Three days have come and gone. I have done everything I possibly can in Cloak's chambers, and I took full advantage of the deliverable meals and clothes from the servants that are still assigned to tend to his rooms when he isn't at the palace. They coddle me like I'm a royal, only without the withering glances and fearful voices. Their confidence springs to life when I open the door to clean towels and fresh sheets for his bed.

Besides the company of the servants, the only person that has come and gone is Gustus. He came searching for me when he discovered my room to be near vacated-all clothes gone and the only thing left behind being the blanket at the bottom of my cot. Cloak has enough blankets in the chest at the bottom of his bed that I don't have to bother with scratchy wool.

Never in my life would I have believed that sleeping in a royal bed would be the highlight of my time at the palace. Certainly interacting with the princes and princesses themselves, even the queen, would sway higher than all the rest. The bed included. But when I curl up underneath the covers, their heavy embrace wrapping around my body like a second skin, I can't help but smile. The silk pillowcases cool the side of my face and the thick duvet wards away winter's chill. I can't help but feel pity for the Panjandrum Corps, bracing against the cold sky as they brave the Void Territory. I should worry about more things than that, but taking Theo's dragon every two weeks, back and forth to the palace, has made me hate flying.

Besides soaking up as much warmth as I can from the blankets and wool sheets, I have gone through each of his books-most of them on Luminary history. With small pastries meant to fit in the palm of my hand and a sweet, syrupy drink, I cozy up next to the roaring fire and flip through the pages of my favorite subject. Cloak studies Luminaries to better understand what he goes up against, but I wish to know the history of those magical beings that came before me.

While most relied on elemental powers to save their lives against Luminary Hunters, there were those that showed no mercy. Most killing abilities have been eradicated in Luminary arsenals due to lack of use, but they were ripe for the taking before the Raven Queen's reign over Rivian. In other lands, it's still possible to find Luminaries with unlimited powers, but those kingdoms and barren territories are too far away for traveling through winter, or any other time of the year.

I read through Cloak's notes on separate parchments that he folded in half and stuffed into the spine. He asks many questions, most that a Luminary could answer. I consider writing some of what he wishes to know in a scribbled handwriting that appears nothing like my own, but that toes the line between wishing to be found out and desiring to remain safe in these final days at the palace.

When I'm not reading or sleeping, I go through his closet and organize the clothes strewn into dresser drawers or stuffed into the armoire towards the back wall. I find sketches of the raven pendant hidden underneath a stack of boots as if he knew I'd come in here and wished to keep it a secret until Claiming's Eve. I haven't taken the necklace off since he gave it to me-and I haven't experienced a Void Queen nightmare since then. Ignoring the coincidence, I return those rough sketches to where they hid originally and close all the open drawers or doors.

His closet is clean, the messy stacks of paper on his desk are organized. Once I'm done with it, his chambers look to belong to a prince. Not a hag that doesn't realize the worth of cleanliness. Taking their chance while the prince is away, the servants dust everything in his chambers and organize the reading nook underneath the windows, a seat I've never seen Cloak use other than to collapse onto and look out the window. Though he has a balcony, he never steps foot outside the large glass doors that open their sharp wings to the back of the courtyard.

I spend most mornings bracing my elbows on the stone railing, looking down upon the stable boys as they complete their morning chores. They walk the horses, shovel hay into the feeders, and carry out wagons full of feces until the stables are clean and not a speck of nightly woes remains. Wrapped in heavy coats, the wind still finds a way to slither underneath and bite at my skin.

Three days spent alone, eating meals in a dining room that should hold many people, has gotten the best of my curiosity. A thread pulls me towards his desk and I search through his paperwork for that supposed battle plan. Previous reports of suspected Luminaries, a list of names-some are crossed off and others are not. The rules for Claiming's Eve. My name scribbled at the bottom, written in his cleanest handwriting and then again at the top, the letters swooping large and tall.

I look over each page, trying to remember the quick glance I received at the one he held in his hand. It appeared to be another plan resembling the reports Keaya works on before every Luminary hunt. Yet, it's not here. I can allow my mind to believe that Cloak was writing out a plan to head into the Void Territory, but I circle back to wondering why he wouldn't show the report to me. There has to be something I'm missing...something-

A soft knock rumbles the door and Gustus peeks his head in, scanning the clean room before his eyes fall onto me, standing at Cloak's desk. Looking much too suspicious.

A childish smirk tugs at his mouth. "It looks as though my brother never lived here." Scanning the ceiling, he squints at the clean divots and vaults. "The servants certainly took the time to eradicate his existence."

"Cloak has forgotten what it feels like to live like a prince," I say, opening the door to allow him in the rest of the way. "He takes advantage of these luxuries."

"I cannot disagree with you there. Once he's back, he'll mark his territory with thrown clothes and an unkempt bed. But for now, at least I can admire it."

I nod and twist my hands together, interlacing both sets of my fingers. "Do you think they'll be all right? The Void Territory...with your aunt there and many unaccounted-for Luminaries, I can't imagine the toll they might face."

Gustus shrugs, rubbing at the back of his neck. "The Panjandrum Corps knows what they're doing. At least, I hope. Cloak leads his forces without fear, but he isn't afraid to face casualties along the way. Precisely why he took extra men that he believes are expendable."

My face contorts into a cringe. "Expendable men? That doesn't sound like something he'd do," I counter.

"Years ago, when Cloak first arrived to become another prince, one of the first things I noticed about him was how unpredictable he was. I spent most my young years learning people, their ways, their quirks." Gustus looks to the floor as he speaks. "After some time, I always knew how to figure them out. But with Cloak, I never could. He's unpredictable, and always will be. Precisely why my mother took an interest in him."

Gustus's eyes glint in the orange light of the sunset streaming in from the windows. Not only is the view outside the balcony best to absorb the morning, but the evenings are also a different wonder. The room heats as the sun attempts to grasp onto the glass windows, seeping in for just a few moments before the fire orb sinks behind the mountains-never to return until the next morning. There is one sure thing in this life, at least. Once the sun sets, it won't come back until the day deems it appropriate.

"Not to say you can't trust him," Gustus adds quickly once he notices the confusion on my face. "He's trustable, just hard to understand at times."

I scoff. "I learned that the first day I arrived."

He clicks his tongue to the floor, a sudden sadness casting over his normally calm features. "And now your time here is almost up," he says in a cracked whisper. He shoots a knowing look into my eyes, and I catch the sheen of tears overcoming his stare. "I never got to take you shopping in the capital."

"Gustus," I practically whine, throwing my arms around his waist to hug him tight. I try to hold back an arriving lump in my throat, though I'm completely betrayed. "You're always welcome at Gudgeon Docks. If I ever see a dragon soaring through the sky, I'll know it's you and I promise to come running the second I know."

He hugs me back just as tight, squeezing my shoulders until I wonder if they'll snap under the hard press of his fingers. "Do you promise to let me take you into too many stores at the capital? Until your feet hurt?"

I smile against his chest. "Of course."

"What about trying on everything I ask you to?"

Laughing like a loon, I pry myself off of him and hold the prince at arm's length. The tears have stopped their flow around the corners of his eyes, and he smiles down at me sadly, brushing away my emotion with the back of his finger. "I promise to be the best supporter I can be, even if I'm thoroughly annoyed."

He takes my shoulders and pulls me closer, kissing my forehead. "That's my girl," he whispers against my skin. "Come, I'll take you back home."

"What about Cloak? He wishes me to stay until he comes back."

"It's not fair to keep you from your family." Gustus takes my hand, threading my fingers through his. The cold weight of his ring presses into the side of my middle finger. "I'll explain to him when he gets back."

Though three days late, I'll still receive the chance to surprise my family. Gustus picks one of the smaller dragons from the stables and allows me to steer, controlling the beast into flight. Each breath of frigid air lights my throat on fire, but at least the prince can't discern the tears in my eyes from the cold or the sorrow I feel for having to leave, knowing the next time I arrive, it'll be to say my farewells to Cloak and the Raven Queen. The latter believed I could heal her son under impossible conditions and Cloak has turned into more than just the imagination of a beast I was led to believe from my father's stories.

I wipe away the tears but they continue to come. Gustus wraps his arms around me tight, resting his head on my shoulder. The empty sky spreads before us, cut through cleanly by a dragon's wings. Perhaps these journeys from the middle of Rivian to the very edge aren't so bad. A pit yawns open in my stomach and I allow the tears to flow, giving the advantage to that lump in my throat to escape.

Something that threatened my life shouldn't cast me in a veil of sorrow. Yet here I am, descending on my home, and wondering if I can make another outside of Gudgeon.