Page 73 of The Mad King and the False Queen

Footsteps alerted Dagmara that Sabien was descending the staircase. She quickly folded the paper, slipped it back in the box and covered her tracks. She returned to the center of the platform and began closing the glass case, locking away the Scribestone as Sabien approached with a book under his arm.

“Keys,” he asked, holding out his palm.

Dagmara returned the keys.

Then Sabien held out the giant black book. “Here is the current administration.”

“Thank you,” said Dagmara, reaching out to take it, but he quickly withdrew.

“What do I get in return?”

Startled, Dagmara’s expression withered. “I gave you your keys.”

He chuckled, “No, I want something else.” He took a step closer. “Show me what trinkets you have in your pocket.”

“Don’t be rude,” Dagmara said. She reached out once more, but he held the book above her head. Her chest nearly smacked into his, and he took advantage of her proximity. He grabbed her chin, leaning closer.

“It’s only fair to reciprocate generosity,” he said.

She batted his hand away, jerking back. “I’m a guardian, of course I’m generous.”

His lip curled into a vicious grin. “I see right through you. Who are you trying to fool?”

Her stomach plummeted. Her skin prickled, and she felt the shift in her breathing.

Then he grabbed her wrist, lifting her hand up to reveal her palm. “A little odd for a guardian with healing abilities to have a recent wound, isn’t it?”

Dagmara tried to pull away, but his grip was too tight. “It’s an old scar.”

“Really?” Sabien shifted his grasp, digging his thumb into the center of her palm.

A gasp escaped her lips as pain surged through her hand, rippling up her arm. “Stop!” she shrieked, shoving his chest.

To both of their surprise, the library door opened, and Martine entered. “There you are!” Dagmara’s guard exclaimed.

Sabien immediately relinquished Dagmara, stepping away.

Yanking her hand to her chest, Dagmara examined the mark. The cut had reopened, and a drop of blood was pooling in the center of her palm. She glowered at Sabien before hiding her hand behind her back.

“I thought I…” Martine’s voice trailed off as her eyes flicked back and forth from Dagmara to her captain.

“Martine,” Sabien said, his voice suddenly becoming authoritarian. “You have one responsibility: watch the princess. Care to explain where you’ve been?”

Her lips parted, but nothing came out.

“I told you I was waiting for her,” Dagmara cut through the silence. She trotted down the platform stairs, escaping the captain.

“I thought you needed this?” Sabien called, waving the book.

“Martine will help me,” replied Dagmara. Her steps quickened, almost thinking Sabien would chase her down. She didn’t look back as she reached Martine’s side and interlaced their arms. She nearly pulled Martine out into the hallway, not knowing if she was leading them in the correct direction.

“Are you alright?” Martine asked. “We found the guard and—”

“He fainted, and I went to get help.”

“You’re shaking,” Martine noted.

“I’m fine,” Dagmara’s response was curt, but she wouldn’t let go of Martine’s arm, feeling a strange sense of security.

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