The following day, Morgana had decided to go to the East Wing, a part of the castle that was barred to visitors. For the past fifty years it had been under renovations, or so Morgana had been led to believe until she'd asked Damon a few years ago, during breakfast, when the renovations would be complete.

He'd said, "Don't say anything but there's no renovations. It's a lie to keep the public out of the East Wing. You can go there, but don't go below the first floor because that's where the vaults are."

"What's in the vaults?"

"Dangerous things that we keep locked up for the safety of everyone." Damon had glanced at the clock on the wall and bolted out of his chair. "I've got to go. I'm late for the council meeting." Then he'd rushed out of the dining room and had left a shocked Morgana behind.

Now, Morgana wove through the silent and dusty corridors of the East Wing with a book tucked under her arm. It was a place that was filled with empty rooms and cracked floors. Weeds had climbed the crumbling walls like strangling vines. The air was musty because the place hadn't been cleaned in years. If there were any stragglers who came upon the East Wing at least it held up the ruse that it needed renovations.

Morgana paused in front of a pair of intricate oak doors. It was a room that she often went to for peace and quiet, especially if she didn't want to be disturbed by the Golah family. She pushed the doors open with a creak, and her silvery sandals padded over the burgundy carpet. A rusty chandelier full of cobwebs dangled overhead. Dusty and worn furniture dotted the space, as if it were a dumping place for decor that Larania didn't want. Pale light filtered through the grimy windows, and there were bookcases lining the walls. The dust tickled Morgana's nose and she sneezed. But that didn't deter her from sitting down on a moth-eaten sofa to read.

A couple of peaceful hours passed until Morgana heard footsteps echoing down the corridor. She sat up, placed her book down, and tiptoed to the door. She frowned, Damon and Erik were supposed to be in meetings all day. So, who was in this restricted part of the castle? Morgana cracked the door ajar and peered through the open space.

Her eyes were round as she swung the door wide. "What are you doing here?"

Prince Caliath paused midstride, and Morgana's stomach fluttered. She'd almost forgotten how handsome the Aeperian Prince was. A bronze crown was on his dark hair, and he wore a black suit with a burgundy jacket made of velvet. He looked so elegant, mysterious, and out of place in this disused part of the castle.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

Then Caliath swept into a bow, wafting hyacinth. "Lady Morgana, my apologies, but I got lost on my way to my carriage."

Morgana noted that there were no guards escorting Prince Caliath which was odd. She curtseyed. "Your Highness, visitors aren't allowed in this part of the castle."

"I wasn't aware of that. I apologize again."

Morgana shut the door behind her, mind racing. "It's okay. Sorry for being so blunt but you surprised me. I wasn't expecting to see anyone here."

"My father and I had a trade meeting with Golah Council." Caliath smiled. "How have you been?"

Morgana swallowed and placed a hand over her belly, as if the wound was still fresh from the night Caliath had saved her. "I've been well. Thanks to you for saving me that night."

"I've thought about you since then."

Morgana's heart stuttered.

He's been thinking about me?

"I left you on your own without knowing if you'd be okay. I should've stayed with you, but I couldn't risk anyone seeing us together."

Oh. "Why couldn't you risk someone seeing us?"

"I'm not allowed to say."

"Is it because it's not socially acceptable for Aeperians and Golights to mingle?"

Caliath's eyes flickered to the room behind Morgana.

"Is it because I'm human?"

"No."

"Then why can't either court know that you saved me?"

"Because I'm not supposed to be around you." His eyes met hers, as if he was trying to convey a message.

Morgana frowned.

"I've said too much." He looked at the ground and sighed.

"Is it because the Aeperians are dangerous to humans?"

"No, not all of us are dangerous. But any fae from either court can be dangerous to humans."

She wanted to ask more questions, but he interrupted her.

"Forgive me, but I must leave. May you know how I can get back to the carriages?"

"The carriages are in the North Wing. You go down that hall and make a left at the foyer."

"Ah, yes."

Caliath was hiding something, and Morgana wanted to know what it was. She wanted to know why he couldn't be around her and why he had no guards with him. She bit her tongue, quelling the questions that were like popping embers in a crackling fire.

"It was nice to see you again." Caliath gave her a polite nod.

"It was nice to see you too."

He turned and left, and Morgana watched him until he disappeared around a corner. She stood there for a while and wondered if he really did lose his way to the carriages, or if he'd lied about it. After all, this part of the castle was where the vaults were and Caliath was an Aeperian.

**

As soon as the sun had set and it grew dark, Morgana left the room with her book. She took a turn down a corridor and heard a giggle float through an open door. Morgana's footsteps slowed, and she frowned. What were the odds of running into two people who shouldn't have been in this part of the castle today? Morgana peered through the crack in the door and was about to push it open and tell off whoever was in there but froze when she saw a familiar face. Her hand left the door, and she stepped back. Morgana needed to get out of this corridor and hope that the two fae in that room would never find out she'd been here. As Morgana turned to leave a strange sensation swept over her body and rooted her to the spot. Her blood hummed as if it were crackling with electricity and a gust of wind flew out of her hands and smashed a dusty table into the wall. The legs splintered into shards.

The door swung open and Aelys appeared, cheeks red, hair mussed. A strap of her silvery dress hung past her shoulder. Brighid was in a far corner of the room, frantically pulling her pink gown on.

Aelys's nostrils flared. "You."

Morgana's eyes darted between Aelys and Brighid like a bird caught between two cats.

"What happened?" Aelys peered at the broken table. "Did you do that?"

"No, it just fell." Ice settled into Morgana's stomach. The wind? Was that more of Elysia's magic escaping her body?

Aelys looked Morgana up and down. "What are you doing here? Are you spying on us?"

"No, I was reading a book in a different room. I was just walking past."

"Liar. What did you see?"

They stared at each other for a moment.

"I won't say a thing," Morgana whispered, feeling as if a rock were wedged in her throat.

"You better not."

Brighid came up and placed a hand on Aelys's shoulder, then spoke to Morgana. "The king and queen don't approve of me because I don't have noble blood, even though my father is a successful clothing merchant. So, I'd appreciate it if you kept what you saw a secret." There was a pleading look in her eyes.

"Of course. I won't tell a soul."

Aelys lifted her chin, then shoved past Morgana.

Brighid hurried after her and gave Morgana an apologetic look before they disappeared around the corner. Morgana's whole body trembled as she waited for their echoing footsteps to fade into silence. Then she slumped to the floor. It was sheer luck that neither Brighid nor Aelys had seen what really happened to the table. She didn't care that her sister had a secret lover, she was more concerned about the magic seeping out of her body. Morgana had been taking two doses of elixir a day and it still wasn't good enough.

She got to her feet and knew what she had to do.

Morgana made her way out of the East Wing to where the halls were cleaner and well lit. The faint smell of roast chicken wafted from the kitchens, along with the murmurs of chefs and servants. She climbed a flight of stairs until she got to Damon's bedroom and knocked on his door.

"Come in!" he called.

Damon was on his bed with piles of parchment surrounding him. There were books scattered over his covers. And he wore a white tunic and black pants. There were more stacks of parchment on his desk, and a faint smell of ink was in the air. On his bedside table was a glass of red wine and a plate of cheese.

Damon sat up at the look on Morgana's face. "What's wrong?"

She hadn't realized that tears were running down her cheeks. He climbed out of bed, and parchment scattered onto the floor. Damon wrapped his arms around her, and Morgana sobbed. She told him what had happened with the table but left out the part with Aelys and Brighid.

"Do you think it's more of Elysia's magic escaping my body?" she asked.

Damon let her go and ran a hand through his hair. "It sounds like it."

"Well, you know what that means then." She sniffed and wiped her swollen cheeks. "I need to do that suppression training you were talking about."

"I'll speak to Alexander and see if he can come by."

"I'm so scared, Damon."

"You'll be okay, I'll make sure of it."

All Morgana could think about was the fire escaping her hands, the incident with the table, and what had happened in the field when she'd returned to the castle after going to the village. Ever since her birthday the magic had been more out of control.

"I'm scared that I'll lose my mind and I'll die. Promise me you won't let that happen," Morgana's voice trembled.

Damon gave her another hug. "I promise."