Page 119 of A Kingdom of Shadow and Ash
‘So it is not yours?’
Klara shook her head. ‘I was planning on giving it back to her, I swear it.’
Mal tapped her fingers against the cover, considering. ‘Well then… In that case, you won’t mind if I…’ She flipped the notebook open.
And began tearing pages out.
Klara reacted before she could think. A scream tore from her throat, sharp and ragged, as if Mal were not shredding paper but rather her very skin.
Mal’s movements stilled. She tilted her head, a slow, knowing smile curving her lips. ‘Huh, that was quite a reaction, wasn’t it, Wren? Especially for someone that seems to only be keeping it for a friend for the time being.’
‘It’s not mine,’ Klara spat, trying to steady her breathing. ‘If I give it back broken, Vera will think I’m the culprit.’
‘Strange how she didn’t even flinch or look surprised when we said Vera’s a witch,’ Wren intervened. ‘Maybe she already knew. Maybe she’s anaccomplice.’
‘No, I amnot,’ Klara snapped, her voice high-pitched and desperate. ‘I’m just a simple maid, I swear it.’
‘Great,’ Mal said, standing abruptly, hauling Klara up with her. ‘Then you’ll bring us to Vera and once we have her in front of us, you will be free to go.’
Klara hesitated as panic surged through her veins. She could distract them. She could use her magic, twist her form, becomeVerabefore they noticed the switch.
But they wouldn’t let her out of their sight.
She could fight them, flee.
Or confess.
Klara’s heart pounded as she weighed her options.
She had never meant to harm Mal Blackburn. Quite the opposite. She had wanted to help her. But if she revealed herself now—if Mal chose to hand her over to the drakonians…
The consequences would be unforgivable.
Klara let Mal drag her back through the castle, weaving through dimly lit hallways and up the winding staircases to the wyverian princess’s chambers. Their passage drew no attention—just two royal figures moving purposefully with a servant in tow, their presence mundane, unremarkable. No one looked twice. No one suspected that behind the delicate steps of the princesses and the docile pace of the maid, there lurked something dark, something dangerous.
Mal shut the doors behind them with a quiet click, sealing them in. With a firm push, she forced Klara into a chair, the weight of the moment settling like a blade pressed to the throat.
And it was then that Klara realised—Mal had never asked where Vera’s room was.
She hadn’t needed to.
A slow, resigned breath left Klara’s lips. ‘You already knew.’
Mal gave a small, satisfied nod. ‘I thought the idea of seeingyou sweat over trying to fool us was rather entertaining. Wanted to see how you were planning on transforming into Vera without us noticing.’
‘So why am I not sweating?’
‘It would be rather cruel of us.’ Mal shrugged, her expression unreadable. ‘Are you going to keep pretending?’
The moment the words left her lips, the nervous look that had clung to Klara like a mask melted away, as did the golden strands of her hair.
A ripple of magic twisted the air around her, and suddenly the trembling, fair-haired maid was gone. In her place sat another—a red-haired drakonian with small brown horns, a face Mal recognised instantly.
Vera.
‘It is wonderful to see you once again, Vera,’ she said. ‘But I did not mean for this. You can show your true face,witch.’
A huff of irritation, and then the illusion collapsed like smoke dissolving into the wind. The red-haired drakonian shimmered, her image folding into itself before vanishing completely.
