Getting out of the dungeons was the easy part.

Once we reached the hallway above, Jourdon led us through the hall, carefully pausing at each turn, watching for guards. It was only moments until someone noticed Pierre had been gone too long.

Chaos erupted.

Jourdon hastily led into a room beside a stairwell. It was dark and damp, neglected down in the dungeons. The skeleton of a bed frame and a broken mirror were the only things inside. We waited with held breaths as the guards passed.

Sabine was just barely holding herself up on her own. We couldn't go fast, but we made up for it in silence as we pressed against the wall. We listened as guards moved just outside the door.

"I'll check in on this room here."

"You mean the old Baby chamber?" There was a frown in the voice. "Nah, no one would be hiding in there—well at least no one that knew any better. Only ghosts have business in that room."

The Superior's voice stiffened, trying to maintain an edge of authority. "Well, someone needs to check. Now off with you."

There was a scuffle as footsteps dispersed, one set taking to the stairs beside us, another continuing down the hall outside. I shot a glance to Jourdon., His eyes met mine in the darkness. He shook his head. We pressed closer to the wall, waiting.

Outside there was a faint whisper of movement. The door creaked open beside us, leaving us in the door's shadow. It stopped once it was partway open, leaving us just outside of the light that spilled inside.

"Ghosts," the guard murmured. He sniffed a short laugh, but it lacked the confidence he had mustered a few moments ago with his men. "Fool's legends. Just stories."

He lingered a moment. I held my breath, waiting for him to enter. Jourdon didn't move an inch. Even Sabine managed to slow her breathing. Then the shadow beyond the door shifted and footsteps moved away, the door falling back to cast the room in darkness. Once the guard was gone, Jourdon moved across the bedroom. It was peculiar that they would have one down here.

"You think it's safe to go out there yet?" I whispered.

Jourdon shook his head, his jaw set from the strain of helping Sabine walk.

"The way out is in here."

I stared at him, dumbfounded. It was dark in the room, but I saw no other doors other than the one I stood beside. In answer, Jourdon approached a cracked mirror leaning against the wall, shifting it aside.

Another, smaller, doorway sat behind it.

I followed him, shooting a careful glance over my shoulder at the door out to the hall, but it was silent now. The deeper I moved into the room, the colder it got. Skin prickled along my neck. Jourdon pushed on the door and after a moment of resistance, it gave. It had no latch or handle on the inside.

He let out a relieved sigh. "That's good. It's unlocked."

I stood next to Jourdon as he carefully helped Sabine up to the door. Only darkness stared back at me.

"What is this place?"

Jourdon hefted Sabine up, his brows creasing. She grunted in pain. "It's the room of one of King Aurel's mistresses. He was known to have many."

I nodded. Aurel's conquests were only rivaled by the current king's. Like King Gilroy, the previous king, better known as his given name, married a queen who died young along with his first child. He had many mistresses, and the son that eventually succeeded him—King Laurent-Henri, was said to be the result of one of his many affairs.

That still didn't explain why this room was down in the dungeons. Jourdon knew my next question before I asked.

His eyes settled on me, a grim set to his jaw. "It was said she was Roserian. That's all I know. But this passage leads to the underbelly of the palace—and the king's own personal chambers."

The passage beyond was pitch black. We had no way to light the few sconces that lined the walls, not that I was certain any of them would have lit, the air cool and damp. It was quiet, nothing but the distant trickle of water pooling on stone. Even the rats didn't seem to linger.

Jourdon led us through them carefully, our pace slowing as he concentrated on maneuvering in the dark while supporting Sabine's stumbling weight. I held onto the back of his coat so that I had an anchor through the darkness. We were silent, Sabine's breaths rasping as she labored to move.

It was a Gift from the Angels that she could move at all.

Jourdon had risked so much to ensure my escape, possibly putting himself in danger. If I made it out of this alive, I would owe him.

"Why did you have the book—that Aurelian book on your shelf. It was annotated...and I thought it was all your writing," I whispered into the darkness. Even with all evidence proving Jourdon being trustworthy, I couldn't help but wonder about that one single, incriminating fact that I had clung to.

Jourdon stumbled slightly on the uneven ground, letting out a hissed curse.

"You mean the old Vidame's book? I was researching it. I have long known the Aurelians have been operating under the surface. I wanted to better understand them—and that meant reading what they had to say." He paused. "Is that why you...?"

I gripped his shirt tighter. "It's what made me start to doubt things. I wanted to ask you, but then Sabine went to a meeting and they were discussing how the prince couldn't be there and I just..." My voice trailed off, the evidence now feeling loose and silly on my tongue.

"I was just afraid. Of everything. And then I thought you wanted me dead. I didn't know Sabine's...true profession when we first arrived. Ever since I arrived here I couldn't help but only see enemies everywhere, you included."

"It's true," Sabine whispered. Her voice was gravelly and so quiet I could barely hear her. "I should have made sure. Maybe then..." She trailed off. But she didn't need to finish.

Maybe then Pierre could have been brought to justice. Maybe then we would have all made it out before all this.

Jourdon didn't reply for a long time. Our footsteps echoed, the faint sound of water dripping somewhere intermingling with the steady beat of my heart. Eventually, he let out a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry that I was not with you. There were rumors of cult activity in the east, in a popular port that connects to Perle. But after everything, I think it was just a ruse to get me out of Roche. It turned out to be a waste of time. Any evidence that the Aurelians had been there was years old. It was clearly because it was amassing here right under my nose...my own brother involved. I should have done better by you. I knew such threats existed; I just did not think they would come to you so soon."

I shook my head even though he couldn't see me. "There is no blame for you in all of this. I was a fool, and I have learned that now. When I return to Rosailles I hope to do better."

"I think you will, Ophelia." There was the hint of a smile in his voice, some of the edge he had carried upon seeing me in the dungeon melting away. "I believe we will find a way to maintain peace between our countries once we find a way past all of this. You will be fundamental in securing it—no need to force you into a marriage you don't want."

I started to protest, ready to tell Jourdon that that wasn't true—that I had wanted it. But that was a lie. Jourdon might have proved to be an honest man, but I had never wanted the marriage. No matter how I convinced myself, all I did was build up a fantasy around it, and try to paint it as something it wasn't.

The truth was, even if Jourdon had been as I hoped: attentive, affectionate, and already halfway in love with me when I arrived, I wasn't sure things would have gone differently. I couldn't help but think I still would have ended up right here, escaping these dungeons. Our countries are on the brink of war.

I had never really wanted to rule Garnette. There was only one throne I ever dream of, and It wasn't here. I didn't want to just be a wife to the King.

I wanted to be a Queen.

It was one thing Pierre had gotten right. It was also something that could never be mine. Even if deep down, I believed it should be. Perhaps this hateful, jealous part of me wasn't so different from Pierre after all.

I itched to ask Jourdon about Pierre. Why was he a member of the Aurelian cult?  Though I didn't doubt everything he said was a lie... something felt off. Like him leading them in itself was the biggest lie of all. But I bit my tongue. Speaking of Pierre... thinking of Pierre. All it did was bring back the memory of him slumped in the cell, surrounded by blood.

I tasted bile in the back of my throat. What Pierre had intended... he couldn't do it now. I had made sure of that. My emotions were mixed up and confusing. It was easier to just push them aside and ignore them. Even if it left me with nothing to focus on but the voices of the Angels following us.

Silence fell back over us as we moved deeper into the tunnel. No matter where I looked, in front of me or behind, all I saw was darkness. Something grazed my cheek, a caress of soft feathers. Ice licked up my spine. I stifled a gasp, hoping neither Jourdon nor Sabine noticed.

The deeper we went, the louder the Angel's grew. So loud I could make out one-word in their whispers, repeated over and over.

"Queen."