leaving this miserable place for good, armed with the royal pardon that officially set me free.

And I'd never look back.

My work at Rosecourt wasn't my only source of income because I took on little side jobs whenever I could. The money I made testing medicines was good, but it wasn't something I could count on every day.

My goal was simple—make as much money as possible, leave the palace, and buy myself a beautiful house.

So I turned my attention to the Forsaken Wing, where the ninth prince, Lucian Belgrave, lived. Someone had once tried to assassinate him, leaving him blind and permanently disgraced.

Lucian had plenty of enemies.

One night, an elderly palace servant who worked for one of the king's favored consorts slipped me a small pouch of silver coins. He wanted me to take spoiled food to the Forsaken Wing after dark and keep an eye on Lucian to make sure he was still alive.

I took the money and did exactly what I'd been paid to do.

It was winter when I first went to the Forsaken Wing, but there wasn't even a single fire burning in the room.

Lucian was dressed in little more than a thin shirt, huddled in a corner. His skin was turning blue from the cold. He reminded me of a cornered animal, all sharp edges and suspicion.

The moment he heard my footsteps, he snatched up a shard of broken glass and began swinging it wildly.

"Get out!" he roared, his voice rough with barely contained fury.

I ignored him and set the spoiled food on the floor.

Just as I was about to turn to leave, he suddenly started shaking violently.

His entire body curled in on itself, and his fingers were too numb to keep hold of the glass shard. He was freezing to death.

And if he died, so would my steady little side income from keeping tabs on him.

I sighed.

I walked over, pried the shard from his hand, and tossed it aside. Then I pulled out a small piece of burning coal I'd secretly taken from Rosecourt and set it down.

A flame flickered to life.

For the first time, warmth filled the room.

Lucian seemed to feel the change in the temperature. He stopped struggling and began inching toward the heat, until he finally buried his face against the hollow of my neck. He wrapped both arms tightly around my waist, trying to steal every bit of warmth he could from me.

I didn't push him away.

It wasn't as if I had anything better to do, so I figured that I might as well let him use me as a human heating pad.

Night after night, I kept returning to the Forsaken Wing.

I chased off the palace servants who took advantage of Lucian's helplessness and bullied him when no one was watching. I started hiding fresh meals underneath the spoiled food I was supposed to deliver.

During the coldest months, I even used my own body heat to warm his freezing hands and feet.

Lucian couldn't see, but he learned my scent. Every time I stood up to leave, he'd grab the edge of my clothes and refuse to let go, as though I were the only thing keeping him alive.

"Don't go," he rasped, fear flickering across his face. "Stay with me."