opulent velvet canopy, elaborately embroidered with gold thread and woven to look like stars in the night sky. And realized I was right back where I started.

I was a fugitive once again.

Masquerade

The journey to the seaside town of Calos would take about four days. Brandon had given us new identities and clothes for the journey. I was grateful we decided to travel by coach and stop at well-kept inns along the way. My thighs ached from all the previous riding, and my bottom was terribly sore.

I peeked out of my curtained window as the carriage rambled along the main road, lurching and bumping over stones as we passed overgrown woods, open fields, and small villages. Weary travelers ambled past and farmers hurried back and forth with their wagons laden with produce to sell in the closest town. Rafe, Kalen, and Marcus rode beside the coach disguised as guards, serving as our escort. I wished it were Rafe who sat beside me instead of Brandon.

While we traveled, Brandon proceeded to tell me more about the area, pointing out important historical sites and giving me more information about the kingdom of Eldoren.

“That one,” Brandon pointed to the ruins of what once must have been a grand castle, “was once the largest fortress in southern Eldoren.”

“What happened to it?” I scanned the charred structure that remained.

“They say it was burned to the ground over two decades ago by the Prince of the Night Court, a merciless High Fae warrior, who swept down from the sky and wreaked havoc on our kingdom. People in this area still talk about the dark prince and his fury and hatred toward the mages.”

“Why did he do it?” My voice was almost a whisper.

Brandon shrugged. “I have no idea. But he nearly shattered the fragile peace between our kingdoms. It was only because Izadora intervened that war between the mages and fae was averted.” He paused and leaned back in his seat. “Be careful of the fae, Aurora. Not all of them are like your friend Kalen. I have heard the Royal Court of Elfi is an evil place. Full of backstabbing traitors and High Fae who believe they are so much better than everyone else. Although their numbers have dwindled to near extinction, they still think they are the masters of this world. Your grandmother may be a good queen to her people, but she is known for her ruthlessness and cunning mind, not to mention her vast powers. I would not be so eager to go to Elfi if I were you.”

I nodded, trying to assimilate all he had told me about the High Fae and my grandmother’s kingdom. Why was he trying to put me off going to Elfi, a place where everyone else wanted me to go? I was not sure what to believe anymore. But I knew I would never forget the story he had told me of the ruthless fae-warrior who burned a whole castle and its inhabitants to the ground. An involuntary shiver darted down my spine; I hoped I would never have to meet the dreaded Prince of the Night Court when I went to Elfi.

On the last day of our journey, Brandon turned to me in the carriage. “I hope you don’t find this too forward, Aurora. I would love to hear your story. I’ve heard bits and pieces—mostly rumors that have been spreading since people realized you were still alive. I want to hear what actually happened.”

I smiled at Brandon. He was sweet, and he did seem like a good friend who wanted to help. Still, there was something about him that disturbed me. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. I realized I had to be on my guard with everyone I met from now on. I had learned my lesson, and I was more careful with what I revealed and to whom. I proceeded to tell him my story, leaving out big chunks of it, of course. I couldn’t tell him about the Book of Abraxas and the keys, or about the Dagger and my mother.

Brandon listened intently and cursed the Blackwaters under his breath at the very mention of Damien’s name. “The Blackwaters can never be trusted. They are snakes, all of them, each one worse than the next.”

I nodded. “I learned the hard way.” I told him about Damien’s betrayal. I had been such a fool, thinking they couldn’t possibly be so bad, that they were not truly evil. But I was so wrong.

I wrapped my cloak tighter around me. Brandon had given me a warm green one lined with fur. It was very snug, but it was getting colder by the day; even inside the coach my fingers were frozen. I hid my hands under my cloak to try to keep them warm. “How can the king pardon them after their treachery?”

“It does seem strange.” Brandon leaned over to close the carriage window, which was ajar and letting in the chill. “But Devon Blackwater—Damien’s father—is the king’s cousin, his father’s sister’s son. They are family after all, and next in line to the throne if anything happens to Rafael.”

“But surely the king will come to his senses soon, once Prince Rafael returns and tells him what actually happened.”

“I’m not so sure,” said Brandon, crossing his arms. “I wouldn’t underestimate the Blackwaters.”

“That’s what Rafe always says.”

“So it’s Rafe now, is it?” said Brandon with an amused chuckle. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. I suspect Prince Rafael has made another conquest.”

I sat up straighter and tried to look indignant. “What do you mean?” I knew what he meant, but I felt so stupid when he said it. “We are friends, that’s all.”

“I meant no disrespect, Aurora, but I can see clearly that you are more than friends with the prince. A man does not leave his kingdom and family to go running after a girl if he doesn’t have strong feelings for her. I’ve never

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