White-hot heat in her cheeks. Plenty of strangers had bathed and changed her over the past eleven months, and she was relieved Rhoslyn had done so, rather than some sweating, panting guy. Still. Mortifying. “Where’s my shirt?”

“It’s being washed. I must admit, I have never seen its like. There was strange writing on it.”

She closed the book and clutched it to her chest. “I want it back.” Just then, it was her only link to home.

“Of course. After I escort you to your mother, I—oh, I’m sorry. I did not mean to mention her again. I will take you to…the study below and fetch the garment for you.” Before Jane could comment, Rhoslyn added through gnashed teeth, “I am so happy—as are all your people—that you have come back to us. We missed you greatly.”

A lie, no question. “Wh-where was I?”

“Your sister, Princess Laila, witnessed your fall from the cliffs what seems an eternity ago. After you were stabbed and drained by your new slave. Though your body was never found, it was assumed you were dead, as no one has ever survived such a drop before. We should have known that you, the darling of Delfina, would find a way.” She flashed a stiff smile that lasted a single second, no more.

Princess Laila. That name, too, reverberated in Jane’s head, followed on the heels of “cruel, twisted desires.”

“Nicolai,” she said. Was he here? Real?

The servant chewed on her bottom lip, suddenly nervous. “You wish me to bring the slave, Nicolai, to you?”

Jane’s blood quickened and warmed, her skin tingling just as before. The girl knew who he was. That meant he was here, that he was as real as she was.

Her mind fizzed and crackled like her favorite candy. The book. The characters. The story, coming to life before her eyes…Jane now a part of it, deeply integrated, though she was someone other than herself. Finally. A puzzle piece slid into place.