As soon as the door closed, I threw off the sheets, pacing around my room as I heard my mother walk down the hall back to her own room. I was lucky enough that Valaine’s magic didn’t wear off until I had reached the palace, and I was able to slip inside just as the last traces of her illusion faded. Even so, I had been careful—using my eyes to trick one of the servants into escorting me back to my room without drawing suspicion. I had even feigned exhaustion, burrowing under the sheets the moment I heard my mother return so she wouldn’t insist on checking me over. If she had, she would have noticed the scales.

  The itching had only gotten worse. I clenched my hands at my sides, resisting the urge to scratch at my shoulder where the dark, gleaming scales still lingered beneath my shirt. My body felt foreign, like an unfamiliar landscape shifting beneath my skin, and no matter how many deep breaths I took, I couldn’t shake the restless energy coiling through me. They were just as annoying as they had been in my first life, and I knew from experience that scratching them would only make them spread. The last thing I needed was to wake up tomorrow with half my back covered in scales.

  I exhaled sharply, closing my eyes as I tried to steady myself. Tritetia had told me she couldn’t fully control her own transformations yet, that her changes happened sporadically. I had assumed mine would follow the same pattern as before, and that would allow me to prepare for them, but perhaps I was being naive. After all, if my changes were linked to my emotions like Tritetia suggested, it would only make sense they would happen differently this time. I wasn’t the same naive child I had once been.

  “Horns would have been better,” I muttered, adjusting the earmuffs over my ears. Not being able to control my hearing was far more frustrating than a scratch from the whip would have been, and I rubbed at my temples, doing my best to push down my irritation. I wasn’t a stranger to discomfort—I had survived far worse in my previous life—but the scales were a problem. Not just because of the itching, but because I had no idea when they would fade.

  I did my best to try and calm down, focusing on letting go of my annoyance and frustration. If they had manifested in response to me being injured, it was likely my heightened state that was causing them to remain. But no matter how many deep breaths I took, I couldn’t fully relax, my mind racing and my shoulders tense with frustration. The uncertainty gnawed at me, an irritating reminder that no matter how much knowledge I had carried over from my first life, there were still things I didn’t understand—still things that could change.

  Grinding my teeth, I turned sharply on my heel, striding toward the door. I had been waiting for my mother to sleep so I could sneak into the bath and try to wash the irritation away on my own. In my past life, I had found that soaking in hot water helped dull the sensation, though I had never been able to make the scales disappear completely. But this time, I had no choice—I had to make them vanish before my mother saw them.

  The palace was quiet as I stepped into the corridor, the soft glow of lanterns flickering against the polished floors. I moved carefully, my steps light, making sure to keep my ears tuned for any approaching footsteps. The path to the bath wasn’t far, and with luck, I could get there and back before anyone even realized I was missing.

  I was halfway down the corridor when I turned a corner and walked straight into a solid figure. A strong hand steadied me before I could fall but the movement cause the shirt to rub against the scales. Without thinking, I reached back and scratched at them, stopping as soon as I felt them spread. Cautiously, I looked up and found myself face-to-face with Caspian.

  His eyes flickered down to my shoulder where I had instinctively scratched at the scales, his gaze narrowing slightly before he lifted his eyes back to mine. I forced my expression into something neutral, but I knew it was already too late. I could feel thqt they had spread up my neck, and even if they were barely visible, there was no chance Caspian of all people wouldn’t notice.

  Without a word, his hand moved to my wrist and I was forced to follow as he led me down the hall. His grip wasn’t harsh, but it was firm, giving me no chance to pull away without making a scene. I swallowed down my irritation, forcing myself to stay calm even as my skin continued to itch beneath my shirt. I had been caught, and I didn’t know what Caspian intended to do about it.

  I expected him to take me straight to Isadora, but instead, he turned down a quieter wing of the palace, one I hadn’t yet explored. The air was cooler here, the lanterns dimmer, casting long shadows against the stone walls. He finally stopped in front of a small door, pushing it open before stepping inside. Without any other choice, I followed, and he closed the door behind us.

  The room was simple, lacking the extravagant decor of the rest of the palace. A wooden table and a few chairs sat near the window, and shelves lined the walls, filled with books and small trinkets. There was a fireplace, though it remained unlit, and a thick, woven rug covered most of the floor. It felt… lived in, unlike the more formal areas of the palace.

  Caspian turned to face me, crossing his arms. “Show me.”

  I hesitated, considering my options. Lying would be pointless—he had already seen enough to know something was wrong. Slowly, I reached up and pulled the collar of my shirt aside, exposing the dark, shimmering scales that now covered more of my shoulder and stretched up toward my neck. Caspian’s gaze darkened, but he didn’t look surprised. If anything, he seemed resigned, as if he had been expecting this. He turned away from me, walking deeper into the room as he motioned for me to remove the shirt.

  “When did they appear?” Caspian asked, his voice calm but firm. I paused, fidgeting in my lap as I considered lying, but decided not to. It was better to tell the truth before the inevitable rumor did it for me.

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  “Valaine… wanted to sneak out to the festival, so I went with her,” I admitted, my voice quiet. Caspian continued doing whatever he was doing behind me, but I heard his sigh of frustration even through the earmuffs. “She got accused of stealing and was going to be whipped. I stepped in.”

  “At least you’re honest,” was Caspian’s only reply and I resisted the desire to turn and see the expression on his face. I wasn’t sure what I had expected from him but his tone remained even, lacking the sharp reprimand I thought would come. He was annoyed, that much was obvious, but not in the way I had anticipated. Instead, he stepped up behind me, pressing something warm and damp against my shoulder before I could react.

  I flinched at the unexpected sensation, my muscles tensing instinctively before realizing it wasn’t painful. The heat seeped into my skin, soothing the irritated area almost instantly. I exhaled slowly, my body relaxing as the itching dulled beneath the damp cloth. The warmth was comforting, grounding in a way I hadn’t expected, and as the moments passed, I could feel the weight of the scales lightening. The rough texture against my skin softened, and though I couldn’t see it, I could tell they were fading.

  “It… stopped,” I whispered, not bothering to hide my surprise but Caspian didn’t answer immediately. He remained focused, pressing the cloth firmly against my shoulder, methodically working his way across the area where the scales had spread. His touch was clinical, efficient, as if he had done this before. That thought made my stomach twist, a nagging suspicion settling in the back of my mind. “How?”

  Caspian’s movements hesitated for a moment before he continued, and if I hadn’t been a Draconid, I doubted I would have noticed it. The question clearly bothered him, and I caught the slight shift in his posture, the brief flicker of something almost melancholic in his expression. It was subtle, but it was there—an emotion he quickly buried beneath his usual calm exterior.

  “Does it matter?”

  “I…” I found myself stumped, unable to voice my curiosity. Like usual, Caspian had managed to shut me down without saying much and I found it frustrating. He was good at that—keeping things measured, keeping himself unreadable. Even now, as he pulled the cloth away, his face remained impassive, betraying nothing of whatever thoughts lingered beneath the surface. I turned to watch as he dipped the cloth back into the water before wringing it out, his movements methodical, deliberate. The itch was nearly gone and I didn’t flinch as he pressed the hot towel to my shoulder again.

  It was then I realized that for the cloth to feel hot to me, it had to be nearly scalding for a human. Yet Caspian had put his hands in the water and was moving the towel as if it was barely warm. How could he–

  “Like you, I’m not completely human either,” Caspian’s voice nearly made me jump, and I turned to face him fully, searching his expression for any hint of deception. His gaze remained steady, unreadable as always, but there was something else in it now—something quieter, more guarded.

  “Not… completely human?” I echoed, the words heavy on my tongue. It was the first time he had ever admitted anything about himself, the first time he had given me even the smallest glimpse into who he truly was.

  Caspian didn’t elaborate. He simply folded the cloth, setting it aside as he straightened, his posture composed but strangely distant. “It’s best if you don’t ask more than that.”

  I frowned, not liking that answer at all. I wanted to push, to demand an explanation, but I held my tongue. Caspian wasn’t the type to reveal anything he didn’t want to, and pressing him would likely get me nowhere. But now, a new thought gnawed at the edges of my mind—if he wasn’t fully human, then what was he and did it have something to do with how he killed both Kapral and me?

  I glanced down at my shoulder, running my fingers experimentally over the skin where the scales had once been. It was smooth again, as if they had never been there at all. Caspian knew exactly how to get rid of my scales, something I had never learned in my first life.

  Caspian must have noticed my lingering hesitation because he exhaled softly, leaning against the table. “If you’re struggling with the changes, I can help you… to a point. If you are a Draconid, eventually you’ll outgrow what I can help you with.”

  I could tell he was making the offer with the same respect he always showed me. Not quite the kindness of a father, but the distant respect of a mentor. I hesitated, my fingers curling against my palm as I considered his words.

  “You… won’t tell my ma?”

  “If you tell me, I have no reason to. She’s supposed to tell me and Isa the things you try to hide,” he answered bluntly, and I frowned, not bothering to hide my annoyed look. It made sense, but I still hated it. “You’re not wrong to be wary about people finding out, but you can’t hide forever, even if you want to.”

  Something about the way he said it unsettled me. I could hear the weight behind his words, the quiet understanding of someone who had been through something similar. It made me want to ask more questions, to push past the wall he kept between us, but I knew he wouldn’t give me anything more than he already had. Caspian rarely said more than necessary, and even when he did speak, his words were carefully chosen, calculated in a way that made it clear he wasn’t a man who let himself be known as.

  I ran a hand over my shoulder again, tracing the place where my scales had been. The itching was gone, the discomfort erased as if it had never existed. If Caspian could help me figure out how to control my body, how to suppress my changes until I was ready, then it didn’t matter if I trusted him or not. It was an advantage, one I needed.

  “…Fine,” I muttered, lifting my eyes back to his. “But I don’t want my ma to know.”

  Caspian studied me for a moment before nodding. “As long as you don’t do anything reckless, I won’t bring her into it.”

  That was the best I was going to get, and I knew it. I exhaled slowly, forcing my shoulders to relax as I reached for my shirt. I could feel Caspian watching me as I pulled it back on, but he didn’t say anything, just waited as I adjusted the collar, making sure there was no sign of what had happened.

  Once I was dressed, he motioned toward the door. “Go back to your room before someone sees you wandering.”

  I didn’t need to be told twice. I slipped past him, stepping back into the dimly lit corridor, but I hesitated just before closing the door behind me. I turned back slightly, watching as Caspian leaned against the table, his gaze distant as he absently folded the damp cloth he had used on me. There was something strange about the way he held it, his fingers pressing into the fabric like it was something fragile, something important.

  I had no idea what he was thinking, but I didn’t ask. Instead, I turned away, making my way back to my room as silently as I could.