Page 26 of Revert
Over the next weeks, other notes arrived, concealed in my tea trays or books about Thorndale that I was assigned to read in preparation for my marriage. I realized that I had the unique opportunity to not only infiltrate Thorndale’s palace without suspicion, but to move about freely under the guise of my role as future queen.
Or at least I’d thought I had such freedom before I arrived in the court of darkness and realized just how limited my movements were, and how heavily I was watched. Progress had been achingly slow as I couldn’t afford to do anything or go anywhere that could raise suspicion.
I knew I had friends within the palace walls—others who worked behind the scenes to support my cause—but obviously it was far too dangerous for us to meet aside from very rare timeslike this one, when vital information must be exchanged in code, and even that bore costly risk.
It wasn’t my part to know who my contact was, or why they concealed their cryptic information, or how they accomplished the impossible to infiltrate the palace and arrange these meetings. My part was to act—to listen, to obey, and to carry out the tasks assigned to me without hesitation.
This was my chance to gather information about the world beyond the court’s iron grip, to finally understand some of the forces that moved outside these gilded walls.
And yet, as I tried to quietly press for what else had changed and what events were unfolding differently this time, I kept circling back to the same unsettling realization: most of the shifts and subtle fractures in the pattern I thought I knew were centered around Prince Castiel.
Of all the things that could have bent under the weight of a second chance…why washethe one changing the most?
I drew a slow, steadying breath, fighting the urge to glance back towards the golden flicker of the ballroom and the man whose touch still lingered faintly on my skin.Stay composed, don’t let them see you falter.
The contact waited expectantly for my usual report, though as had become all too common lately, I had nothing to offer but disappointment. I couldn’t bring myself to voice my failings aloud, but my silence spoke volumes.
“You still don’t have it?” they demanded.
I braced myself and shook my head. I couldn’t even claim I knew where the object of my mission was located. The only time I’d suspected that I’d discovered the location had been the night I died just outside its door. Every attempt to reach it in this timeline had only led to a dead end, leaving me back where I started.
Even behind the orange mask, I could sense their disapproval. They didn’t have to voice their frustration—I was already attacking myself relentlessly with thoughts of my inadequacy.
“Five years,” the fox murmured coolly. “And yet so little to show for it. It’s rather…disappointing.”
I yearned to defend myself with the reminder that I’d been trained as a princess, not a spy, but it wouldn’t change the fact I was failing the mission I’d agreed to.
I lowered my gaze. “I’m sorry. I’m doing everything I can, but it’s difficult when even someone in my position can’t move freely; I’m constantly watched.”
“It’s imperative you still find a way. You must find that artifact. Time is running out.”
The deadline had always been looming, but at the urgency sharpening their voice, foreboding tightened my chest. “We’re running out so soon? How’s Father?”
The fox fell silent, and in the hush, all my worst fears rushed in to fill the space. “His condition is worsening,” they said at last.
Ice laced through my veins and my breath caught, sharp and shallow. How was that possible? At this point of the last timeline, he’d been weakening yet still stable. How could he already be so much worse?
“What’s wrong with him? What herbs is he taking? Is he being looked after? What—” My panicked rush of questions was cut short as the fox raised a gloved hand in a gentle command for silence.
“Rest easy, Princess. His Majesty has only the best care.”
Logically, I knew that, but the knowledge did nothing to quiet my gnawing worry. Beneath the concern, a deeper frustration twisted sharp—I had spent five years apart from Father, five years locked in this gilded prison while he slipped further fromreach. I was powerless; the weight of that uselessness pressed against my chest, suffocating.
“Needless to say,” the fox continued, “you must act soon.”
Act soon. As if I didn’t already know the importance of my mission or the consequences should I fail to meet my deadline. Yet my situation hadn’t changed—a prisoner in a gilded cage, watched at every turn, the hard-won information from my first timeline unraveling with no new leads to replace it, keeping me at a standstill.
I hesitated, then risked a whisper. “And you’re certain this object will help him and my kingdom. How can you be?—”
The fox shook their head sharply, cutting off the half-formed curiosity. “You know the rules.”
I nodded, biting back the questions aching to escape. My mission was the acquire the object to secure the salvation of my kingdom. As the crown prince’s betrothed, I was the one who possessed the rarest currency in a court as tightly controlled as Thorndale’s:access.
For now all I could do was move forward the best I could with the tools and knowledge available to me. “Did you only come for a progress report, or do you also have information for me?”
The fox tilted their head. “I have a message…and a warning.”
My pulse stuttered. “Go on.”
