Page 18 of Wrath of the Never Queen

I am not allowed outside of my bedchambers, and it is not long before I begin to feel the first stirrings of a mad mind. I am restless. Confined. Inez is the only person I seewho speaks to me. The others do not even make eye contact. Perhaps out of fear of the king. Perhaps because it is not worth getting to know a condemned woman.

My sleep becomes fitful again. I am reduced to thinking out loud during the long hours between Inez’s visits. There are not even books in the room. I scour every inch of my chambers, Morraine’s name scratched into my mind like the wood of the bed.

The next time Inez visits, she finds me pacing back and forth, muttering to myself.

“Miss?” She places the lunch tray down slowly as though dealing with an erratic animal. “Are you quite alright?”

“No, Inez, I am not,” I say. I stop pacing to turn and look at her. I am rife with agitation and unable to stay still. Instead, I hop from one foot to the other. “I need to leave this room. I am…” I begin to pace again. “I am losing my mind.”

Inez fidgets with her apron.

“Well…the king is not here…”

I brighten at her words.

“He is not?”

“His Highness left on a political trip of some sort. To Swordstead.”

I am reminded of the fruits I saw during my first and only dinner with the king. I wonder what this means for Mossgarde. Worse, will this trip strengthen the king’s position? I push this to the side for the moment and force myself tofocus on the now.

“So, I am free to move about the castle?” I ask Inez.

“The guards will report on your movements.” She shakes her head. “They will tell the king you have left your chambers.”

“This is ridiculous. How am I to break the curse if I cannot even leave my room?” I huff, but the king’s absence has emboldened me. I tap my finger off my chin, thinking. “Let me help you.”

“Help me, miss?” Inez blinks at me.

“Allow me to come with you and help you with your tasks for the day,” I explain. “I am sure you have many and…and I would be glad to be of help. It would mean I can leave this wretched room, and all the guards will see is a common girl doing servant work.”

I watch the thoughts churning in Inez’s mind as she casts her eyes downwards.

“Surely not all the maidens in the room were forced to remain here?”

“Well, no. They were not. But they also did not bite the prince.” Inez sighs. “Very well. Perhaps you can help the kitchen staff with preparing dinner for this evening.”

“I would be happy to!” I exclaim, elated at the chance of leaving these four walls. The more I learn about the layout of the castle, the more chance I have for escape.

I follow Inez out of my chambers. A guard is posted in the hall outside, standing toattention. He gives us a sharp look.

“She will be assisting us in the kitchen today,” Inez tells him with a firmness I have not heard from her before. “So she may better serve the prince during her time here.”

The guard gives us a long look but eventually nods. We scurry away.

The kitchen is one floor down, at the end of a set of narrow steps. Inez explains the servants rarely use these pathways as the castle is riddled with tunnels that make getting around much more efficient.

The kitchen is large, and I am surprised to see it is actually one of several kitchens, each joined and in charge of a different meal. It is full of staff, and they buzz around like the insects above the swamp water—organised but swift. I shrink back, slightly overwhelmed.

“Come.” Inez pulls me gently by the arm. “Meet some of the staff.”

She takes me to an adjacent room where the sweet smell of sugar hangs in the air. Chefs are lined across the counter, working in tandem. In one section, they create delicate-looking pastries. In another, others move fast to transform sugared fruit into decorative pieces. I stand in awe of them.

“This is Vanya,” Inez introduces a tall, imposing woman with powdered sugar on her cheek. She regards me warily.

“It is so nice to meet you.” I incline myhead. “My name is Shivani, I…”

I glance at Inez for reassurance and she smiles encouragingly.

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