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sent me to live with the Ogdens. Wilha walked away from her own life and expected me to pick up the pieces. Now Andrei has ordered me back to Galandria. How many lives will the Andewyns take from me? How much more must I give them before I can work myself free from their grasp?
    In the morning, after the guard shows Lord Royce into my room, he doesn’t waste time. “What have you decided?”
    I think of Wilha in the dress shop, telling me she’s happy. “She doesn’t want to be found,” I say, mostly to myself.
    “Your brother wants her. Even if you do not disclose her location, men will still be sent to search for her. But if you cooperate with me, I will spare you from Andrei.”
    “Spare me? Is he really so terrible?”
    “I do not think you will want to find out. And once I have you safely hidden away in Allegria, I have a proposition to share with you.”
    He isn’t asking for a lot, I tell myself. Just a few words. Just one sentence.
    If I go back to the palace, I have little hope of receiving a warm welcome. But the same can’t be said for Wilha. She’s the famous Masked Princess, and the sister Andrei grew up with.
    I close my eyes. “There’s an inn near the docks called the Sleeping Dragon—she rents a room above it.”
    By the time I open my eyes, Lord Royce is gone. I wonder if, along with giving up Wilha’s location, I haven’t also just surrendered a piece of my soul.

Chapter 7
    Wilha
    “Y our countenance is all wrong,” Marko says as we practice in the alley.
    “What do you mean?” I lower my sword and stamp my feet to stay warm. Though spring is finally making an appearance, the nights are still chilly.
    “It’s obvious from the look on your face your heart isn’t in it tonight. By revealing yourself like that you send a clear message to your opponent that you are easily beatable.”
    I nod and blink rapidly, trying to clear away thoughts of James and how his face fell when I said I would not have dinner with him again tonight. As Elara is not currently appearing on the balcony—exactly what illness has befallen her?—I had to tell him I was meeting a few girls from the dress shop for some late-night sewing to catch up on orders. Somehow, this lie felt worse than all the others.
    “You will be easily disarmed, if you go into a fight with such a distracted mind,” Marko says. “So perhaps we should practice some other moves tonight—clearly you’ll be needing them.”
    “Now then,” he says after I’ve laid aside my sword. “If you are disarmed or you are attacked while walking down the street, your objective is to first free yourself—and then run for help. Turn around.”
    I do, and Marko wraps his arms around me. “If he grabs you from behind, you will want to throw him off-balance. The key is to act quickly before he can secure his position. You could step backward and stomp on his toes.”
    I practice for a minute, leaning back into him before stomping on his boots.
    “Good,” Marko says, with his arms still around me. “Now if he tries to turn you toward him”—he spins me, until we’re face-to-face—“then you will want to deliver a kick to his private—”
    He breaks off at a shuffling sound behind us. “Who’s there?”
    Silence.
    “Find out if someone is back there,” he commands.
    “Me?” I say, blinking.
    “Yes. Take up your weapon and arm yourself.” He gives me a pointed look. “Perhaps facing a real threat will cause your mind not to wander. If you require assistance, I will be here.”
    Quietly, I pick up my sword and creep down the alley, wishing the night wasn’t so dark. My hand grips the hilt so tightly the metal digs into my skin. Blade raised, I swing around the corner.
    No one is there.
    But in the slick of mud covering the ground is the unmistakable impression of footprints leading away into the street.
    “No one’s there,” I say, coming back to Marko. “But someone was definitely watching us.”
    “Probably a beggar trying to