Nobody said anything.
Aveline stood in the middle of the corridor with Seraphina's black glove in her hand.
Her fingers had gone cold.
She looked at Lennox.
Then at Alaric.
Then back at Lennox.
"My mother was afraid of the king?"
Lennox nodded.
"I think she was."
Aveline gave a short laugh.
It wasn't because anything was funny.
"You think?"
"I wasn't there."
"You just said you were."
"I was twelve."
"So?"
"So I wasn't exactly taking notes."
Aveline stared at him.
Lennox sighed.
"Fair point."
She started walking.
Alaric followed.
"Aveline."
"Don't."
He stopped.
She kept walking.
"I've spent my entire life thinking my parents were dead. Then yesterday I find out my mother might be alive. Today I find out she was hiding from the king."
She turned around.
"And now you're telling me you don't actually know why."
"No."
"Wonderful."
She started walking again.
Lennox looked at Alaric.
"She does that when she's angry."
"What?"
"Walks like she's trying to escape the floor."
Alaric glanced at Aveline.
"She is angry."
"I noticed."
Aveline stopped without turning around.
"I can still hear you."
Lennox immediately looked innocent.
"I said nothing."
"You said plenty."
"I've been accused of many things."
"Lennox."
"Yes?"
"Please shut up."
"Gladly."
He lasted three seconds.
"Actually, I have one more thing—"
"Lennox."
"Right."
He shut his mouth.
For once.
They went to the old chapel.
Nobody suggested it.
They simply ended up there.
The chapel had been abandoned for years. Dust sat on the benches, and one of the candles had been left crooked in its holder, as if somebody had started to tidy the place and then got bored.
Aveline walked slowly toward the wall.
"This is where I found the passage."
Alaric looked around.
"Are you sure?"
"No. I usually wander into secret tunnels by accident."
He glanced at her.
She shrugged.
"You asked."
Lennox snorted.
Alaric ignored him.
Aveline ran her fingers over the stones.
Something felt wrong.
Not wrong in a frightening way.
Just… different.
She pushed one stone.
Nothing.
Another.
Still nothing.
She leaned against the wall.
A section moved.
Aveline stumbled backward.
"Well."
Alaric stared at the opening.
"You did that on purpose?"
"Yes."
"You just leaned on it."
"I leaned very intelligently."
Lennox nodded.
"I've always said she's gifted."
Aveline pointed at him.
"Don't start."
The opening was narrow.
Alaric went first.
Aveline followed.
Lennox came last, muttering about how nobody ever asked whether he wanted to enter suspicious underground passages.
The tunnel was cramped and dark.
Aveline had to turn sideways in one section to get through.
"This place is horrible."
"You're the one who wanted answers," Alaric whispered.
"I wanted answers. I didn't ask for back pain."
"You're not even old."
"Thank you for reminding me."
They continued.
Then they heard it.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
A pause.
Tap.
Tap.
Everyone stopped.
Lennox whispered, "Please tell me that's a pipe."
Aveline looked at him.
"You don't believe that."
"No."
"Good."
Another two taps.
Alaric moved ahead.
At the end of the passage was a wooden door.
He put his hand on the handle.
Aveline caught his sleeve.
"Wait."
He looked at her.
"What?"
"I don't know."
She looked at the door.
"Just wait."
For a moment, neither moved.
Then something scraped on the other side.
Alaric opened the door.
The room beyond was small.
There was a table.
Two chairs.
A bed.
A dying fire.
And a woman sitting beside it.
Aveline stopped.
The woman looked up.
Neither spoke.
Then the woman said, very quietly,
"Aveline?"
Aveline's mouth went dry.
She had imagined this moment so many times.
As a child, she used to imagine her mother appearing at the orphanage door.
Sometimes she imagined being angry.
Sometimes she imagined running into her arms.
Once, when she was thirteen and particularly miserable, she imagined throwing a bucket of water at her.
She had never imagined this.
A woman sitting beside a fire in a hidden room.
Older.
Tired.
Alive.
Aveline took a step.
The woman stood.
"Aveline."
"How do you know my name?"
The woman's face crumpled.
"Because I'm your mother."
Aveline stared at her.
No.
That couldn't be enough.
A name.
A claim.
After all these years?
"You're Elara?"
The woman nodded.
"Yes."
Aveline looked at her hands.
There was a tiny scar near the base of her thumb.
Something stirred in Aveline's memory.
A hand.
A song.
Someone humming while braiding her hair.
A woman's voice saying, Don't eat that. You'll get sick.
She didn't know whether the memory was real.
That was the worst part.
She wanted it to be.
She also wanted proof.
"Why didn't you come for me?"
Elara's lips parted.
No answer came.
Aveline laughed once.
It hurt.
"Right."
Elara stepped toward her.
Aveline stepped back.
The woman stopped.
"I'm sorry."
"You keep saying that."
"I know."
"Does it help?"
"No."
"Good."
Alaric watched Aveline carefully.
He wanted to touch her.
He didn't.
Not yet.
Elara looked at him.
"And you are?"
"Alaric."
Her expression changed.
"The prince."
"Yes."
Elara looked at Aveline.
"You trust him?"
Aveline didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
Alaric glanced at her.
Something in his face softened.
Elara noticed.
She gave him a tired little smile.
"Then I suppose I should trust him too."
A loud crash came from somewhere beyond the door.
Everyone turned.
Lennox whispered, "That sounded expensive."
Alaric drew his sword.
Aveline looked at him.
"Do you think we're in danger?"
"No."
Another crash.
He reconsidered.
"Possibly."
"Very reassuring."
Elara hurried to the wall.
"There's another way out."
She pulled aside a curtain.
A narrow staircase appeared.
Lennox stared.
"Why does this palace have so many secret passages?"
"Because your family enjoys hiding things," Aveline said.
Lennox looked offended.
"That is a serious accusation."
"Is it wrong?"
He thought about it.
"Not particularly."
They began climbing.
Halfway up, Aveline stopped.
She looked back at Elara.
"I waited for you."
Elara's face changed.
"I know."
"I used to think you were dead."
"I know."
"I hated you."
Elara nodded.
"You had every right."
Aveline's eyes filled.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do now."
"You don't have to know."
Elara reached for her.
This time Aveline allowed it.
Her mother's hand touched her cheek.
It was warm.
That was the first thing Aveline noticed.
Warm.
Real.
She leaned into the touch before she could stop herself.
Elara's eyes filled with tears.
"I wanted to come."
"Then why didn't you?"
Elara looked toward the stairs.
"Because every time I got close, someone died."
Aveline pulled away.
"Who?"
Elara hesitated.
Before she could answer, footsteps sounded below.
"Go," she whispered.
"I'm not leaving you."
"You have to."
"No."
"Aveline."
"No."
Alaric stepped between them.
"We'll come back."
Elara looked at him.
"Promise?"
He nodded.
"I promise."
Aveline looked at him.
"You're making promises again."
He gave her a tired smile.
"I know."
They reached an abandoned bedroom above the chapel.
Lennox shut the door.
Everyone stood there listening.
Nothing.
No footsteps.
No shouting.
Lennox leaned against the wall.
"Well."
Aveline looked at him.
"Well what?"
"I've had better evenings."
"You were the one who wanted to help."
"I didn't know your family came with secret tunnels and assassins."
Aveline raised an eyebrow.
"You knew me for three days before you learned I was an orphan."
"Exactly. Very misleading."
She almost laughed.
Alaric looked at her.
She caught him watching.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're staring."
"I know."
"Why?"
He shrugged.
"I was thinking."
"Dangerous."
"I'll stop."
"No."
He smiled.
She looked away.
Lennox made a disgusted noise.
"Oh, for heaven's sake."
Aveline turned.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're smiling."
"I have teeth. It happens."
She threw a dusty pillow at him.
It hit him directly in the face.
Lennox stared at her.
"You've declared war."
"Good."
He grabbed another pillow.
Alaric sighed.
"Don't."
Lennox threw it anyway.
Alaric caught it.
For several seconds, everyone stared at him.
Then he threw it back.
Lennox ducked.
The pillow hit Aveline.
Silence.
Aveline slowly looked at Alaric.
He looked horrified.
"I didn't mean—"
She picked up the pillow.
"Oh, you did."
He backed away.
"Aveline."
She threw it.
He ducked.
Lennox burst out laughing.
For the next minute, the secret room became completely ridiculous.
Nobody mentioned dead fathers.
Nobody mentioned the king.
Nobody mentioned missing mothers.
They threw pillows.
Lennox cheated.
Aveline accused him of cheating.
He denied it while holding two pillows behind his back.
Alaric laughed so hard he had to sit down.
Then the laughter faded.
And reality came back.
Aveline looked at Alaric.
"Do you ever think our lives were easier before all this?"
"No."
"Really?"
"No."
He looked at her.
"I was a terrible person before all this."
Aveline smiled.
"You still are sometimes."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Later, when Lennox finally left to check the corridor, Aveline and Alaric remained alone.
They sat on the floor beside the old bed.
Neither seemed in a hurry to move.
Aveline picked at a loose thread on her sleeve.
"I thought finding my mother would make me happy."
Alaric leaned against the bed.
"Maybe you will be."
"Maybe."
She looked down.
"Just not tonight."
"That's okay."
She gave him a sideways look.
"Careful."
"Sorry."
He smiled.
Aveline rested her head against his shoulder.
He went still for half a second.
Then relaxed.
"I don't know what happens now," she whispered.
"Neither do I."
"You're supposed to know."
"I'm a prince. Not a fortune teller."
She laughed quietly.
He turned his head toward her.
She looked up.
Neither spoke.
Alaric lifted a hand and gently moved a strand of hair away from her face.
Aveline didn't pull away.
"You're tired," he said.
"So are you."
"I've had worse nights."
"Liar."
"Fine."
She smiled.
He leaned closer.
Slowly.
Enough time for her to change her mind.
She didn't.
Their lips met.
It was a soft kiss at first.
A little awkward.
A little uncertain.
Aveline smiled against his mouth.
He pulled back.
"What?"
"You're smiling."
"So are you."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"Prove it."
She kissed him again.
This time neither of them laughed.
His hand settled at her waist, careful and warm.
Aveline rested her hand against his chest.
For a while, they simply stayed there.
When they separated, Aveline rested her forehead against his.
"I hate that I like you."
He smiled.
"I hate that I like you too."
"You're supposed to say something romantic."
"I thought that was romantic."
"It wasn't."
"I'll work on it."
She laughed.
Then she kissed him once more, quickly.
"That's better."
"I'm learning."
"Slowly."
"Very slowly."
She leaned against him again.
For a few minutes, neither spoke.
It was peaceful.
Almost normal.
Then Alaric's eyes caught something on the table.
A folded piece of paper.
He reached for it.
"Aveline."
She sat up.
"What?"
He handed it to her.
Her name was written across the front.
She frowned.
"I didn't put this here."
"Open it."
She unfolded the paper.
Two sentences.
That's all.
Your mother is lying to you.
Aveline read it again.
Then the second line.
Ask her who really killed your father.
She stopped.
Alaric took the paper from her.
His face changed.
"What?"
Aveline stared at him.
"My father."
She shook her head.
"No."
"What?"
"She said he was dead."
"She did."
"She never said how."
Alaric looked toward the door.
Aveline stood.
"So did she kill him?"
"I don't know."
"Then who did?"
Neither of them had an answer.
From somewhere below them came the sound of a door opening.
Then footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Coming toward the room.
Alaric stood and reached for his sword.
Aveline grabbed his arm.
"Wait."
The footsteps stopped outside.
Aveline looked at the note again.
Then at the door.
Someone knocked.
Once.
Twice.
Then a voice came through the wood.
"Aveline?"
She knew that voice.
Her mother's.
But Elara was supposed to be downstairs.
Aveline looked at Alaric.
He looked just as confused.
The voice came again.
"Aveline, open the door."
Aveline didn't move.
Because the woman who had just spoken sounded exactly like her mother.
And somehow, that frightened her more than anything else that night.