Dăneşti stepped forward, his glare powerful enough to make me wilt. A rough hand was around my arm an instant later, yanking me away from the forest line. I stared at Dăneşti as he pulled me forward, wondering how on earth he’d been tasked with curfew watch. Perhaps he’d been demoted for being so unpleasant.

“Wait!” I cried, squirming from his grasp. I thrashed around until I faced the headmaster. “A body was stolen from the tower morgue. Two thieves in hoods dragged it through here just moments ago. That’s the only reason I left my chambers.” A muscle in Moldoveanu’s jaw twitched. “See for yourself. They were right ahead of me. I think one of them might be the Impaler. The body smelled of garlic. They are—”

I blinked at the forest, eerily quiet as if it were holding its breath, waiting for Moldoveanu’s verdict. The owls didn’t even dare to hoot. I stared ahead at the undisturbed trail where the thieves had just been; no footprints were visible as snow fell with more abandon.

No sign of the figures I knew I’d seen or the body they’d taken. It was as if the forest were cleansing itself of wrongdoing, concealing a crime I was sure had taken place.

“Tell me. Does your imagination always run so… colorfully? Perhaps these ‘thieves’ you speak of were nothing more than kitchen staff, preparing for the morning meal. The excess food stores are located down that path, Miss Wadsworth.”

“But… I swear…” I hardly knew anymore. I glanced to where Dăneşti had been hiding, but he wouldn’t have seen them from the corner of the castle. And if the excess food stores were down there, then he might not have paid much attention to servants doing their jobs.

The headmaster didn’t even bother looking in the direction I’d pointed out. “Until further notice, you are on academic probation, Miss Wadsworth. This sort of erratic behavior might be acceptable in London, but you’ll find we take things a bit more seriously here. One more word from you, and I will lose my remaining patience and send you from this castle at once.”

Dear Liza,

After reading your last correspondence, I took a great deal of time thinking it over. I believe you’re right, though I know you likely didn’t doubt that. I realized that I was hurt and angry. Thomas’s misguided actions arose not from a lack of affection on his part but from a misunderstanding of how he might offer the correct support. (Which clearly does not include warning professors of my emotional state.)

I have other worries, though. Ones that I’m frightened to even put a name to. Please burn this letter once you’ve read it, and tell no one of its contents. I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. One student was found dead and an unidentified body was discovered here in a matter of weeks. One showed no outward signs of murder, and the other had perished from… more horrendous measures. Yet both of their bodies had been drained completely of blood. Ghastly to speak of; I do apologize. I also haven’t heard from a friend here in nearly a week and I’m worried for her.

I won’t be able to travel home for the Christmas holiday due to severe weather and lack of time off, but I will write often to make up for it. Thomas’s family keeps a house in Bucharest and his sister has invited us to a ball there, and I haven’t a clue what I’ll wear to such an event. I left my most cherished dresses at home. Silly to speak of such frivolity when there are many worse things happening.

Has Aunt Amelia given any more thought to you touring the Continent? Thomas’s sister, Miss Daciana Cresswell, has promised to write her on your behalf. Perhaps you might ask your mother to reconsider and grant you permission as a holiday gift. Or maybe she would agree to us traveling to America? I should love to spend time there and visit Grandmama. We might be able to persuade my grandmother to speak on our behalf as well. You know how convincing Grandmama can be.

Apologies for not sending along a more detailed note. I must dash off to bed. Anatomy lesson is first thing in the morning. It’s by far my favorite class (even though the headmaster is an awful brute). How surprising, I’m sure.

Your loving cousin,

AR

P.S. How is my father? Please give him a hug from me and tell him I shall write soon. I miss him terribly and worry he’ll fall under the spell of his laudanum in my absence. Be wary of him locking himself in his study. No good ever comes of that.

TOWER CHAMBERS

CAMERE DIN TURN

BRAN CASTLE

14 DECEMBER 1888

Unease of my letter to Liza falling into anyone else’s hands had me delivering it to the castle’s outgoing post first thing in the morning. After I returned, I watched from the doorway of my tower rooms as an uninvited guest tiptoed across the sitting area and made his way toward my bedroom as if he had every right to it. Truly, it was remarkable how confident he could be while doing something wrong in every possible manner.

I hadn’t the slightest notion what he was up to, but the scoundrel would likely have an interesting excuse. Since I’d been escorted to my rooms, I hadn’t yet had the opportunity of discussing the events of the previous evening with him. Ileana still hadn’t been available to attend to me, so I’d sent a note via the new chambermaid, and had told him to meet me after class.

In the master library.

We were supposed to have met ten minutes ago, but even though I hadn’t been permitted to attend Moldoveanu’s class, I was running shamefully behind. Prior to writing and delivering my letter, I’d spent much of the morning reading anything I could about the castle and had lost track of time. I cleared my throat, satisfied when he flipped around, brows practically touching his hairline.

“Oh, hello. I thought you were in the library? It’s impolite to lie to your friends, Wadsworth.”

“Do I even dare ask why you’re sneaking about my private chambers, Cresswell?” His gaze darted to my open bedchamber door, calculating Lord only knew what. He was only a few paces from it, less if he used his long-limbed advantage. “Or shall we pretend as if you weren’t being the indecent scoundrel I know you to be?”

“Why weren’t you in class?” Thomas shifted from one foot to the other. There was a rather large package partially hidden behind his back. I moved into the sitting room, peering around him, but he danced back a step. “Uh-uh-uh,” he sang. “This is called a surprise, Wadsworth. Go on about your business and leave me to it. You know I wouldn’t scorn you for entering my bedroom. Being as I’m such a scoundrel.”

I moved closer to where he stood, eyes narrowed. “You broke into my chambers. Now you want me to leave you alone to do whatever manner of mischief you’re up to? Doesn’t seem very logical.”

“Hmm. I do see your point.”

Thomas slowly backed into my bedroom, foot hooking around the threshold with utter control. I would have focused on his intent more if I hadn’t been trying to see the tantalizing package he was hiding. Glimpses of black ribbon tied in a ridiculously oversize bow had me fully intrigued.

“When you put it that way, of course I don’t want you to leave me alone,” he went on. “We could have so much more fun together.”

His gaze purposely flicked to the single bed, lingering there to clarify his intentions. I’d completely forgotten my next question, as Thomas shifted I could now see brown paper covering the entire box. It was large enough to store a body. I inched closer, curiosity spinning wildly through my mind. What on earth could it be? I kept my focus on it, hoping to glean a clue.

“Though,” he added slowly, “I would prefer to roll around on something a bit more… accommodating to my size.”

I stopped moving. Nearly ceased breathing as his words batted my curiosity about the package away. I could not imagine what it would be like: lying in bed together, kissing without restraint… and—

Thomas smirked, as if he knew precisely the direction my wanton thoughts had taken and was pleased I hadn’t tossed him from the window. Yet.

Face burning, I pointed to the chamber behind me. “Get out of my bedroom, Cresswell. You may leave the box on the settee.”

He tsked. “Apologies, my sweet. But you really should act immediately when you read my body language. I saw you take in my foot. A decent job of collecting details, I must admit. Too bad you let those scandalous thoughts distract you. Though I can hardly blame you.”

“Take in your… Thomas!” Before I could charge at him, he swept the door closed with his blasted foot. I tried the knob, but he’d already twisted the key, locking himself in. I was going to murder him.

“For such a modest young woman,” Thomas called from beyond the door, “you certainly have an intriguing number of lacy unmentionables. I’m going to be imagining all sorts of improper things while you’re sawing up the next body in Percy’s class. Do you believe that makes me some sort of deviant? Perhaps I should be worried. Actually, maybe it’s you who should be afraid.”

“Cresswell! You’ve made your point, now kindly leave. If the headmaster discovers this impropriety while I’m on academic probation, I’ll be expelled!”

I pounded the door, jumping back a step when it creaked open. All humor was wiped from his expression as he cocked his head, staring down at me. “Did you say academic probation? What manner of mischief have I missed out on and what, exactly, does probation entail?”

I slumped against the wall, suddenly exhausted from the previous night. I’d barely slept, tossing and turning as if that might help sort out what I thought I’d seen. Were there really two people chanting in the corridor? Did they truly steal a body, or was that bundle they were carrying simply excess food stores, as Moldoveanu suggested? I no longer trusted myself.

Thomas mimicked my position by leaning against the doorjamb and I relayed each detail I could recall, knowing he’d find meaning in anything I might have missed, as he often saw things in a unique manner. I spoke of my adventure with Anastasia in the village, and the discovery of the missing young woman’s possible involvement with the Order of the Dragon. I even told him about my suspicions regarding Nicolae’s illustrations and how that might possibly tie in with his cousin’s death. I didn’t inform him that I’d also been featured in the prince’s journal, though. That I didn’t want to share for several reasons. When I finished, Thomas gnawed his bottom lip until it seemed it might bruise.