idveil won the match, I ate three candy apples and half a plate of nachos, and on the way back to the castle I found a rock shaped like a bear that I thought intriguing enough to stuff into my pocket and take with me.

Despite Lenore’s efforts, it turned out to be a lovely day. And it remained such until we returned home and I entered my bedroom. As I was putting the interestingly shaped rock on my fireplace mantle, I saw something on my bedspread.

It was a note. When I unfolded it, I discovered it was the same list Lenore had given me, which I’d discarded back at the arena. I scowled at the thing, scrunched it up again, and tossed it in the trash. Alas, the document did not take the hint. Over the next several days the list reappeared when I was least expecting it. I found it in my left boot in the morning, within the pages of a library book on another day, and even stuffed in my sandwich at lunch one afternoon. Evidently Lenore had written the list on magic paper, which meant it could not be destroyed or lost until it served its purpose.

As the days ticked on, serve its purpose it did. The more I looked at the list, the more I was forced to realize that my decision to disregard it had been rash. I had reacted with emotion, not logic on the day of the Twenty-Three Skidd match. Lenore filled me with such spite, and that spite made me want to do the exact opposite of whatever she wanted. Now that I had the chance to think about things without being blinded by rage, my mind had changed. My concern over the commons rebellion outweighed my dislike for the Godmother Supreme. And my concern for the implications such a rebellion might have on my family and kingdom outmatched my own personal vendettas.

I started to pay closer attention to the people on Lenore’s list. When I passed them in the corridors or on the grounds, I watched them more carefully. In doing so, I was disappointed and troubled when I did, in fact, witness peculiar behavior. Sometimes this could be as simple as one of them passing a note in the hallways or loitering in some random room in the castle. On other occasions, the behavior manifested in more disconcerting manners. The first example of this occurred on a Wednesday while I was reading in the arboretum.

It was in the death of the afternoon. I was sitting on a high branch of a ficus tree with a book in my hand. I used to dread climbing. However, our adventure to find the Author had been jam-packed with all sorts of challenges, climbing included, so I was trying to work past my weakness to be better prepared for next time.

As I sat there, two palace staff members, Daphne Reigns (one of my ladies-in-waiting) and Aggie Black, slipped into the arboretum. Both girls were on Lenore’s watch list. They didn’t see me and, thinking that they were alone, conversed openly.

“Did you receive word from her?” Aggie whispered.

I looked down. The two girls were nervous—glancing around to make sure no one was coming. Even from up here I thought Aggie seemed sweaty. There was dirt and twigs on her apron, so I assumed she’d been running around outside. This seemed a bit suspicious, as she was normally assigned to work in the kitchen.

“Yes,” Daphne replied as she tucked a strand of strawberry-blonde hair behind one ear and checked over her shoulder. “I received a message this morning. She says our master is still securing members of the King’s Guard. He needs a bit longer so we can fully count on them to cooperate the day that phase two commences.”

Aggie nodded. “And what about the princess? Her presence here was never intended. Have they taken that into account?”

“Yes. He insists that she is to remain unharmed, but our lady says not to concern ourselves with that technicality. In fact, between you and me, she has instructed us with ensuring that—”

I heard footsteps. The girls stopped talking and scurried out of the arboretum. I stayed in my position for a couple of minutes until I was sure they were gone. When all was silent again, I snapped my book shut, scampered down the tree, and took off toward my room, Daphne and Aggie’s words ringing in my ears.

It couldn’t be, I insisted to myself as I rode the lift. It just couldn’t be.

While I had elected to keep my eyes peeled for the people on Lenore’s list, the one person I’d refused to spy on was my brother. Pietro was no traitor. He was a prince and a protagonist, the trusted leader of the King’s Guard, and my brother. There was absolutely no reason to doubt him or his loyalty . . . until I had overheard Aggie and Daphne’s conversation.

Desperate to talk to someone objective, I bolted the door to my bedroom, pulled out my Mark Two, and called Liza. When she answered, I described what Lenore had told me at the Twenty-Three Skidd match and what had happened with Daphne and Aggie. I hoped that my magical mentor could give me some information about Pietro’s protagonist book that would reassure me of his future actions and fate, and calm my doubts about him. Regrettably, what Liza offered ended up being the opposite of reassuring.

“What do you mean, he doesn’t have a book?” I exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, Crisa. But it’s the truth,” Liza said. “Not all royals are born with books. You learned that last semester. And anyway, it is my understanding that Pietro is not even really royalty. He is adopted, is he not?”

“Yes,” I begrudgingly admitted. “Technically he is not royal born; he is common born. The Scribes did not unveil a protagonist book when he was a baby like they do with all royal children. But later when he was five, the Scribes came to my parents with a protagonist book. They said the Author chose him as a common protagonist and he could attend Lord Channing’s.”

“The Scribes clearly had a book forged for him, Crisa,” Liza replied. “I realize it must be upsetting, but you shouldn’t be so surprised. After all, SJ doesn’t have a book.”

I groaned and began pacing the room. “First my best friend, then Pietro. Next you’re going to tell me that Alex doesn’t have a book either.”

Liza didn’t respond, which made me stop.

“Liza?”

A pained expression appeared on her face. Then she nodded.

“Are you kidding me?”

“I am afraid not,” she sighed.

“Why didn’t you say something before?”

“For this exact reason,” she explained. “I knew how you’d react. Furthermore, you told me how knowledge of not having a book created friction with SJ. I didn’t want to cause you any more distress, especially knowing what’s coming, and knowing that soon enough you will—”

“Stop,” I said, cutting her off angrily. “I was serious when I said I don’t want to know what you’ve seen of my fate, Liza. It’s bad enough having to see the future on my own—witness the horrors awaiting others. I don’t want any more unnatural awareness influencing my path. You can think that decision cowardly or unwise if you like, but I don’t care.

“If there really is so much riding on me and my choices, I can’t afford to be weighed down by worrying about the future. I have to make decisions without being afraid. As for my brothers . . .” I paused and took a breath. “I’m sorry I yelled at you for not telling me sooner. You were right to keep this from me.”

“Perhaps I was before,” Liza replied steadily. “But the reason I told you about Pietro now was because, based on what you’ve told me, I fear you may need to reconsider how you regard him. My sister is a lot of things, Crisa, but foolish is not one of them. If she suspects your brother, then I think maybe it would be best if you kept your mind open to the idea that the people in your life may not be who you think they are. Pietro could very well be a part of the commons rebellion.”

I felt a knot form in my throat. “And you and Lenore could very well be totally wrong,” I argued. “Maybe this whole threat isn’t even as severe as Lenore thinks.” I was trying to convince myself as much as her. “I mean, I know what’s been happening in Century City is bad. But our realm is huge and the commons rebellion activities have only been occurring in that one part. When Lenore and I talked she made it sound like the whole realm could be in danger, just like she implied its been threatened by rebellions in the past. But she was clearly exaggerating on that front. I’ve never heard of a single rebellion in Book posing a danger to our entire realm. If such a thing existed, we would know.”

“You mean just like you used to know that ‘The Author’ controlled your lives and that your fate was out of your control?”

My eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

“Crisa,” Liza continued, “until recently you have lived in a bubble that the Fairy Godmothers and realm higher-ups created for you. Everything you knew, in essence, was a lie. What makes you think that there isn’t more about the realm that they’ve kept from you to maintain order?”

I stared hard at her reflection.

“There is so much that people don’t know, Crisa,” Liza sighed, “and you’ve only scratched the surface. These mutterings of unrest and rebellion my sister discussed with you are one such example, the likes of which I can assure you are very real. I’ve been around for close to two centuries, so I know what Lena is talking about. Moreover, I am privy to the details of her work that she keeps from the greater populace.

“There have been many attempts at rebellion over the years by commons, Crisa—attempts to overthrow Godmothers, and royals, and protagonist selection. But each time these conflicts grow big enough to call attention to themselves, Lena and the other realm leaders put a stop to them. That is the only reason you don’t know about their existence.

“But if Lena has come to you with this information—and is asking for your help—that can only mean that things are different this time. Which is why I must advise you to believe her, and to take the matter seriously even where Pietro is concerned. The commons rebellion may be limited to Century City right now, but it could spread in the blink of an eye. For all you know, it already has and is just waiting to catch fire.”

“Alex, have you noticed anything weird going on with Pietro lately?” I asked as I leaned against the wall of the gymnasium.

My brother looked up from the bench press and furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted all too truthfully. “I’m just asking.”

“Well,” Alex puffed as he continued his workout. “Nothing comes to mind. He started dating some girl who’s a real handful. I met her about a month ago. She wears a lot of leather and she chewed my ear off about the latest bill passed by the Midveil Parliament. Beyond that, though, I can’t think of anything out of the ordinary. He spends most of his time with the King’s Guard.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I know.”

“And . . . twenty!” Alex announced as he finished his last set.

As he re-racked the weights, I detected something out of place. Or rather, something missing from its place.

“Alex, where are your wristbands?” I asked.

For years, Alex had worn several bands around his left wrist. They were mementos that he never took off. One was a leather bracelet that he and his friends had commissioned when a mate of theirs had been killed in a carriage accident years ago. It bore the boy’s name and the date of his passing. Alex and the others wore the bands as a forever reminder of their lost friend.

Another band was a simple knotted piece of red rope that had been taken from the garland placed upon Alex’s head the first year he’d won Midveil’s annual sword fighting tournament—the day everyone in the kingdom first began respecting him as their future king.

Finally, the third wristband Alex usually wore was a thin gold one inscribed with our family’s motto. It had been mine, but I’d given it to him when he’d first gone to Lord Channing’s, hoping that as he went off into the big, exciting world and learned to be a hero, he wouldn’t forget me—his small, unremarkable sister. He promised that he never would. And true to his word, every summer when he came home from school he made time to hang out with me, mentor me, and teach me sword skills. We’d spent so much time together over the years that I’d come to think of him as not just my brother, but my close friend.

It became our tradition to take turns wearing the sentimental gold wristband. At the end of summer before classes started again one of us would pass the keepsake on to the other to be worn until the next year.

I had given it to him last September before I’d returned to school, so he should have been wearing it now. The fact that he wasn’t, and that the two other bands were nowhere to be seen, instantly threw me. Had he not been wearing them this whole time? I thought back. I couldn’t remember if I’d seen them on his wrist since coming back. I’d just assumed they were there.

“I got rid of them,” Alex replied.

“Got rid of them?” I exclaimed.

“Relax,” he said. “I didn’t throw them out. I put them away. They’re in my room, so you can have your bracelet back if you want.”

“I don’t understand,” I stammered. “Why don’t you want to wear them anymore? You’ve always worn them. I thought they mattered to you.”

“They do,” he said. “But it’s like you said, I’ve always worn them. And, well, I got tired of carrying around the weight.”

“It’s not like they’re shackles, Alex,” I protested. “They’re memories. They’re your past.”

“Same thing.” He shrugged as he reached for his water bottle. “Especially when you’re trying to look to the future. Trust me.”

When he finished chugging his water, he looked at me sadly. “You’re disappointed, aren’t you?”

“I guess I’m confused,” I replied. “I want to know what happened with you. What changed?”

“What happened was that I grew up, Crisa,” Alex said as he grabbed his stuff and headed for the door. “Maybe it’s time you do the same.”

I stood in the gym alone for a few minutes before I made my way into the hall and decided to go outside to see Lucky. I stopped in my tracks when I heard Pietro’s voice. Cautiously, I poked my head around the corner.

Pietro was standing at the end of the corridor talking with Aggie Black. The arched ceilings cast shadows over the pair as they conversed.

“Did you find out?” Pietro asked Aggie, glancing behind him to make sure no one was following.

I held my breath as Aggie responded.

“Yes,” she replied. “And I’ll make sure she gets the message. But, your highness, I still don’t see why you cannot do this. You have much more access. Wouldn’t it be simpler for you to simply explain the truth to her yourself?”

“I don’t want her getting involved past what’s required,” Pietro responded. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I want her protected. Furthermore, until I’m certain of who can and cannot be trusted around here, I don’t want to send up any unnecessary red flags. I already feel like I’m being watched, that they suspect I know something. So until I have what we need, I cannot afford to take any chances with showing my hand.”

Footsteps echoed in the distance, halting Pietro’s conversation with the girl.

“Go,” he said. “Make your move when you’re certain the conditions are right.”

I heard two pairs of shoes in motion. The daintier pair moving farther away had to be Aggie’s. Which meant that the ones rapidly coming my way were Pietro’s.

I stood up straight. He’d be next to me in seconds. There was no time to retreat so I cantered forward, “accidentally” running into him as he rounded the corner.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” I said as I moved around him.

“Crisa. Hey!” he said. “What’s up?”

“Um, nothing.” I replied. “What’s up with you?”

“Same old, same old. Where’ve you been? We hung out almost every day the week you came back when you were teaching me to fly your dragon. But since our last lesson I feel like the only time I see you is at dinner.”

I thought quickly. I didn’t want him to know I’d been avoiding him since Lenore planted those suspicions in my head, which I inadvertently had.

“I’ve been busy.” I said. “Take home schoolwork, you know? Lady Agnue didn’t exactly send me away for a vacation.”

“Fair enough,” my brother replied. “Still, it’d be cool to hang out with my little sis while she’s home. You want to hit the combat room later and do some sparring? Maybe after dinner?”

“Um, you know, I actually pulled a muscle earlier so . . . maybe some other time?”

“Definitely,” he responded.

A few members of the King’s Guard came into view down the hall, nodding to Pietro. I noticed his expression darken ever so slightly.

“I gotta go,” he said. “You sure you’re okay? You look kind of pale.”

“I’m fine. That, um, muscle I pulled really hurts,” I replied. “Now go on. You have better things to do than worry about me. Those guys are waiting for you, aren’t they?”

He smiled and patted me on the head. “Yeah, but give me a shout if you ever need me. In the meantime, whatever you’re doing, be careful. One misstep and you could really get hurt.”

“Yeah,” I said. “You’re preaching to the choir.”

Pretty much every part of my body pulsed with exhaustion.

I’d been pushing myself with my magic training every day, but today I’d increased my efforts in order to better distract myself from the brewing doubts I had about Pietro and my anger toward Alex.

Honestly, I didn’t know which of my brothers was rattling me more. My observations connecting Pietro to the commons rebellion weirded me out, but he was my brother. Adopted or not, he would not betray me or my parents or my kingdom. I knew him too well to believe that . . . at least without proof. Alex, meanwhile, was just annoying me. One minute he and I were best buds, the next he was cold and callous. The whole thing gave me emotional whiplash.

I thought on this as I made my way back to the castle through the stables. This was a mistake. I didn’t think twice about it at first, but as the smell of wood and hay filled my nose, dark memories ignited.

I tried to push the magic hunters to the rear of my mind, but I couldn’t keep them at bay. My body tensed as I remembered the feeling of being drugged by those Poppies, the heat of the fire, and the arrows flying so close to my skin.

Suddenly a horse in the stall to my right whinnied loudly and rose on his hind legs, his front hooves rising above me. Startled, I slipped and fell. My vision blurred for a second and my heart raced. I shut my eyes to drive the sensation away, but images of horses stampeding and wooden beams crashing down flashed through my mind. The smells of burnt wood, sweat, and ash seemed too real. They suffocated me as I remembered being flattened to the ground—lying helplessly with a hunter’s boot pressed into my back.

No.

I forced my eyes open and willed myself to look around at my surroundings for a reality check.

It’s just a horse.

This is just a stable.

And those are just memories.

I got up and dusted myself off. I hated being plagued by these fears. Maybe my mother was right. Maybe I did need to talk to someone. Opening up about my worries to Daniel had really helped in my previous trying times. Just because he had betrayed my trust didn’t mean everyone I let in would. It was only a matter of picking the right person.

I hurriedly exited the stables. Not feeling like going back to the castle anymore, I found my way to Lucky on the main lawn. He was enjoying his afternoon nap.

I lay on the grass beside him. It was about as close to a peaceful place as I could find around here. Or so I thought. The curse of an overactive mind was that it didn’t matter the exact setting; thoughts would follow you everywhere.

My brain simmered on the commons rebellion.

In all my years as a protagonist I had been unhappy with the way our realm was run. I didn’t like the Author deciding who I would be, putting my life on a single track without my having a say. But at least my track had been a blessed one, full of tiaras and gowns and castles. Commons didn’t have that.

I recalled a conversation Daniel and I had last semester. He asserted that antagonists were brave because they were commons who’d chosen to disregard the wishes of the Author and the realm’s higher-ups to be something more than basic ensemble characters. I’d disagreed with his statement, but he’d countered with, “Are you sure you don’t just feel that way because you’re a protagonist? You’ve never had to struggle and fight like a common. You don’t know what a desperate person—someone poor or pushed around—might do to feel important, let alone feed their families.”

It was true that the lives of main characters were much more regulated and controlled than the commons’. We had to go to specific schools, act a certain way, and learn certain skills so we could grow up to be certain people. The commons didn’t have to deal with that type of micromanagement. The drawback was that our realm’s higher-ups didn’t care about managing them at all. If commons had problems, they didn’t get Fairy Godmothers to fix them. If they desired an education, they couldn’t count on the government to provide one. If their lives were difficult, their needs would be at the bottom of the ambassadors’ docket—always underneath those of protagonists.

Given that, I could understand why discontent might grow over the years. These rebelling commons wanted a world where they weren’t treated like second-class citizens. They wanted to matter and have the right to be the main characters of their own stories. Now they were pushing back against people like Lena Lenore who stood in the way.

The words of the Fairy Godmother Supreme about the commons rebellion whispered at the corners of my mind. “They believe our realm’s division of power is unfair and wish to be on the same level as protagonists, treated as if they are just as important when it just isn’t so.”

Lenore’s statement expressed the views of those who controlled Book. So it was no wonder this was happening. If I were in the commons’ shoes, I would be ticked off. Being thought of that way would suck.

In retrospect this brewing commons rebellion had always only been a matter of time. After all—even with the good fortune of a privileged upbringing—I could only put up with the realm’s rules and the Author’s limitations for so long. After nearly seventeen years, I had been pushed too far and decided things needed to change. Hence my quest to find the Author. Now a faction of commons felt the same way and was fighting back. I could understand that. I could empathize with that. However, what I could not understand nor empathize with was people hurting others on their way to accomplishing this agenda.

There had been murders in Century City. People were missing. And Lenore said she and the higher-ups believed the next phase of the commons’ plan was to overthrow several kingdoms and eliminate their current rulers. Although I didn’t like Lenore and I didn’t like the way the realm was run, I did not endorse anything that would put innocent people at risk, let alone my family, my friends, and my friends’ families. I believed in change, but not like this.

“Crisa?”

I opened my eyes. A gingery-blonde head blocked the sunlight and spilled a shadow over me.

“Sooz.” I sat up and tried to get to my feet, but the tiredness I’d been feeling from Magic Exhaustion caused me to falter.

“Are you all right?” she reached out to help but I curtly brushed her hand away.

“Fine,” I snapped. “Just a bit dizzy.”

I patted Lucky on the side to wish him goodbye. He opened one golden eye and exhaled. I started to march away. Sooz followed.

“Can I help you with something?” I asked.

“I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Again, I’m fine,” I replied.

“Good. And, well, I also wanted to ask you a question.”

“Ask away,” I said without slowing down.

“Okay. Here it is then,” Sooz said slowly. “Crisa, have you been avoiding me?”

That made me stop. We’d reached a corridor running alongside the castle. It was held up on either side by tall, slender columns. The floor was tiled in various shades of blue glass that shined in the light.

I turned to meet Sooz’s gaze and studied her critically. Due to the fact that I had been avoiding her, I hadn’t really gotten a chance to see how she’d changed in the months that I’d been gone. It felt like I was looking at her for the first time in a while.

Her hair was long like it had been when I was much younger and she’d let me play with it to practice my braiding. It seemed she’d put on some weight, probably from spending too much time at a desk working through her breaks. The bags under her eyes were darker; she’d had more stress and less sleep.

Despite the external factors, the greatest difference in Sooz’s appearance came from the way she looked at me. We’d had an unofficial big sister/little sister relationship for years. When she used to look at me, her eyes had always been filled with kindness, understanding, and warmth. Now her eyes seemed harder. She gazed at me with hesitation, suspicion, and a touch of fear—the same way I looked at her.

“No,” I lied. “I haven’t been avoiding you. It’s a big castle. Other than at dinner, I don’t even see my own parents most of the time.”

“Yes, but square-footage aside, we both know that you don’t cross paths with your parents by your own design, not chance. Which again, is what makes me believe you are intentionally doing the same with me.”

“You’re making something out of nothing.” I shrugged as I resumed walking. “Why would I be avoiding you?”

“Maybe because you know what the other ambassadors and I have been doing to influence protagonist selection?”

I stopped again.

“Lenore told me that you and your friends found out,” she explained. “That you’ve known since the last Summit meeting but have been keeping it a secret.”

I’d been trying so hard every day to keep my anger toward Sooz bottled up, resisting the urge to express to her the many things that I wanted to. But her provocation was just the nudge I needed.

“Did Lenore also mention that the only reason we’re keeping it a secret is because she is blackmailing me?” I asked.

“Yes,” Sooz sighed, sort of remorsefully. “That was mentioned.”

I put my hands on my hips and the fury I’d been harboring lashed out like a cornered dog. “Then I guess the following should go without saying. Though—since I still can’t believe what a rotten traitor you are—I’ll say it anyway. You’re despicable, Susannah. Our kingdom trusts you. My family trusts you. I trusted you. How can you go along with what the head Fairy Godmothers and the other ambassadors are doing? Forging protagonist books for royals, destroying protagonist books to meet some stupid quota, helping Lenore with her agenda—it’s not right. You’re a coward for standing by all these years and letting it happen.”

“I know the amount of trust your family places in me,” Sooz replied fervently. “And it was in honor of that trust—the oath of service to them and to you—that I’ve done my duty. Your brothers and your best friend were born without books, Crisa. Had the ambassadors and I not rigged the system, they would have been cast as commons and seen as lepers in the royal community. Pietro already has a difficult enough time getting respect in noble circles what with his adoption. Can you imagine how he’d have been treated growing up if he’d just been a common?

“And consider SJ and Alex. They are both first in line for their thrones, but how secure would those positions be if not for the intervention of the ambassadors? Think about it. What kingdom would want a common as a ruler? None. Because while protagonists are something special—leaders, heroes, champions—commons are just that: common.

“So I ask you, Crisa, was it really so despicable to destroy three commons’ books in order to make room at the academies for SJ and your brothers? Was it really so cowardly to forge books for three of the people you care about most in the world when doing so saved them from a life of ridicule and persecution? And if given the choice, would you have done any different?”

I stared at Sooz. Since learning the truth about protagonist selection I’d never even considered that the ambassadors had been doing the right thing. They had no authority to mess with people’s fates. But having lived through the awful insecurity that SJ’s lack of a protagonist book caused, I wondered how convinced I was in regards to my answer to Sooz’s question. This was the well-being of my brothers and my best friend we were talking about. So if given the choice, would I really have done any differently?

My mind swirled with conflict for a moment. And then the storm cleared, and I saw things clearly.

Since we found out she didn’t have a book, I’d been telling SJ that she didn’t need one to be special. With or without one, she was an exemplary princess, a skilled potionist, and a brilliant inventor. I didn’t say this to make her feel better; they were truths that anyone could see.

Meanwhile, knowing I had a book—let alone discovering the serious nature of my prologue prophecy—hadn’t made me special. It’d gotten me noticed, sure, but what made me special was my character—my strengths, my weaknesses, my choices, my spirit. I didn’t need the validation of some higher power to tell me what those traits would allow me to amount to. I knew by my own accord. And SJ should’ve known the same.

Therefore, although I wanted the best for her, and Alex, and Pietro, I felt certain that if they hadn’t been selected as protagonists they would have still become the same people that they were today. Maybe their roads would have been harder. And maybe they would’ve had to prove themselves more regularly. But if they were the people I knew them to be, it wouldn’t have mattered. The world would have eventually seen them for what they were and what they were meant to be, heedless of the class they were born into. They would’ve been protagonists. Not because “the Author” or the realm’s higher-ups deemed them to be, but because their characters warranted it.

“You know what, Sooz,” I finally said. “I get where you’re coming from. My experience with SJ has shown me what kind of effect not having a protagonist book can have on a person’s self-esteem.”

“So you understand that what the other ambassadors and I are doing is for the best?” Sooz asked earnestly, a touch of hope in her voice. “You can forgive me?”

“I didn’t say that,” I replied. “I understand your reasons, but that doesn’t mean I think you’re right.”

Sooz crossed her arms and looked down on me with the intimidating glare she used when trying to close a deal with government officials. I was unfazed. I’d faced too many monsters to cower to one in a teal sweater and matching pumps.

I mirrored her stance. “I understand why you forged the books for Alex, Pietro, and SJ,” I said bluntly. “When those you care about are on the line even the most ethical people have trouble seeing straight. But that doesn’t change the fact that it is wrong and you’ve had over five years of service as an ambassador to realize that. Five years to realize that what you’re all doing is wrong.” I paused for a moment and sighed. “It took me five seconds, Sooz.”

A couple of my mother’s ladies-in-waiting came down the corridor then. They paused their conversation and bowed as they passed. When their footsteps had dissipated, I nodded to Sooz. “I should go,” I said. “You and I have nothing left to discuss.”

As I made to move past her, Susannah suddenly reached out and grabbed me by the wrist. I tried to shake her off; but she did not let go. She held onto me with a surprisingly tight grip.

“We do have one more thing left to discuss, Crisa. The matter of the list Lenore gave you.”

All the gentleness with which she’d been handling our conversation was gone. She was all business now, done wasting her time trying to get me on her side.

“You mean the list of people the two of you are accusing of treachery? Isn’t it a bit hypocritical for you to have input on such a thing?” I asked as I glowered at her.

“Hilarious,” Sooz scoffed. “Just tell me. Have you noticed anything peculiar about the people on the list or not?”

My rage had built up enough again to provoke me into wanting to say nothing just to spite her, but thankfully logic won out this round. Whether I liked it or not, the Godmother Supreme had been onto something that day in the shadows of the Twenty-Three Skidd stadium. There was something suspicious going on within the walls of Midveil Castle. If Lenore was right about the next phase of the commons rebellion involving overthrowing kingdoms and eliminating rulers, I had to do what I could to minimize the risk to my family. Even if that meant cooperating with the likes of her and Sooz.

“Daphne Reigns, Aggie Black, Donald Smith, Blaine Weldhouse, and John Coolson,” I said bitterly. “Those are the people on your list that I’ve noticed acting weird. If you and your wand-wielding boss are looking into people around the palace, I’d start with them.”

“And what about Pietro?” Sooz asked, squeezing my wrist tighter. “Our sources say he might be one of the main players in this, the one giving the orders.”

Ire surged through me and I vehemently shook off Sooz’s grip. “Well, your sources are wrong. He has nothing to do with this. And so help me, Sooz, if you or Lenore go anywhere near him, or tell anyone else your suspicions about his loyalties, you won’t have to worry about the commons starting a rebellion. I don’t care what either of you do to me, I’ll tell everyone the truth about protagonist selection and start a rebellion myself. Got it?”

I turned and stormed away.

“You’re letting your feelings for him cloud your judgment, Crisa,” she called. “If you were really as morally noble as you are pretending to be, you’d see the signs.”

I didn’t look at her. But as I continued down the corridor, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was right.