“Rainwater from above,” she explained. “It collects in the channels and gathers in wells throughout the castle.”

Clever, I thought as we walked past the great hall and down a flight of stairs to a smaller hall with a long table stretching nearly half its length.

“This is the dining hall,” Ebb said. “You may take meals in your room if you prefer, unless the king or prince requests your presence, of course.”

She gestured for me to sit next to the chair at the foot of the table, presumably where the prince sat, though I had the room to myself at the moment. Servants brought me six different courses. Some, like the olives and grapes we’d had in Varenia, were familiar and delicious, but others, like the cubes of bloody red meat on a silver platter, made my stomach turn. There was enough food for several families here, and I hated wasting it, but I couldn’t eat this much food in a week.

“Ebb,” I whispered when the server had left. She hurried toward me.

“Is everything all right?”

“This afternoon we need to go over a few things. Like how to address people, and what the three different sizes of forks are used for. And what are those little round white things that jiggled when the man set them down?”

“Quail eggs, milady.”

“Yes, well, I need to know how to eat them. If they’re any good.”

She smiled. “We will begin your lessons this afternoon.”

“Oh, and I was wondering when I’ll be able to meet the queen. I would love to speak with her.”

The door at the far end of the hall slammed closed with a bang, and Ebb and I looked up to see a young man in black walking toward us. Ebb dropped into a curtsy before I’d even had a chance to stand.

“You must be Zadie,” the man said. His skin was the whitest I’d ever seen, even paler than Ebb’s, and his straight blond hair, which was pulled back into a ponytail at his nape, had more of a silver cast to it than Ebb’s did. His eyes were a steely gray under elegantly arched brows. I couldn’t stop myself from staring.

Ebb cleared her throat lightly.

“Y-yes,” I stammered. “And you are?”

I thought I heard Ebb groan a bit next to me.

“I am Prince Ceren,” he said with a chuckle. “Your future husband. And I’m afraid it will be impossible for you to meet the queen, my dear.”

This was the prince? I could have imagined the exact opposite of Talin and still wouldn’t have come close. “Why is that?” I asked, my voice trembling like the little white quail eggs.

“Because, my lady,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. “The queen is dead.”

A nervous laugh slipped out of me, and I turned to Ebb, sure that the prince was joking. But Ebb only gave an apologetic shake of her head. I faced the prince again. “I’m sorry for my confusion. I was told everything would be explained to me once I arrived. Is your mother the queen?”

“She was. She died in childbirth.” His voice betrayed no hint of emotion.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Why hadn’t Ebb explained all of this to me? I didn’t even know if Talin’s mother had been married to King Xyrus. “And the last Varenian girl sent here?” I asked, hoping that sounded diplomatic enough.

“My father’s second wife is also dead. It doesn’t go too well for queens around here, I’m sorry to say.”

I wanted Ebb to tell me he was making some kind of sick joke, but she seemed as cowed by this man’s presence as I felt. I forced myself to stand and dropped into a curtsy. “Your Highness.”

I almost recoiled when he reached for my hand. His fingers were long and as white as a ray’s belly. He wore a dark metal ring on his right hand, set with a small red stone. I shivered as he brushed his lips across the back of my hand. There was something unnatural about him. His features were handsome, like his brother’s: a straight nose, a strong jaw, and a sensuous mouth. But his smile was cold, and his pale eyes revealed no feelings at all.

I pulled my hand away and tried to smile at him. He helped lower me back into my seat and settled into the chair next to me. “How did you sleep, my lady? Was the room to your liking? Was the bed large enough?”

My cheeks colored when I realized how foolish I’d been to wonder why one person needed a bed so big. “Yes, thank you.”

“Good. I thought I might show you around the castle today, seeing as my dear father won’t be making it out of bed himself.”

My eyes darted to his. “You must have better things to do than give a tour of the castle,” I said softly.

“Nonsense. It’s the least I can do after you’ve come so far to be my bride.”

I couldn’t help squirming in my seat. I suspected he knew he was making me uncomfortable, and he was enjoying it.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Seventeen.”

“Ah yes, precisely the age of Queen Talia when she came twenty years ago. I was only a babe at the time, so I have no recollection of it. But she is a part of many of my childhood memories. As is my brother, Talin. He was born just a year after they were married. Father didn’t waste any time.” His smirk held none of the amused charm of his brother’s. Beneath my gown, my skin crawled.

“When did Queen Talia die? No one in Varenia has heard this news.” Or if they had, they hadn’t bothered to tell me.

“It was four years ago now, I believe. When Talin was just fifteen. He was made commander of the guard not long after. At my request.”

Something about the lack of emotion in his voice told me Ceren hadn’t done this because it would be best for his brother, though perhaps it was. I couldn’t imagine Talin in this place. “Can I ask how she died?”

“Murder.”

I gasped and clapped a hand to my mouth. He’d said the word so casually, as if it meant nothing, the death of a woman who must have been like a mother to him in some way.

“It was a servant,” Ceren continued. “The queen’s blood was found all over her room. The carpets were drenched with it, though Talia’s body was never found. We suspect it was hidden away in one of the many abandoned chambers in the castle. The servant was beheaded the next day.”

My meal began to climb its way up my throat. Everything I’d learned since coming here had been far worse than I’d imagined, but to discover that the last Varenian woman sent to Ilara had been murdered frightened me in a way I couldn’t describe. As children, Zadie and I had spent hours pretending to be the queen of Ilara, making crowns out of seaflowers and draping ourselves in Mother’s dresses, a game she’d actually encouraged. She would lift our chins with her fingertips and help us practice our curtsies. They’d been lessons, I realized now, not games. I should have paid better attention.