I need to keep her talking so I can get a hold of myself.

“We were poured the same wine, though,” I say, forcing myself to focus even though my mind is a blur. “How did you know I wouldn’t be poisoned? Was it the cup?”

“No, not the cup,” she says. “Too many things could go wrong that way; there are so many servants in this palace. I couldn’t control all of them. No, I didn’t poison the wine, but I did lace it with a touch of strawberry juice. Not dangerous to you, but the Archduke was allergic.”

I remember Archduke Etmond’s face swelling up and turning red, him grasping his throat. Coltania breathing into his mouth in an attempt to save him—or so it appeared.

“You weren’t trying to save him, were you?” I ask.

“I was making sure no one else could. He might have recovered on his own, if I’d let him,” she says.

“The poison was on you,” I guess.

She smiles, red lips stretching over white teeth. With my vision blurring as it is, for an instant I swear she has fangs.

“Clever girl. My lip paint is mixed with distilled bolenza—not the first time I’ve used it for that purpose. I’ve built up a tolerance over the years.”

The rumors, I remember—the mysterious deaths of her brother’s political rivals. His clear path to the chancellorship.

I open my mouth to ask her another question to buy a little more time, but before I can, blinding pain shoots through my head and I cry out, dropping the teacup. It shatters against the stone-paved path, spilling the rest of the tea over the stones. In the moonlight, the liquid glows.

Coltania watches me for a moment, curious, until the pain passes as quickly as it came on. I gasp for air, struggling for a coherent thought.

“Sorry about that,” she says. Again, she doesn’t sound sorry at all. “A side effect of the poison. Don’t worry, though. Once it knocks you unconscious, the pain will cease.”

Another wave of pain hits. It feels like my head is being cleaved in two. I double over, hands on my knees to brace myself. I let myself scream as loudly as I can. Someone must be here, someone must hear me.

“Why poison me?” I ask her when the pain recedes again to a dull throb. “What could you possibly gain by this?”

“Oh, it won’t kill you,” she assures me. “It’ll just…make you easier to handle. Now that we know Etristo’s deal with Marzen and me wasn’t exclusive, I’m not taking any more chances. It won’t be easy to smuggle you out of Sta’Crivero if you’re kicking and screaming.”

Out of Sta’Crivero. She isn’t killing me, but kidnapping me isn’t much better. And if no one came after that last scream, no one will come at all.

I still feel the dagger at my hip, but if I have trouble wielding it when I’m in perfect health, I certainly can’t do it now, in this state.

Another wave of pain hits, stronger this time. So strong that I would vomit if there were anything in my stomach, but empty as it is, I only retch until the pain ebbs again.

“If you’d had more of your tea like I told you to, it would have done its job by now,” Coltania says with a heavy sigh, as if my pain is inconveniencing her.

I slump down onto the ground, my vision swimming with black spots. Part of me wants to give in to the darkness and let reality slip away to save myself from another wave of pain, but I fight through it. I force myself to hold on to what is happening around me. The sharp edges of the stones beneath me, the scratch of the branches at my back. Coltania’s face looming above me, watching me like I’m a most peculiar specimen that she can’t quite figure out.

The pain comes again and I dig my fingernails into my palms to anchor me here—a trick I used during the Kaiser’s punishments as well to keep from passing out. I scream again, trying to scream even louder.

“No one will hear you,” Coltania tells me, but even as she says it I hear footsteps coming toward us. My heart leaps but whatever hope there was disappears when Chancellor Marzen appears, looking between his sister and me in shock.

“Coltania,” he says, bewildered. “You said you were only going to talk to her.”

“We’ve put too much money into this ploy to risk it failing because of one girl’s indecisiveness. Favoring you one day, the Prinz the next, the Emperor another. Who knows who she will favor tomorrow?” she says, never taking her eyes off me. “I did what I had to do, Marzen, just as I always do. Once we get her away from her advisors and her guards, she will be far more amenable. But you were right about one thing, Theodosia—the Kaiser will come when he does actually learn where you are—and I imagine the Czar will be alerting him soon in a vain attempt to curry favor. We’ll be long gone by the time he comes, though. We’ll keep you safe, isn’t that right, Marzen?”

The Chancellor doesn’t look at her, though. His eyes are on me, wide with shock as his mouth hangs open.

“This isn’t what we planned,” he says, more to himself than to either of us.

“Plans change, Marzen,” she snaps. “You never complained about the way I handled things in the past; I don’t see why you should start now. The pain will end in a moment and then she’ll be out. I’ll stay with her; you go make sure everyone in our entourage is ready to leave immediately. If anyone realizes she’s missing while we’re still here, there will be no escaping.”

For a moment, Marzen doesn’t move. He stays rooted in place, his eyes stuck on me. Another wave of pain washes over me, sending spasms through my body. I scream again, less out of hope that someone will hear and more in order to elicit some amount of sympathy from him.

Whatever sympathy he has, though, it isn’t enough. Tearing his gaze away from me, he looks at his sister and nods.

“Hurry,” he says. “If anyone finds out about this, they won’t let us leave this city alive.”

And then he squares his shoulders and hurries away without a backward glance.

My mind blurs around the edges. The dark spots grow larger. The pain gets worse. I can’t hold on much longer, but I must. I will not be made into someone else’s prisoner again, I will not be played like someone else’s pawn. The next time the pain hits, I hunch forward and scream again, reaching into my dressing gown for the hilt of my dagger. I find it, but my grip is weak. I can barely hold it, light as it is. I don’t know how I’m going to summon the strength to wield it.

I have to, though. There is no other choice. I hold the dagger as tightly as I can before sitting up. I roll my eyes back in my head and let my body go limp, sagging against the bush.

“Finally,” Coltania mutters. I hear her footsteps grow closer and feel her crouch down next to me. I tighten my grip on the dagger, hidden in the fold of my dressing gown. My heart thunders in my chest, all that is keeping me awake and alert now. One chance is all I’ll get.

I remember Artemisia’s lessons, how to hold the blade, where to aim. I remember her stoking my anger, but I don’t need her petty taunts now. Coltania killed Hoa. I see her body in my mind as I last did, the image of her that will never leave me. Coltania killed her, and that knowledge is all the fire I need.

When Coltania reaches under my arms to hoist me up, I take my chance and thrust the dagger into her stomach.

It is not the best place to strike. It is not the heart or the throat or the thigh, any of which Artemisia told me would cause a quick death. Those places are difficult to reach at this angle, difficult to accurately pierce in my current state. The stomach is easy, even if it will be slower. The blade slides in, slicing through skin and muscle like they’re nothing but air.

Coltania gasps in my ear, pulling away from me. Her eyes go wide and panicked as they search my face, struggling to make sense of what I’ve done. I stare right back at her as she slumps to the ground and I fall beside her.

It takes a long time for the life to leave her eyes, but I don’t look away until it has.

I DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH TIME passes. I am paralyzed, sitting beside Coltania’s body. Her poison lingers in my veins, blurring my sight and making me dizzy, but the pain at least has stopped. I thank the gods that I didn’t drink more than a couple of sips. I imagine waking up in Oriana, or en route there, alone. Would my Shadows have figured out where I was? I like to think so, but I can’t say for sure. I’m glad I won’t have to find out.

A stick crunches behind me and I whirl my head around, making myself dizzy in the process. There’s no one there, though, only flowers and trees and—I see it now, a telltale shimmer in the air.

“Heron,” I say, bringing my hand up to my heart to slow its frantic beat.