I closed the door to my room as the maid bowed, letting out the breath I had been holding. The other maids had been begging my mother to go into town with them to experience the summer festival, and while she had tried to refuse, I encouraged her to go. My mother had given up on having friends in my previous life to take care of me, and I didn’t want her to be so lonely. Even once I prevented her death, I wouldn’t be able to stay near her once I became a dragon. She needed humans she could have close, humans who could be there for her when I couldn’t.

  I slowly released the door, thinking about the girl I had sent away. She had offered to look after me to ease my mother’s worry, but as soon as the women left, I used my eyes to tell her to leave me alone and I would stay in my room. I felt a twinge of guilt as I recalled the way her face had gone slack, her compliance immediate and absolute. The power I had once wielded without hesitation now left a bitter taste in my mouth. I wasn’t using it to hurt anyone, wasn’t manipulating people the way Illythia had manipulated me. But the unease lingered, a whisper in the back of my mind that I couldn’t quite shake.

  I turned away from the door, exhaling sharply as I crossed the room and perched on the edge of my bed. The summer festival would keep my mother occupied for hours, and though I had no real reason to believe she was in danger, the idea of her being out in the city without me unsettled me. There was too much I didn’t know; too many unknown variables, too many pieces on the board that I still knew too little about.

  Before I could get too lost in my thoughts, the door to my room slammed open with an obnoxious bang, making me jolt. I barely had time to register the intrusion before Valaine barreled in, her hair bouncing wildly around her shoulders.

  “Cyran! We’re going to the festival!” she declared, her blue eyes gleaming with excitement. Tritetia followed after her, slipping in more quietly, though she gave me a small, knowing glance as she adjusted the sleeves of her dress. I had no doubt she had tried to talk Valaine out of this but had inevitably been dragged along, just as I was about to be.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, doing my best to suppress my sigh. “Valaine, you know we can’t leave the palace until we’re thirteen.”

  Valaine huffed, crossing her arms as she tilted her chin up defiantly. “You mean we aren’t supposed to leave the palace. Besides, if no one can recognize us, it doesn’t matter!”

  She lifted a hand, and before I could stop her, a shimmer of energy rippled through the air. A soft, glowing mist surrounded her for a brief moment, and when it cleared, I was no longer staring at Princess Valaine of Naera. Instead, a girl with dark brown hair, olive skin, and warm brown eyes stood in her place, her features unfamiliar and unremarkable. Even her dress had changed, the fine silks replaced by simple, muted fabric, the kind any commoner might wear. I blinked, caught off guard despite myself.

  “There! See?” Valaine beamed, clearly proud of herself as she twirled in place. “No one will ever know.”

  “Valaine, Isadora said for you to stop using magic…” Tritetia said softly, but Valaine was quick to wave her off, clearly unimpressed by the reminder.

  “Isa says a lot of things, but she’s not here right now, is she?” Valaine grinned mischievously before turning back to me, hands on her hips. “You can’t tell me you don’t want to go. It’ll be fun! You’ve never been to a festival in the capital before, right?”

  I hesitated, already knowing what my answer should be; wandering into the city was a risk I had no reason to take. I didn’t have much interest in experiencing a festival and given Valaine’s penchant for getting into trouble, there was a high chance we’d get caught if we weren’t careful. But the thought of my mother out there, surrounded by crowds, vulnerable in a way she never should be—it gnawed at me, an itch I couldn’t ignore.

  “Fine,” I muttered, watching as Valaine lit up with excitement. “But if we get caught, I’m blaming you.”

  Valaine giggled, clearly unfazed by the threat. “Deal! Now, hold still.”

  I stiffened as she lifted her hands, the same shimmering energy flowing from her fingers as she turned her magic on me. It was a strange sensation, like warm water being poured over my skin, and I forced myself to stay still as the magic settled around me. My hair darkened, my features subtly shifting until I no longer looked like myself. My too-bright green eyes dimmed into a dull hazel, my pale complexion deepening into something more sun-kissed. Even my clothes changed, my fine, tailor-made outfit replaced with a simple tunic and trousers.

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  Tritetia remained quiet as Valaine turned to her next, the magic dulling the unnatural shimmer of her sea-green hair, softening the striking blue of her eyes into something more human. When it was done, she looked at me, her expression carefully unreadable, before adjusting the hem of her new tunic.

  “I still think this is a bad idea,” she muttered, but she followed us anyway as Valaine clapped her hands together in excitement.

  “Okay! Now, everyone hold on to me,” she instructed, extending her hands. I hesitated before gripping her wrist, Tritetia doing the same on the other side. I barely had time to process the sensation—a sudden, stomach-churning lurch, as if I was being yanked through the air—before we landed on solid ground again. I stumbled, catching myself just in time as the noise of the city roared around us. The streets were bustling with people, the sounds of laughter, music, and distant shouting filling the air. The scent of roasted meats and sweet pastries wafted through the warm summer breeze, and colorful banners fluttered between buildings, draping the city in bright festival cheer.

  Valaine laughed, grabbing both our wrists as she pulled us into the festival crowds. “Come on! We have a whole day to explore!”

  I sighed, adjusting my stance as I glanced around, already scanning the crowd for any sign of my mother. But before I could focus, a blur of movement caught my eye, and I heard a startled gasp. A group of older boys had been walking past, their loud voices cutting through the festival noise, and one of them had slammed straight into Tritetia, sending her stumbling backward. She hit the cobblestone hard, her expression flickering with brief surprise before shifting into quiet resignation. I stepped forward immediately, reaching out to help her up, but I froze when I caught sight of the boy who had bumped into her.

  Yssac.

  He was dressed more plainly than the last time I saw him, clearly enjoying a day out with his friends instead of doing errands for his father. He didn’t even cast us a second glance as he kept walking, too absorbed in his conversation to acknowledge Tritetia at all. My fingers curled into a fist, but I forced my expression to remain neutral as I helped her to her feet. She muttered a quiet thanks, brushing dust from her borrowed clothes before glancing warily at the group of boys moving away from us.

  “—Father’s still going on about it. Keeps saying I should take things more seriously, but I don’t see why I should care. He’s the one with the plan, not me.” Yssac shrugged, and I firmly held Tritetia’s hand as we walked after them, pretending to look for Valaine who had run off without us. This was a chance I couldn’t pass up. “I run his errands in the capital, but that’s just because if I don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  One of the boys snorted. “That’s because he’s obsessed. Every time I hear my parents talking about him, it’s about how he still won’t shut up about the throne.”

  Yssac groaned dramatically, ruffling his hair with both hands. “You don’t even know. Every time I get home, it’s the same speech over and over. ‘Yssac, you must prepare for your rightful place! Yssac, you must understand the importance of bloodlines!’ It’s exhausting.”

  “Yeah, but didn’t Caspian insult you when–”

  “Hey, I didn’t do anything!” Yssac snapped and I saw some of the familiar petulance flicker across his face. “Caspian’s the one who humiliated me in front of everyone. I don’t care if the princess wants to take some damn commoners for new servants, but my father is obsessed with finding out why.”

  One of the other boys laughed, clapping Yssac on the back. “Just tell me there was nothing to learn. All the rumors have died down anyway and they’re likely just some low ranking servants cleaning the kitchen or something.”

  I tightened my grip on Tritetia’s wrist, my mind racing as I absorbed every word. It was strange to hear Yssac speak about his father like this, as if he wasn’t completely invested in the Marquess’s plans. In my first life, by the time I met him, he had been just as obsessed as his father—arrogant, power-hungry, cruel. But this Yssac? He clearly did not want or care about the throne, at least not yet. His father would find a way to sink his claws in, to twist his son’s apathy into something useful. If I could stop that…

  I exhaled softly, tugging Tritetia along as we kept pace with the group, careful not to draw attention to ourselves. I needed to hear more, needed to know how much the Marquess actually understood about me and my mother. But before I could listen further, a commotion broke out near one of the market stalls, pulling my focus. A sharp, angry voice rang out over the festival noise, and I turned just in time to see a burly merchant shoving someone backward, her face contorted with rage.

  “You little thief!” the woman bellowed, her thick fingers tightening around the wrist of a smaller figure. “You think you can steal from me and just run off?!”

  The crowd around us began to slow, festival-goers turning their heads to watch as the situation escalated. My stomach dropped as I recognized the figure the merchant was grabbing—Valaine. Even through her disguise, the way she struggled, the way her voice rose in indignant protest, was undeniably her.

  “I didn’t steal anything!” she yelled, twisting in the woman’s grip, but the merchant wasn’t listening. She tossed the girl to the ground and I released Tritetia as I started to run forward. The merchant raised her free hand, her thick fingers wrapped around the handle of a short leather whip, and I knew exactly what was about to happen.

  Twack!

  Pain lanced across my back, a sharp, stinging heat spreading through my skin as the leather snapped against me instead of her. But I already knew it wasn’t the sight that made the crowd grow silent, made the merchant stumble back.

  It was the glittering black scales that shined under my torn shirt.