The rest of the day seemed to go by in a drunken haze. Mally wasn’t ever fully aware of where she was or what she was doing. More than anything she was highly attuned to the overwhelming sense of panic that constantly swirled beneath her chest. In towering waves it would engulf her, causing her body to tense into knots, her breathing to hitch, and her vision to spin. She was the princess. Her biological mother and father were the late king and queen of Lenzar. She had studied their portraits in King Salir’s chamber … her mother and father. She must have been happy with them. She frowned. She had been taken away before she was a year old—but she must have been happy. Why was it that she wanted so desperately to know if she had been happy?

Mally shook her head and felt the waves gathering speed once more. She already had a mother and father. Susie and Jonathan Biddle had played those roles; she didn’t want more. And in all honesty, there was still a chance that Cayla’s story had been true. Mally could have been abandoned by her uncaring birthmother in the storage shed beside Jack’s shovels and pails. Cayla could have found her there and tried to find her a decent home. That could have happened …

Mally grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut. Her fingers gripped her head and pulled at her hair. Guilt. All this panic … the fuel for it was guilt. If she was the princess, she could fix Lenzar. It was her duty … her job to return to the throne and fix everything … or, at least, it was what Dr. Keaden, Ivan, and everyone else would think she should do. But what about her? Mally nearly screamed the question aloud. What about her? Didn’t her happiness count for anything? Didn’t her opinion matter? No, Ivan’s voice sounded in her head, his firm eyes glaring at her.

“No,” Mally whispered to the empty room, for she finally realized she was in her bedroom. “No,” she repeated more forcefully, angry tears stinging her eyes.

If Ivan wanted to save Lenzar so badly then he could take the throne. Mally would gladly pass it to him.

There was a sudden commotion downstairs. Bonnie was barking and Susie yelled at her. Mally stood and inched toward the window, pulling the thin drapes aside. A young man on horseback had appeared in their yard. From his clothing, Mally knew he was a letter-carrier. She watched from the safety of her window as the man handed Susie something small and rode away. Mally turned to face her bedroom door, listening to her mother’s footsteps traveling up the stairs and padding their way to her door.

“Mally?” Susie’s voice sounded soft and gentle. “You have a letter.”

A thin envelope was slipped under her door and the retreating sounds of Susie’s footsteps returned to the stairs. Mally picked up the letter. With trepidation she slipped the envelope open and pulled out the folded paper within.

Mally,

Dr. Keaden told me who you are, or who he thinks you are. And I understand why you ran, but I do wish you had left us some kind of message. Lita’s in a mess. I have no idea whether or not you are safely with your mother, but I hope this letter will find you.

I really don’t know what I want to say … come back? Stay hidden? I realize that we’ll probably never see each other again—but I can always hope. Please allow me that hope.

Lita and I will keep your secret.

Please, stay safe.

Galen

Mally stared at the letter. For nearly five minutes she just stared at his signature. Then she became aware that teardrops falling from her cheeks were spattering the ink. She roughly wiped her face, more moved than she could explain that he’d called her Mally and not Princess Avona.

.

Susie was now very worried. She understood that Mally needed to be alone to sort this out … it wasn’t everyday that you found out you were adopted and the lost princess to boot. Susie just wished that there was something she could do … something she could say.

After she’d slipped the letter under Mally’s door, she had returned to the kitchen to continue with dinner. One thing was for sure, Mally had to eat. Such stress could easily make her ill—she needed all the strength she could get.

When the roast was on the table Susie decided it was time. Slowly, but purposefully, she climbed the stairs to Mally’s bedroom. She knocked but only silence greeted her. No … Susie frowned and leaned closer to the door. Sobbing. Mally was crying. Without hesitation, Susie opened the door.

Mally sat hunched over on her bed, a letter clutched in her hands.

“Mally.”

Susie rushed to her and sat beside her. Mally looked up, her red eyes locked on Susie’s.

“You will always be my mother,” she choked.

“Oh, Mally.”

With a great sob, Mally threw herself into Susie’s arms, clinging to her shirt like a child.

.

Mally ate her dinner quietly. Susie kept trying to make small talk, but Mally wasn’t in the mood for conversation. Her mind was busy with what she was going to do once her mother fell asleep. She had made her decision.

She couldn’t live with this guilt. She couldn’t move on, knowing that she might have been able to save the kingdom. She had to know for a fact if she was the princess and there was only one person who could give her that information—Cayla Black. But Cayla lived in Leaveston, a day’s journey from Blighten. From there, depending on the information Cayla gave her, she would return to Bosc.

Her mother would refuse to let her leave alone. But Mally was not about to risk her mother’s life, too. So with a warm smile, she said goodnight to her mother and waited in her bedroom until she was sure she was asleep. She inched down the stairs and left a note on the kitchen table.

.

Dawn rose in an array of pale peaches and apricots. It was still terribly cold, but the wind had mercifully stopped. This time, Mally had been sure to wear a cloak. The rain had turned to snow in the night and the roads glistened and sparkled in the early morning sun. The farmhouses she passed looked like they were made of gingerbread.

Mally tried not to think about how her mother was reacting to her empty bed or her note. She was much too far from Blighten now to turn back, or for her mother to catch up with her.

Thrilled to be on the road again, Sam trotted along happily, twitching his ears in merriment and causing a good number of passerbies to turn and stare. Mally couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips.

Mally suddenly realized that Sam would be even more stunning with a gleaming royal saddle instead of the plain and battered one now on his back. His arched neck, high gait, forward ears, flicking tale—his very blood proclaimed his right to be front and center. Mally shook her head, marveling at how fate itself seemed to be trying to make her accept the truth. What if she’d had a horse worthy of her rank all along?

Mally shook herself, still keeping the tiny ounce of denial left firmly in place. She wouldn’t accept it yet—not fully. Not until she’d spoken to her.

Mally only knew that Hebitha Bones lived in Leaveston. As to the exact location of her abode, she had no idea. But upon entering the large city, she received directions from the toothy proprietor of a vacant bar and twenty minutes later stood stunned before Bones Manor.

Madame Bones had seemed frivolous and eccentric, so Mally shouldn’t have been surprised that her home was just as over-the-top. The house was large and squat with multiple towers shooting off like sprouts from a chopped trunk. Someone had painted the wood and plaster a horrifying baby pink. With its white decorative edges around the windows and doors, it resembled a frosted cake.

Mally bit her lip. Sam snorted beside her.

After tying Sam to a waiting post beside a large and sweeping front stairway, Mally made her way to the front door. Hebitha had decorated many of the statues littering the entrance with wreaths round their stone necks. After tangling herself in a giant, ornamental fan with strings of beads and dried vines, Mally finally managed to pull the bell on the front door.

The door opened and Mally quickly straightened. A stuffy, pinched-looking servant stood in the doorway, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Who is calling?” he asked. Even his voice sounded constricted. Mally wondered if he had a bad cold.

“Mally Biddle. If I may have a word with Madame Bones, please.”

“Humph,” the servant snorted, his watery eyes narrowing in disdain. “You may wait in the welcoming chamber.”

He stepped back to allow her entrance. Nodding politely, Mally walked past him only to stop in her tracks. There was hardly any walking space in the chamber. The walls, what little you could see of them, were a frightening cheddar yellow. Bookcases, spindly chairs with piles of trinkets, vases, paintings …

“Something wrong?” the man simpered, glaring at Mally as if daring her to say anything about his mistress.

“No, nothing,” Mally replied politely.

He nodded stiffly.

“I will inform Madame you are here.”

With amusement Mally watched him cross the room with what she could only describe as artistry, ducking and weaving through the mess before disappearing through a door she had not spotted in all the clutter. She wasn’t left alone for very long. The servant soon returned and asked her to follow him. They walked past several other rooms that were just as cluttered as the welcoming chamber. Then they entered a room that reminded Mally of a crowded tea shop. The air was horribly stuffy thanks to a very large, burning fire. Mally immediately removed her cloak. Along the walls, Hebitha Bones had hung numerous portraits of Marlo, her yellow cat. His fur clashed horribly with the red walls. With a bit of difficulty, Mally managed to squeeze past tables and squishy chairs to reach Hebitha Bones.

“My dear!” Madame Bones exclaimed loudly. She extended her short arms to Mally in warm welcome “Sit! Sit! I do love visitors! Cream or sugar?”

“Cream, thank you.”

Mally sat in a very fluffy, pink chair and sunk a few inches. She took a cup of tea from Madame Bones and sipped it. A sickly sweet smell hung heavily in the room. Mally wondered if Hebitha ordered the servants to spray the room daily with perfume.

“I don’t mean to be rude, my dear, but I don’t know who you are,” Madam Bones said pleasantly, peering at Mally through her gloopy eyelashes.

“I was a servant at Bosc Castle during the Winter Ball.”

Madam Bones fluttered her droopy lashes for a moment before her eyes widened in recognition. “Ah yes! Yes, I remember you! What is it I can do for you, dear?” Madam Bones asked as she picked up a cake from a blindingly shiny platter. She kept her other hand firmly placed on Marlo, who sat in her lap. His yellow eyes glared at Mally.

“I was hoping you would allow me to speak to one of your servants,” Mally said calmly, though her heart rate was picking up speed.

“One of my servants?” Hebitha stared at Mally, her hand halted in its search for another cake.

“Yes, I believe her name is Cayla Black?”

“Cayla?” Madam Bones blinked rapidly, making her eyelashes flap like batwings. “Oh, yes! She is charming!” Madam Bones exclaimed. “Don’t know what I’d—oh, Marlo!” Marlo had sensed that his distracted mistress had slackened her hold and he dove out of her lap, yellow tail high in the air as he streaked between tables and chairs. “Robert! ROBERT!” Madam Bones cried frantically.

The stuffy servant who had welcomed Mally appeared in the doorway just as Marlo dashed between his legs.

“I’ll get him, Madam!” Robert proclaimed, spinning on the spot.

“And Miss Black!” Mally added.

“Yes! Yes—Cayla!” Madam Bones echoed. “Bring Cayla, Robert!”

A crash answered them. Madam Bones flopped back in her chair, looking like a winded chicken. Mally quickly refilled her teacup.

“Oh. Oh, thank you dear,” Madam Bones thanked her weakly, taking the cup. She sipped it, grimaced and added more sugar. Another crash sounded along with a muffled oof! Mally flinched at the smashing sounds. Madam Bones however, didn’t seem to notice the destruction of her possessions that accompanied the search for Marlo.

“Have you had a cake?” Madam Bones asked sweetly, now looking much less flustered.

Mally shook her head and Madam Bones placed a cake dripping in thick icing on a plate. Mally took a bite, nearly choked, and politely put it back down.

“You, um, have a lovely home,” said Mally, making a stab at conversation just as another loud shattering reached their ears.

Madam Bones smiled girlishly.

“It’s home,” she said happily.

“Madam.” Robert had returned. Three long scratches ran down his hand, and a lump was turning red on his temple. Clamped in his arms was an extremely sour Marlo.

Madam Bones leapt to her feet.

“Oh, well done, Robert!” She took Marlo from him and turned back to Mally, looking oddly uneasy. “My dear, I do hope you don’t mind, but your company seems to disagree with Marlo. You won’t mind if I leave you with Cayla?”

Mally’s eyebrows rose. “That’s perfectly all right,” she assured her. “My apologies to Marlo.”

Madam Bones nodded happily and trotted out of the room.

“Cayla will be here shortly,” said Robert tartly.

“Thank you.”

Robert closed the door.

A bit astonished at what she had just sat through, Mally blinked at the silverware.

“You wanted to see me?”

Startled, Mally turned in her chair.

“Yes, thank you.” Mally stood hastily, suddenly breathless.

Cayla looked just as she had at Bosc Castle, though there seemed to be an extra degree of stiffness in her countenance.

“Would you like to sit?” Mally motioned to the chair Madam Bones had vacated.

Cayla stared at Mally. She looked like she was biting the inside of her mouth. Mally, starting to feel hot in the face at the strained atmosphere, decided it was now or never.

“I have been told that you were the personal maid for Princess Avona,” Mally stated boldly.

Cayla’s face hardly flickered.

“Yes. I was.”

“Ah.”

Silence settled over them once more.

“Are you sure I can’t offer you tea?” Mally asked, desperate to lighten the mood.

“Perhaps, Miss Biddle, you can tell me what it is you came here to say,” Cayla replied shortly.

Mally blushed, suddenly feeling like a scolded child. She gritted her teeth.

“My mother told me the truth. You brought me to her as a baby.”

Cayla’s skin turned a milky white.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she hissed.

Mally blinked, feeling her own face pale as the last shred of denial was swept away.

“I was horrified when I saw you at the castle!” Cayla continued in a hoarse whisper, as if afraid of being overheard. “Don’t you realize the danger you were in, being employed there?”

“I think I’m starting to realize that,” Mally admitted.

Cayla turned away from Mally, frustrated.

“Why did you take me from the castle in the first place?” Mally asked, wanting to understand as much as she could while Cayla was willing to talk.

Cayla looked at her as if she were stupid.

“The king had been murdered. And the queen’s accident was no accident! It was only logical that you were next. What would you have done?”

“But Alice Spindle—”

“Don’t talk to me about Alice!” Cayla lashed out so fiercely that Mally flinched. Cayla breathed deeply and said more calmly, “I’m sorry.” She ran a trembling hand over her hair. “Alice Spindle did not kill the king. She was set up.”

“By who?” Mally pressed. “Surely you suspected someone.”

Cayla nodded.

“I did. But … now I’m not so sure.” Cayla shook her head as if remembering something from long ago. “You and Susie need to leave Lenzar,” Cayla pressed. “We cannot risk someone discovering who you are. You will not be safe anywhere in this kingdom.”

“I can’t do that,” Mally argued, surprising herself with her conviction. “I have to make this right. I’m going back.”

“No!” Cayla gripped her arms. “You mustn’t! Molick will kill you!”

“I must make this right—”

“MARLO!”

Mally and Cayla spun around just as Richard sprinted toward them down the hall. Marlo, quick as a flash, raced through the half-open door, disappearing somewhere in the clutter. Richard banged the door open and for a moment stared at Cayla and Mally. Huffing and chattering frantically, Madam Bones appeared behind Richard.

“Ah ha!” Richard must have spotted a paw because he dived under a squat couch. In his dive, he knocked over a tall, heavy candelabra. Mally leapt backwards to dodge it, but Cayla moved too slowly and had to catch it, leaving her struggling under its weight. Two more servants rushed into the room having heard the commotion. Somewhere in the activity, Mally heard Marlo hiss, Richard cry out, and Madam Bones’s constant pleads of “Careful! Oh, be careful!” Sensing her opportunity to leave without being noticed, Mally slipped out of the room and left Bones Manor before anyone could stop her.