Racing along, I looked over my shoulder as the last of the Ascended swept through the door, her crimson gown like a cape. A Royal Guard closed the door behind her and then stood with his back pressed against it, his short swords crossed.

Guards streamed past us then as we ran through the foyer, around the statues, and I looked at every one of them, hoping and fearing that I’d see Hawke. Each face that passed me was unfamiliar.

And then the screams from the Great Hall ceased.

My steps faltered. Tawny looked back, too. The screams had simply…stopped.

“Come, Poppy,” Vikter urged.

We spilled into the banquet hall. A guard came running over, his face and arm spotted with blood. “They’re at the back entrance, surrounding the whole damn castle. The only way out is through them.”

“No,” The Duchess argued. “We wait them out. Here. This room will do.” She stalked forward. “They won’t make it to us.”

“Your Grace—” Vikter started.

“No.” The Duchess turned to him, that same odd fire I’d seen earlier in her eyes. “They will not make it to us.” Her gaze snapped to me. “Bring Penellaphe.”

The skin around Vikter’s mouth tightened, and we exchanged looks. He shook his head. I held onto Tawny’s hand as we crossed the room and moved into one of the greeting rooms. In the back of my mind, I was at least grateful that it hadn’t been the room Malessa had been murdered in.

Because there was a good chance that we were all going to die in here.

The Commander remained outside, sword drawn, and I knew he was going back to the Hall. My dagger practically burned against my thigh.

As the door closed behind us, I let go of Tawny’s hand and looked around. There was only one window, but it was far too small for anyone but a child to climb through.

The Duchess dropped into a settee, her lips pressed into a firm line. Lord Mazeen went to her, and I saw that several Royal Guards remained inside.

“Dear girl, you look like you’re about to pass out from fright,” the Duchess said to Tawny. “We will be just fine in here. I assure you. Come.” She patted the seat. “Sit with me.”

Tawny glanced at me, and I gave her a discreet nod. She drew in a shallow breath and then joined the Duchess, who turned to the Lord. “Bran, why don’t you pour us some of the whiskey.”

As the Lord rose to obey the Duchess, I looked at Vikter and whispered, “This is incredibly stupid.”

His jaw flexed.

“If they make it in here, we are sitting ducks.” I kept my voice low. “That is if we don’t burn alive from the flaming Duke.”

He turned from the Duchess as he nodded. “Are you armed?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” His gaze fixed on the door. “If anyone makes it in here, do not hesitate to use what you’ve been taught.”

My gaze lifted to his in question.

“I don’t care who sees you,” he whispered. “Defend yourself.”

Exhaling slowly, I nodded, and then there was only the sound of glass clinking against glass and then nothing more. The guards remained focused on the door, and I stayed near Vikter, checking on Tawny every so often. She was staring straight ahead, the drink virtually forgotten in her hand. Each time I looked, the Lord was staring back at me.

How unfair that he still breathed when so many others did not.

I didn’t care how unworthy that thought was. I meant it. I didn’t know how much time passed, but my thoughts wandered to Hawke. Fear trickled through my blood like ice.

Lightly touching Vikter’s back, I waited until he faced me. “Do you think Hawke is okay?” I whispered.

“He’s good at killing,” he answered, refocusing on the door. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

A lot of the guards who’d fallen had been good at killing. All the talent in the kingdom meant nothing when an arrow came out of nowhere.

I forced myself to take a deep, slow breath. The Duke was dead. Masadonia had become the next Goldcrest Manor, but Tawny was okay. So was Vikter. And Hawke had to be. This…this wasn’t going to turn out like the night the Craven had come, when my mother—

Something hit the door, causing Tawny to gasp. She clasped her hand over her mouth.

Vikter lifted his finger to his lips. I held my breath. It could’ve been anything. No need to panic. Yes, we were fish in a barrel, but we were—

The door rattled with the next impact, shaking the hinges. Tawny rose, as did the Duchess. The guards moved to block the entryway, drawing their swords.

Wood cracked and splintered as the deadly edge of a battleax breached the portal.

“What did you say, Your Grace?” the Lord said, sighing. “That they wouldn’t make it to us?”

“Shut up,” she hissed. “We’re fine.”

A chunk of wood fell. We were not fine.

Vikter looked over his shoulder at me. Our eyes met, and I let go of the breath I had been holding. I turned, planting my foot on the seat of an empty chair. I gathered up my skirt—

“Now, this is getting interesting,” the Lord remarked.

My gaze met his as I unsheathed the dagger, wishing I could shove it through his heart. He must’ve seen that in my stare because his nostrils flared.

“Penellaphe,” gasped the Duchess. “What are you doing with a dagger? And under your skirt no less? This whole time?”

A high, panicked giggle snuck out from around Tawny’s hand where it covered her mouth, and her eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Duchess Teerman shook her head. “What are you doing with a dagger, Penellaphe?”

“Doing my best not to die,” I told her. Her mouth dropped open.

Knowing I would hear about this later—if there was a later— I turned back to the door. The hall had quieted. Nothing moved beyond the gash in the wood. One of the Royal Guards crept forward and bent down to peer out.

His head tilted to the side. “Shit,” he exclaimed, turning. “Get back!”

I jumped, as did Vikter, but two of the guards weren’t fast enough. The door blew off its hinges and smacked into them, taking one of them down while the other was caught in the chest by the battering ram. I heard a sickening crunch.

Vikter swung his sword, cutting through bone and tissue. The battering ram hit the ground, along with an arm. A man screamed, stumbling back as blood pumped from the severed limb. He fell to the side, and then they swarmed, swallowing Vikter and the guards. There was no time to give in to panic or fear as one of the Descenters stalked forward, flipping the battleax in his hand. I had no idea if they were here for me or to just shed blood, but with the mask and how I was dressed, they had no idea that I was the Maiden.