Our footsteps patter up the stairs leading to the third floor. I'm grateful when the tile steps switch to red carpeting, which muffles Sigvard and Benno's clunky boots. This is one area where I'm lucky, females wear dainty slippers, allowing me to sneak around the palace more easily.

Though glad for the concealment of our shoes, the carpet also prevents us from hearing anyone else moving about. I listen for the slightest noise, a sign we should hide—not that we have many options. Only doors line the corridor, and there's only one lounge in this wing of the palace.

A door clicks. I freeze in place, looking at the boys. A woman rounds the corner in a flowing green dress. I recognize her as Duchess Frieza, one of the highest members of the Royal Court. She smiles and dips into a curtsy when she sees us.

"Good afternoon, your highnesses. How are you doing?" Her voice always has a lyrical quality, singing her greetings instead of saying them. It's soothing and so enjoyable that most stay extra quiet when she brings forth a proposition in court meetings.

"Very well, thank you. And yourself?" I say.

"Very well. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No, we're just walking."

Duchess Frieza's expression doesn't change, but she remains silent for a beat too long. "It's a lovely day outside. You might wish to walk in the fresh air."

"We're taking Benno around the palace," I say. "Don't worry, when we're done, we'll go outside."

"In that case, I hope you enjoy the tour, Prince Benno." Duchess Frieza curtsied once more, then glides away.

As we continue, picking up our pace to avoid another run-in, Sigvard leans over.

"Nice going. I almost believed you."

I snort quietly. "Thanks."

Benno is ready with the wire in hand when we reach Uncle Rothbart's room. It takes a few twists and tugs for it to bend into shape. All this practice is improving his speed so the door opens in a matter of seconds. I rush to the table, opening the journal on the table.

The letter isn't there. I flip through blank sheet after sheet , then lift the entire book and hold it from the spine. Nothing falls from the dangling pages.

"It's not here," I breathe. Panic surges through me, especially when I glimpse Sigvard's scowl. "It was right here."

"I'll check his coat pockets," Benno offers, heading for the wardrobe.

I fling open the drawers of his desk, sifting through papers and folios. I move to the books on his desk, then those collecting dust on his shelves. In my peripheral, Sigvard stands by the door, watching us.

"Help me!" I hiss.

Reluctantly, Sigvard comes to my side, flipping through thick hardcovers. "We can't search his entire room," he whispers at the end of his first shelf.

"We have to." I'm on my third row with no intention of stopping. I hold each one upside down, brushing the pages like an accordion to dislodge the envelope if it's stuck in the binding. Three books into the fourth row, I grab a large volume, coating my fingers in dust. When I turn it upside down, loose paper scraps flutter to the ground.

"Aylo!" Sigvard hisses. "How could you?"

Noise thumps outside in a two-beat rhythm. I swallow any reply I might've had for Sigvard and frantically shove the scraps into a pile. I scoop the mess of letters and symbols into the book's inside cover. Hopefully, it isn't a book Uncle Rothbart will look at anytime soon. The fine layer of dust encasing it suggests not, but it'd be just our luck for him to need it now.

The book fits back in its slot, and I join Sigvard and Benno behind the beige curtains pulled over Uncle Rothbart's floor-length window.

Seconds drag into minutes. The door doesn't stir from the latch. Adrenaline leaks from my veins, and soon, I can think again. I gulp, though little can dampen my dry throat.

"I think they're gone," I whisper. Benno nods and slides through the curtains. I make it halfway between the thick material when Sigvard grips my arm.

"Stop it, Aylo," he says. "No more. The letter isn't here."

"But—"

"Do you want to get caught in the Executive Duke's room? Because I don't. If we get caught now, it'll hamper our investigation. Just stop, and we'll regroup, figure out where to go from here."

My eyes drift to the window. Pastel light scatters across a field of flowers and the forest beyond. If we leave now, maybe there's time to make progress on another lead.

"Fine." I yank my arm from his fingers, marching past him. I press my ear to the door before leaving just to make sure no one's outside.

The three of us hurry through the labyrinth of empty halls. I suppose it doesn't matter if someone sees us. We're technically allowed in this part of the palace, and we don't need to worry about someone seeing us enter or exit Uncle's room. But I still want to get away from here. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can jump to our next search.

The hallway leads to an open area in between the West and East Wings on the third floor. As I round the corner to the stairs, a voice says,

"Princess Aylo?"

I whirl around. My gaze lands on a boy sprawled on one of two couches in the room's center. He pushes a piece of blond hair from his face.

"It's been a while since I've seen you. You look good."

And you look old. Several years have passed since I last saw him. His tanned cheeks are more defined, same as his muscular arms displayed by a sleeveless black shirt. The missing fabric isn't due to money, though. Prince Leonard Lorenis is heir to The Kingdom of Verrain, the largest and most prosperous kingdom. It's no wonder Saursi has made an effort to secure their alliance. In fact, Father went as far as to propose a marriage between Clemaina and Prince Leonard. It was broken off soon after for unknown reasons, but it didn't affect our alliance.

To be honest, I hoped I'd never see his cocky grin again. It was stupid considering how powerful they are. I dip into a small curtsy, enough to acknowledge his presence.

"I hope you enjoy your stay in the palace." I turn to leave, but his voice stops me again.

"I'm sure I will, especially if you join my family for horderves this afternoon."

My jaw clenches, and I glance at Sigvard. His head flicks in the Prince's direction. Irritation hardens on my face, but my brother is right. I can't decline his invitation. I force my expression to relax into something neutral and face Leonard once more.

"Of course. Let me get changed."

"You look fine right now." Leonard stands and offers me his arm. "Shall we?"

It takes all my strength to stamp down the frustration simmering inside me. Prince Leonard is the last person I want to be around, and based on previous visits, I would've guessed that he felt the same toward me.

I think he's up to something. That's the only explanation for his patronizing behavior. I don't even know if he's spoken to me before, giving Clemaina special attention while pretending Sigvard and I didn't exist. He's the same, I realize, completely ignoring Sigvard and Benno a few minutes ago. What a spoiled brat.

The corridor twists and splits in two. Prince Leonard doesn't speak as he leads me to the guests' dining room. Through the glass walls, I spot the King and Queen of Verrain at a table. The chairs appear too small for them and their puffy white and blue garments. A crown for the King and a mound of curls on the Queen's head ensure they're taller than anyone else in the room.

This should be interesting, though not as much as our investigation.