My heart was still pounding as I headed back to my room, finally dismissed as Isadora and Caspian escorted Tritetia and her mother back to the main palace. My mind was a storm of thoughts, each one louder than the last. Everything felt like it had shifted in the span of a single evening, and I was still struggling to make sense of it.

  It was a brilliant move, I couldn’t deny that. Caspian had ensured that Yssac would be under his direct control rather than his father’s and the Marquess had no good reason to deny the request. An aide to the crown prince was a role men twice Yssac’s age would fight for and not would the Marquess have looked like a fool if he had refused, he valued appearances too much to let that happen. I had no doubt that Blackwood was likely scheming ways to still sway Yssac to his side, but it was going to be far harder for him.

  But that didn’t mean I had to like it.

  I grit my teeth, my hands curling into fists as I stalked through the dimly lit corridor. Knowing that Yssac was here, walking the same halls as me, speaking to the same people, breathing the same air—it made my skin crawl. My mind kept flashing back to my first life, how he had gloated about having my mother killed, about how she was holding me back from giving him my loyalty, was enough to make my stomach twist with barely contained fury. But I forced myself to breathe, to keep walking, even as the rage burned beneath my skin like a wildfire waiting to consume me.

  I reached the hallway leading to my room, but before I could turn the corner, I caught sight of a familiar figure standing near one of the arching windows. My mother. The soft glow of the lanterns lit her face in warm tones, and I felt the tightness in my chest ease, if only slightly. But then I noticed who she was speaking to.

  I froze on instinct, my stomach twisting as my gaze landed on Yssac. He stood a few steps away from my mother, his posture straight but not stiff, as if he were doing his best to appear respectful without seeming subservient. His expression was calm, his usual smirk absent, and for the first time, he didn’t look like the arrogant noble man I had come to despise. I pressed myself back against the wall, my breath slow and controlled as I reached up to remove my earmuffs. If they were talking, I needed to hear every word.

  “I wanted to apologize,” Yssac said, and the sincerity in his tone nearly made me recoil. “For what I said at the shop. I spoke out of turn, and it was… wrong of me.”

  My mother didn’t respond immediately, and I could see the slight tilt of her head as she studied him. Then, she sighed, shaking her head. “Teenagers will be teenagers. I’ve met plenty of noble boys who don’t know how to hold their tongues and speak as they want because they know commoners can’t do anything.”

  I had to fight a laugh as Yssac flinched, catching the harsh implications of my mother’s kind tone. Even if outside the palace he was a future Marquess and she was still a commoner, here they were equals in status. I knew her well enough to recognize when she was humoring someone, and that was exactly what she was doing now. She wasn’t angry, but she wasn’t impressed by his apology either. To her, he was just another noble-born boy trying to play the part of someone better than his upbringing allowed.

  “I’ll be more careful with my words,” Yssac promised, but there was a stiffness to it, like he was saying what he thought she wanted to hear rather than what he truly believed. It was almost reassuring to hear that he was still a bit arrogant; if he was someone a completely different person I would almost think Caspian had taken the wrong boy. “Please teach me well.”

  “I’m not the one you need to impress,” my mother said simply, turning away. “You were chosen for a position nobles fight for. Represent your family well.”

  With that, she walked past him, her pace unhurried. My breath hitched as she approached my hiding spot, and I pressed myself further into the shadows, barely daring to breathe as she passed. My mother didn’t notice me. Her expression was a mix of calm indifference and mild amusement, as if Yssac’s words had been nothing more than an afterthought in her evening. I waited until she had disappeared down the hall before shifting my attention back to Yssac, my pulse still unsteady from the encounter.

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  He stood in the same place, his hands now clasped behind his back as he watched the window with a contemplative expression. The dim lantern light caught the edges of his blond hair, casting long shadows across his face, but I could still make out the faintest quirk of his lips. It wasn’t his usual smug grin, nor the forced politeness he had worn in front of my mother—it was something more private, something pleased.

  “I can’t believe my father spoke so badly about Caspian,” Yssac muttered, half to himself, half to the empty air. I tensed, barely daring to breathe. “He tried to drag me back to that frigid nowhere and Caspian is giving me the chance of a lifetime.”

  I frowned, shifting slightly in the shadows to get a better view. He was talking to himself, but there was a quiet excitement in his voice, an energy I didn’t like. Yssac wasn’t the type to be grateful. He wasn’t the type to feel indebted to anyone, least of all someone his father despised. But here he was, standing in the dim hallway, speaking as if Caspian had done him the greatest favor of his life.

  I held my breath as he sighed, rolling his shoulders before muttering, “He might hate him because he’s his nephew, but I never believed half the nonsense he says about him. Caspian seems perfectly human to me.”

  The air around me seemed to thin as I attempted to process what I had just heard. Marquess Blackwood hated Caspian because they were related, and on top of that, the Marquess knew he wasn’t human? The world tilted slightly, my heart hammering against my ribs. Yssac’s voice was dismissive, indifferent, but my mind was spinning. Suddenly, so much of the puzzle made sense; how the Marquess seemed to know Caspian's every secret, how he had understood what I was far before even my mother knew and why his hatred of Caspian felt more personal than political.

  I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt as I forced my breathing to remain steady. Yssac still hadn’t moved, still seemed lost in thought as he gazed out the window and I finally understood what Caspian was doing. If Yssac was his younger cousin, his goal was simple; show the impressionable teenager who was more useful in his life. The friendly cousin who was willing to give him a position that guaranteed high ranking connections and prestige or the father who wanted to keep him isolated in the south and force him to replace that cousin. It also meant he could override any brainwashing Blackwood had already put in his son’s head, and potentially sever the Marquess’s hold over him entirely.

  Yssac exhaled softly, shaking his head before turning away from the window. I barely had enough time to slip further into the shadows as he strode down the hall, his footsteps light despite the weight of his words lingering in the air. He didn’t look back, didn’t hesitate. He carried himself like someone who believed he had won a battle no one else knew had been fought. I waited until I could no longer hear his footsteps and then I stepped back into the hallway, finishing the short walk to my room.

  Once the door closed behind me, I leaned against them, considering what I had overheard. Caspian had solved the problem of Yssac, but there was a good chance that if Caspian successfully turned him against his father, the Marquess would become more desperate. Yssac had been the one to order my mother’s death, but Blackwood had done nothing to stop it. I had no doubt that if he somehow managed to figure out what I was, he would not hesitate to kill her and try to force me to kill Caspian

  I pushed myself off the door, feeling the crystal Tritetia had given me shift in my pocket. I wanted to ask her to check my or my mother’s future, but with her and her mother leaving in the morning, it was too risky for either of us to sneak around the palace tonight. Instead, I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to sit on the edge of my bed, my fingers tightening around the crystal’s smooth surface. There were too many pieces falling into place too quickly, and I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or unnerved by how easily it all fit together.

  “Pointless…” I mumbled, collapsing on my bed as I stared at the ceiling. Things were far too different for me to assume how and what the Marquess would do in retaliation, and all I could do was pass the year until Trietia returned for the following summer. I also had two years until I would be allowed into the Imperial library, so my chances of learning more were still far in the future.

  I closed my eyes, trying to will myself to relax. Things were different; my mother was safer than she had ever been in our entire lives, safe enough to talk back to a Marquess’s son. I just had to be patient.

  So I bided my time, until my thirteenth birthday came around.