تسجيل الدخولKillian POV"No one entered the grove," said Marcus."Someone did.""Not through the gates. Not through the walls. I had six men on the outer path from midnight until dawn." He rubbed the back of his neck, frowning at the little black crescent on the birch bark. "Your Majesty, I am telling you, a rabbit could not have slipped past them.""Then it was not a rabbit."We were standing in the moon grove, an hour after sunrise. Isabella had gone back to the palace with Valerie, who had insisted on feeding her toast and tea until she stopped shaking. I had stayed behind with Marcus and a very quiet carpenter, who was carefully cutting the whole piece of bark out of the tree."Burn it," I said."Not yet." The carpenter held up one hand. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, but the sap is still wet. If we burn it now, whoever made it will know we found it.""How would they know?""Moon craft leaves a thread. A good caster feels it snap." He looked nervous. "I only know because my grandmother used to te
Isabella POVNobody said a word for a long time after Winifred Aldous finished speaking.The fire popped. A jar rattled softly on the shelf. Killian sat with his elbows on his knees and his eyes on the floor. Valerie was hugging her own arms, staring at the old woman like she wanted to ask a hundred questions and could not choose one.Marcus was the first to move. He cleared his throat and said, "Your Majesty, I will go and double the guards on the dining hall.""Do it quietly," said Killian, without looking up."Yes, Your Majesty.""And Marcus.""Yes?""Watch everyone. Even the people you trust." Killian's voice was low and tired. "Especially them."Marcus nodded once and slipped out the door. Valerie stood up, wiped her face with the back of her hand and said, "I need air.""I will walk you," said Killian."You do not have to.""I know." He got up slowly. He glanced down at me, and his golden eyes were red around the edges. "I will be right outside, little bird.""Go," I said gently
Isabella POV"We cannot use the letter anymore," I said."I know," said Killian."They heard everything.""I know that too."We were standing in the east corridor with the apple blossom still in my hand. Valerie hovered beside us, pale and shaky. Marcus had already sent three men running to the kitchens to check the bread basket. They came back ten minutes later with an empty basket and no letter.Somebody had taken it. Somebody had read it. And now somebody was laughing at us."So the whole plan is dead," Valerie said in a small voice."The plan is changed," I said. "That is different.""Is it?""It has to be." I turned the blossom over in my fingers. It was still fresh. It still smelled sweet. "Someone is playing with us. Not hurting us yet. Playing. And I think that means they are not as sure as they want us to believe."Killian gave me a long look. "Explain.""If they were certain we would walk into the trap, they would not send warnings. They would just wait." I held up the bloss
Killian POVThe war room was so quiet you could hear the oil burning in the wall lamps.I didn't speak. I couldn't. I just stared at the single apple blossom sitting on the table, its delicate white petals looking impossibly clean against the dark, stained wood. Tied to its stem was that black thread, and beside it, the scrap of paper with those six words written on it.Not the door.Tell her we heard everything.Isabella didn't move either. Her hand was still resting on my forearm, but her fingers had gone rigid. Beside us, Valerie looked back and forth between the flower and my face, her breath coming in fast, shallow gasps."Killian..." Valerie whispered, her voice cracking. "What does it mean? Who wrote it?""The first line is Darius," I said. My voice was a dead, flat thing. "The second line is the gray man.""They know," Isabella said, her voice eerily calm—the scary kind of calm she got when the world was catching fire around her. "They know about the letter. They know we tried
Killian POV"No.""Killian...""No. Absolutely not. Not in a hundred years."I was standing in the middle of the war room with the chalk map spread across the table. Isabella had copied it onto parchment that morning, line for line, and brought it straight to me. Marcus stood behind her, grim as a rock. The door was locked. The windows were shut. I had checked them twice.My finger was pressed on the little sketch of a dark-haired woman in a garden."This is you," I said. My voice sounded strange in my own ears. "He drew you. He drew my wife, and he wrote the word key next to her like she is a door he wants to open.""I know.""You are not going near that apple tree.""I know that too.""Then why are you looking at me like that?""Like what?""Like you already have a plan."Isabella folded her arms. She had that small, stubborn tilt to her chin that made my stomach drop. "Because I do."Marcus coughed. "Your Majesty, perhaps I should wait outside.""Stay," I said."Stay," said Isabell
Isabella POVI did not sleep.Killian did, in the end. He fell asleep sitting up against the headboard, one hand still wrapped around mine, like he was afraid I would disappear. I let him. He needed it more than I did.I sat there in the dark and stared at the little pile of ash on the carpet.Something was bothering me. It had been bothering me since the paper caught fire, and it kept tugging at my brain like a loose thread.The note said, "The gray one is listening. He is always listening."But Killian had read the note out loud. And it was only after he read it that the crescent mark glowed purple.I sat up straighter.The mark did not glow when the note was put on the pillow. It did not glow when Killian opened it. It only lit up when he spoke the words."It was not the room," I whispered. "It was the paper."The gray man was not hiding in our walls. He did not need to. He had put a piece of himself inside the note, and it listened to everything said near it. It heard every word o







