I scramble backward until my boots strike the cold stone hearth. My hand flies to the side table, fingers locking around a heavy brass candleholder. I lift it, knuckles white, staring at the dark gap beneath the mattress."Who is there?" I whisper. "Come out. Slowly."Bloody fingers twitch against the floorboards, leaving streaks of crimson. A ragged, wet gasp echoes from the shadows, followed by a violent cough. Mira slides into the dim light. Her silk presentation gown is ribbons, and her left shoulder is soaked in dark, spreading blood."Aylin," she wheezes, lips stained red. "Please... don't call the guards."I drop the candleholder and sprint to her. On my knees, I pull her dead weight from beneath the frame. She groans, eyes rolling back."How did you get here?" I ask, my hands flying to her torn shoulder. The wound is jagged, three parallel lines ripped by something massive. "The Matron locked the doors. The bolts are thrown.""Servant tunnels," she whispers, leaning against th
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