Tievel did join The Hunt, and for the next three days, he stumbled home at dawn and left before the Midday bell. I glimpsed him once in passing, and he spared me a soft smile. It was gone as quickly as it came, replaced with a foreign tight-lipped expression of concentration.

Even if he had not joined the others in the search for the Deathsinger and Reaper, I would not have seen much of him. All the upper nobility had come to the castle to pay their respects to the king, and they had stayed for The Hunt. Most would stay long after since there was no point in returning to their country estates so close to the beginning of the social season. That meant the palace was severely short staffed, and I had to join the maids on their daily rounds until they could bring in help.

I didn't mind the arrangement. Not only did it keep my mind busy, but it gave me an excuse to avoid the noblewomen who went out of their way to make me miserable. If they knew I was the one cleaning their rooms and tossing out their chamber pots, the teasing would never cease, but thankfully, they were too conceited to look the servants in the eye, which offered me some sense of anonymity as I went about my work.

The same couldn't be said of Joreen, though. Since her treasonous outburst in my bedroom, she steered clear of me when possible, and on the few occasions we were forced to share a lift or clean a room together, she spoke little and didn't look me in the eye.

It didn't matter. Her passion and accusations haunted me every hour—waking and sleeping. I wanted to tell her I believed her. That I'd seen the darkness creeping into the kingdom, too, but acknowledging it felt like I would have to do something about it. I wasn't ready.

"Why are we heading up here?" Astreia asked. She'd taken to joining me whenever she could escape the queen and her ladies, and she also requested I be assigned to her room and Tievel's.

The lift came to a jostling halt, and the attendant raised the gate to let us out. Thanking him, I waited until we were at Tievel's door to reply.

"Tievel was still sleeping during our normal cleaning time. He's been out late with the Hunt. They return at dawn and leave before midday bell."

"Is it not easier to search during the daylight?" Astreia said, launching herself into the middle of the prince's untidy bed. "They only have a few bells of daylight if they leave at midday."

"I suppose they think Deathsingers are creatures of the darkness," I joked. If they did have a penchant for darkness, then perhaps I wasn't one. Sunlight pleased me as much as moonlight.

Staring about the room, I tried to figure out what was different. Books were piled high on the nightstand; not unusual, though the covers looked worn with age. Tievel wasn't one for the classics, preferring modern literature and poems written by his peers over ancient texts penned by a bunch of dead people. Leave it to him to be prejudiced against death, even in his reading taste.

"Does the air seem really fresh in here?" Astreia asked, her nose wrinkling as she sniffed.

Snapping, I cried out, "That's it."

Hurrying to the nightstand, I found it free of the usual Kanna ash. No soured cups of Goblin wine littered the surface, either.

"Is our little prince running about completely sober?" the princess crowed with glee. "Oh, he must feel miserable."

The first book on the large stack drew my attention. There was no title on its cover or spine, but when I flipped to the first page, the topic became very clear. A woman, almost skeletal in appearance and dressed in rags, filled the entire page. Her mouth opened in an unending scream, and black swallowed her eyes and fanned out across her skin.

Deathsinger was jotted next to the image. It was all the confirmation I needed, and suddenly, it was hard to breathe.

"Is that a Deathsinger?" Astreia asked, reading over my shoulder. She grabbed the next book. "This is about Deathsingers too. These texts must be heavily guarded. If anyone but the prince were found with them, they would be hung. Though, I guess it makes sense to keep them for research. But I think these are going to be more fables and legends than truth."

"And you're the expert," I mumbled, dropping the book as though it burned.

"Estresllum was a friend to Deathsingers," she said, working her way through the pile. It was the most I had ever heard her speak about such a forbidden topic. "Most of these are about containing a Deathsinger, particularly keeping her alive but taking her voice. What on earth?"

"If I find her, I will hide her away for that day."

I'd not talked to Tievel since the night he left my room, but I'd taken his words as the ramblings of a man deep under the influence of drugs and alcohol. Clearly, he meant what he said, and he had no intentions of killing a Deathsinger if he caught one. That should have offered some relief, but the depictions in the books made death look preferable over captivity.

Astreia delved into the books while I worked—a rare, serious mask falling over her exquisite features. From time to time, I would look up to find a wrinkle between her brow as she read a page, or sometimes she would stare toward the window with a vacant expression.

"Figured it out yet?" I asked, failing to sound as uninterested as I wanted to sound.

"I have a theory or two," Astreia said, snapping a book closed. "Some are worse than others, but Tievel is up to something, that's for sure."

The princess rarely treated me like a commoner, so it bothered me that she was choosing to play coy now, almost as if she thought such information was too much for my simple mind. I shoved her toward the edge of the bed harder than necessary, earning a reproachful glare.

"I have to make the bed," I explained, fluffing the pillows so hard feathers escaped the pillowcase.

"A polite request to move will do next time," Astreia said, but she didn't seem too angry.

"There, all done," I announced, just as warning bells clanged overhead. Tievel's room was right next to the bell tower, and the racket caused the stones to shake so hard dust fell from the crevices between them.

"What in the world?" We both screeched in unison. It was not Midday or Evening.

"Jor," I yelled at one of the passing servants. He paused, holding the door to the stairwell open. "What is happening?"

"The Hunt has returned, and they've got someone."

I swayed in shock, able to cover my near collapse by bracing against the wall. Collecting myself, I followed after the others. On the first floor we found ourselves swallowed by a growing crowd hurrying toward the throne room. Astreia gripped my hand, using her position to maneuver us through the crowds without incident.

Trumpets sounded, and the crowd parted for the returning Hunt, Prince Tievel leading the way. A woman sat in the center of a cage carried by four men. I inched closer, desperate to see if there was any physical marking that made her stand out as a Deathsinger.

She sat with her head in her lap, and her bright blonde hair fell around her face like the broken strings of a spider's web. Her dress had once been white, but now it was nearly gray and shredded to the point of immodesty. I could count every single ridge of her spine, and her shoulder blades formed needle sharp points. Other than the clear neglect, the woman appeared like any other low elf I'd ever seen.

The procession stopped, and Tievel, his hair so gold the chandeliers hanging above us looked gaudy and fake, offered his father a sweeping bow before turning to point at the poor creature in the cage.

Before he could speak, King Brinley stood. The excited chatter ceased. The only sound in the room came from the sobbing woman in the cage.

"Why," King Brinley hissed, eyes bluer than his son's darkening with anger the longer he stared at the woman, "is it still breathing?"

Astreia clutched my hand so tight her nails broke the skin, but I didn't withdraw from her grasp. Blood dripped between our palms, and we held our breath as Tievel raised his hand to stop his father's approach.

"She will reveal where the Reaper is," Tievel answered.

King Brinley paused, then turned to walk back to his throne. "It lies. They are all deceivers. It should be killed before it can Sing."

A soldier rushed toward the cage, his long sword held aloft to slide through the bars and impale the woman.

"Stop," Tievel insisted. "I've dosed her with Goldenroot. She cannot speak or Sing for at least three days."

"And how can a mute woman tell us where her kin are, and why would she be so inclined to share that information?"

Tievel's shoulders drew back, his confidence growing. In any other situation, I would have admired the change in him, but he was gambling with a woman's life. Possibly an innocent woman's life.

"She can write, and she's willing to confess in exchange for her life. She will allow our surgeons to take away her ability to speak."

King Brinley snarled, his long fur coat fanning around him as he spun back to face his son. "We shall not allow a murderer to live. This witch killed your grandfather."

"It was not her, sire," Sir Kyo, a nobleman from the Sea Court, said. "We are still looking for her, but we hope it will not take us long once this witch tells us what she knows."

"Fine, but get her out of my sight, and though her life may be spared, she will never leave this prison again. Is that understood?"

Tievel placed a fist over his heart and bowed again. They marched out of the throne room. The crowd remained silent until the king walked out with Queen Thera, and all at once, everyone spoke.

"That woman is no more a Deathsinger than I am," Astreia growled, pulling us into a more secluded corner. "That dress was a Pixie wedding gown. They saw a thin woman in white and grabbed her."

Her vehemence startled me, and I felt guilty for feeling more relieved than angered by the woman's sad fate.

"At least she won't be put to death," I offered, adding silently, and she has no actual information to share with the King.

Astreia scoffed, her argent eyes burning. "Death would be better than being a prisoner. It's a good thing she will not be one."

"Do I want to know what you're thinking?" I asked, nerves tingling in recognition of danger.

"Meet me in my rooms at dusk," she said, merging into the crowd before I could protest.

I watched her go with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Somehow, I had escaped this Hunt with my life, but I wasn't so certain that would be the case if I got involved in whatever scheme Astreia was planning. Feeling eyes on me, I looked up and discovered Joreen watching me across the room. She shook her head, scowled, and disappeared into the crowd.