Rielle’s shoulders ached; her nerves felt as though they’d been sliced open and left hanging, frayed. She could think of nothing but the haven of her rooms and the fresh cinnamon cake Evyline had promised would be waiting on her bedside table.

But at least now, with the shadow trial in a mere two days’ time, the plan that had been brewing in the back of her mind had solidified.

She pulled the archive doors shut behind her, Evyline and two others of her guard flanking her, then turned—and froze.

Ludivine sat in the hallway across from the archives, on an iron-footed settee fringed with fine dark tassels. Her golden hair fell down her back in waves. The gray gown she wore shimmered beneath a field of elaborate burgundy, dark-blue, and russet embroidery: Sauvillier colors.

Rielle could think of nothing to greet her with except “Oh.”

Ludivine stood, a small smile on her face, and held out her hand. “Walk with me, Rielle.”

“I don’t want to.”

Ludivine took Rielle’s hand and tucked it through the crook of her arm. “I insist.”

Rielle glanced back at Evyline, whose hands rested on her sword.

Evyline nodded grimly. She and the other guards would, of course, stay near.

So Rielle took a deep breath and walked with Ludivine downstairs, through the quiet, dark hallways of the House of Night, until emerging into the central chapel. Dozens of worshippers had gathered throughout the room to pray—at the rims of black marble fountains, on floor cushions and prayer benches. Some knelt at the feet of Saint Tameryn’s statue, which stood at the heart of the room. Daggers in hand, she looked up through the open rafters at the deepening violet sky.

At their entrance, everyone in the crowded chapel looked up from their prayers.

The silence was deafening. The whispers were worse.

Rielle planted her heels, determined to walk no farther. “Lu, please don’t do this to me.”

“Oh, come now,” Ludivine murmured. “We’re just going for a walk. What’s the harm in that?”

So Rielle allowed Ludivine to lead her on through the room. At the feet of Saint Tameryn, Rielle and Ludivine knelt, kissed their fingers, touched the napes of their necks. Ludivine murmured greetings to everyone they passed. Rielle tried to do the same, tried to smile, but her words sounded strangled, and her smile felt like it had been fixed to her face with nails.

Once outside the House of Night, Rielle could no longer contain her frustration.

“Are you going to say nothing to me?” she whispered, as Ludivine guided them through one of the outer temple courtyards. Whistblooms, their pollen glowing a powdery white to match the stars, had begun to open along the paved path. “Will we parade about the city in awkward silence until I faint from the stress? Is that to be my punishment?”

“Calm yourself and act ordinary,” said Ludivine under her breath. Then, louder: “Good evening, Lord Talan, Lady Esmeé. Aren’t the whistblooms lovely this time of year?”

The courtiers in question bowed their heads, their eyes darting back and forth between Rielle and Ludivine as they murmured brief greetings and glided on through the foliage. Once a few paces away, Rielle heard their furious whispers begin.

Heat crawled up the back of her neck.

“Just a little farther,” said Ludivine softly, but it wasn’t until they’d passed through the outer courtyards of each of the seven temples that Ludivine finally turned them off the temple roads and onto a narrow side street.

Rielle felt weak with relief once they passed into the shadows of the apartment buildings crowding overhead.

“And that wasn’t punishment?” She wiped her face with her sleeve, her hand shaking.

“No,” said Ludivine calmly, leading Rielle down the tidy cobbled road. Patches of soft torchlight from brackets in the walls lit the way. The first Grand Magister of the Pyre had, centuries earlier, designed the torches in the temple district to light on their own at nightfall. “If you’d stop panicking for a moment, you would see I’m trying to help you. And please, put up your hood.”

“Help me?”

“We saw hundreds of people just now,” Ludivine said, raising both their hoods to cover their hair. “More importantly, they saw us. They saw two dear friends, arm in arm, on a leisurely stroll through the gardens. Just as we might have done on any night. Even if seeing us together quells only a fraction of the gossip racing through the city right now, it will be helpful to you, to Audric, and to me.”

Ludivine turned them down a set of narrow steps that led to a lower neighborhood. They kept their hoods up and their faces down, avoiding eye contact with passersby. Evyline and her guard followed close behind.

“I don’t know if my father will ever quite recover from what he saw,” Ludivine muttered, “but I can at least show my support for you, as publicly and as often as I can.”

“Why are you doing this?” Rielle watched her feet descend the steps through a film of tears. “You should hate me.”

Ludivine blew out an impatient breath. “Rielle, look at me.” She stopped them at a quiet landing where the staircase turned sharply right and took both Rielle’s hands in her own. “Look.”

When Rielle met Ludivine’s calm gaze, the terrible twist of pain in her chest robbed her of breath. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Please, forgive me.”

“Answer me this: Do you think I love Audric?”

Rielle blinked, caught off guard. “What? I…”

“Of course I do. We’re cousins and dear friends, and I’ve known him all my life. He’s my family. But do I love him like you do? Of course not.”

Rielle’s mouth dropped open. “I… Lu, what are you talking about?”

“And I know Audric feels the same about me. Do I wish you both had come to me, so we could discuss all of this like civilized people, instead of you rolling about half naked in the gardens for everyone to see? Yes, I very much do.”

Rielle would surely die, right there on the stairs. “Lu, I’m so sorry, really. I don’t know what came over us.”

“Of course you do. You’re in love with him, and he’s in love with you, and you’ve been desperate to kiss each other for years now. It was only a matter of time. Do you know how exhausting it’s been to sit back and watch the two of you dance around each other?”

“He isn’t…” Would the shocks never end? “We’re not…”

“Oh, please. It couldn’t be more obvious than if you rolled around half naked in the gardens, actually. Oh. Wait.”