“I hope I didn’t wake you,” she says, though her words are crisp and perfunctory.

“You did,” I tell her, stepping out of the room into the hallway and closing the door behind me so as not to wake my Shadows. I’ll be back in bed before they can miss me.

“Apologies, then,” she says, though she doesn’t sound sorry at all. “I was just awake and thinking about how upset you must be after yesterday. I understand you and the Ojo were close.”

The Ojo. She means Hoa. I’m glad she doesn’t say her actual name—I don’t think I could stand hearing it right now, especially from the lips of someone who didn’t know her.

And you did? a voice whispers in my mind.

“I’ve known her most of my life,” I say, and that at least is the truth.

Coltania’s sympathetic expression falters at the blunt acknowledgment. “Well, I thought you might like some tea and a friend to talk to. Shall we take a walk so we don’t wake your advisors?”

I have friends to talk to, I think. Friends who aren’t trying to get something else out of me.

But I still need something from her. I need S?ren out of prison. So I force myself to take one of the mugs.

“That’s very kind. Thank you, Salla Coltania,” I say, following her down the hall toward the riser. “How are you and your brother faring? I’m sure you’re both quite shaken, all things considered.”

“It’s been difficult,” she admits. “We discussed following the Czar’s lead and leaving ourselves, but Marzen decided against it. He’s quite brave.”

The last thing I want is to hear her sing her brother’s praises again. I’m too exhausted and heartbroken to even pretend to care one whit about the Chancellor. Instead, I take a sip of the tea, wincing because it’s too hot and much too bitter. Even after I swallow it, the aftertaste remains. It reminds me of the way wood smells, but mixed with grass after a rainstorm and with an undercurrent I can’t put a name to. It might be the foulest thing I’ve ever tasted.

“I’m sorry,” Coltania says, seeing my expression. “I wasn’t sure which type you liked, so I just made you my favorite. It appears we don’t have the same taste.”

“It’s fine,” I say, even though it isn’t. She opens the door to the riser and I follow her inside, nodding toward the operator. “I’m used to drinking coffee, I suppose. The way we make it in Astrea is much sweeter. It’ll just take some getting used to.”

“Acquired tastes are usually the most delicious, once you actually acquire them,” she says. “The garden, please,” she adds to the operator. The door closes with a metallic clang and the operator begins to turn the crank. The riser starts its journey up.

I lift the cup to my lips again because it would be rude not to, but I only take a small, tight-lipped sip.

“Better?” she asks me.

“Better,” I lie. “Have there been any developments with the truth serum?”

“I’m afraid not,” she says, though again she doesn’t sound apologetic in the least. “With all the excitement yesterday, there was no time to work on it.”

Excitement. I resist the urge to hit her, but only barely.

“It’s more important to me than ever that S?ren is released from prison,” I say, trying to think up a lie that will appeal to her. “S?ren was very close with Ho…with the Ojo.” I can’t say Hoa’s name—it sticks in my throat.

“I’m sure he’ll be quite upset,” she agrees.

“Not only that. Do you know why the Kaiser kept her alive for as long as he did? Even after he left Goraki behind?”

“I’ve heard rumors. They say she was quite beautiful, once,” she says.

Once. The dismissive way she says it rankles me. It’s true that Hoa’s youth had left her, that she looked older than her years, that the Kaiser had left his mark on her in too many ways to count, but I think of how Hoa looked in the refugee camp and I think she was more beautiful than Coltania with her painted lips and feline grace.

“I don’t think the Kaiser is capable of love, but obsession is a whole other thing,” I say, forcing myself to continue. “When the Kaiser finds out she was killed instead of her son, he’ll be furious. It’s important that we settle this marriage business as soon as we can and leave before the Kaiser attacks Sta’Crivero. I know I alluded to it earlier, but now let me make myself quite plain: once S?ren is free, I will choose your brother as my husband and we—all of us—can get out of this place before the Kaiser arrives. I think that is in all of our best interests.”

Coltania considers this for a moment. “I couldn’t agree more,” she says before nodding at the cup still cradled in my hands. “You ought to finish your tea before it goes cold.”

I look down at the green liquid. The aftertaste from my first couple of sips still lingers in my mouth, like twigs and rust. This time, when I lift the cup to my lips again, I seal them against the bitter liquid.

“See? It’s growing on you, isn’t it?” Coltania asks with a smile.

The riser jerks to a stop, causing some of the tea to slosh over the rim of my cup. It falls to the floor of the riser, staining the cream-colored carpet an ill yellow. What I wouldn’t give for a cup of strong, sweet, spiced coffee instead.

“Come,” Coltania says, tugging my free arm and leading me out of the riser. “Some fresh air will do your heart good.”

* * *

—

The garden is deserted this time of night, which makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Danger aside, though, empty and dark, it feels straight out of a fever dream, full of smoky, subdued color and fragrances so overwhelming I feel drunk on them. It’s enough to make me dizzy. I grip my teacup tighter. There’s still half left and I don’t want to drink any more, but Coltania’s attention is so focused on me that I’m not sure I can refuse. She still holds S?ren’s fate in her hands. I meet her gaze and take another tight-lipped pretend sip.

“Delicious,” I lie, but that earns a smile from her.

“The flowers are beautiful in the moonlight, aren’t they?” she asks me as we walk down the path. Her fingers trail along the top of a bush full of white buds that almost seem to glow. “Most flowers are loveliest in sunlight, but a few thrive at night—like these. Bolenzas—it translates to ‘night blooms’ in Yoxian. There’s a natural compound that coats their petals and makes them glow like this. Isn’t it something?”

“It’s lovely,” I tell her, even though I don’t want to talk about flowers.

“Lovely,” she echoes. “But that same compound can be stripped from the petals and boiled to a concentrated liquid that can be lethal if ingested.”

She says the words casually enough, but they knock the breath from me. Pieces slide into place. A picture becomes clearer.

“You were never worried about your brother,” I say slowly. “Even when the Czar said another one of the suitors had been killed. You already knew who the target was.”

Coltania doesn’t deny it. She languidly blinks at me like she’s already bored of the conversation.

“Why, though?” I ask her. “Why work for the Kaiser?”

At that, she laughs, taking a step toward me. I take a step back, a bush scratching my legs even through the skirt of my dressing gown.

“In Oriana, there’s a story we tell children about a grotesque monster who will snatch them out of their beds and eat them if they misbehave—the Kaiser is your monster. Just the mention of him is enough to frighten you. I needed you frightened because I thought it would push you to make a decision faster. The Kaiser was just a story to nudge you along.”

“But the servant girl said it was the Kaiser,” I say. “She’d had the truth serum. Or was that fake?”

Coltania lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “She told the truth as she knew it and she only knew what she had been told—that the Kaiser was behind it and she would be well compensated for assisting him.”

I remember the girl falling to the floor, her body convulsing as she died, and I feel sick.

“Why the Archduke, though?” I ask, my voice rising in a vain hope that there is someone in this garden who will hear. Someone who will help me.

She shrugs. “I heard you talking to Prinz S?ren in this very garden, telling him Archduke Etmond was your first choice of the suitors. King Etristo had promised me that you would choose Marzen, but I feared he didn’t have as much control over you as he thought.”

If she heard that, then she must have heard the conversation that followed. The one where S?ren told me he loved me. That’s why she’s been so sure there’s something between us.

“And that’s why you framed S?ren for it,” I say. “It’s why the truth serum is taking so long. You never started brewing it, did you?”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t want you distracted. I didn’t want you to actually consider his proposal,” she says. She takes another step toward me but there’s nowhere for me to go this time. My vision blurs and suddenly there are two of her before she sharpens back into a single figure with bright, alert eyes. A predator. And I was too blind to see it until now.