The last thing Erika Laltiery expected was for the crown prince’s fiancée, a supposed childhood friend of hers, to ask for help with something far from honorable.

  Did Faith really know her so little that she thought she’d stoop to something as petty as making a first-year student’s life miserable? She wouldn’t do that even if Bianca L’Crom rubbed her the wrong way instead of being perfectly fine.

  She wouldn’t even do that to her brother, and with him it would be like playing his own game, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

  For as long as she could remember, she’d shared playtime with her brother and the duke’s two daughters. Sol, as a child, was sweet, so she enjoyed spending time with her. Faith, however, already showed signs of becoming the proud, bossy, and fake woman she’d turned into.

  Over the years, it was sad to watch Sol become a bitter copy of her sister, one who never seemed pretty enough, smart enough, or scheming enough to match her. Erika tried to make Sol see that she didn’t need to be so perfect, but Sol just laughed at her—Erika herself was also under enormous family pressure and had to behave impeccably to live up to her family name.

  As for Octavius... well, he hadn’t changed at all: since childhood, he’d seemed delighted to inflict small tortures on his twin sister.

  Something that had gloriously ended when Bianca and Ronan intervened in that dungeon. When Erika had had enough and couldn’t take the abuse anymore, something broke inside her, and she left her brother’s party.

  Curiously, she soon realized that breaking away had shown her a new path, a different life she’d never allowed herself to dream of because her obligations as the daughter of a high nobility family wouldn’t let her.

  That said, the dam holding back her emotions had cracked.

  Badly.

  Before, it had been difficult to be the well-mannered noble whose role she played. Now it was absolute torture. She’d tasted freedom for a few glorious moments and, on top of that, she continued ignoring her brother at the academy. Did he try to step on her or boss her around? She ignored him, walked away.

  However, her position as the daughter of House Laltiery was another matter entirely, and she had to rigorously fulfill her obligations. She had to be courteous and polite to people she didn’t want to be around and attend events she even hated.

  In her three years at the academy, she’d seen girls from lesser noble houses who simply enjoyed studying and making social connections. They seemed so much more relaxed than her, who had to measure every word, always thinking about what they might say at home if she didn’t act with exquisite correctness and word got back to them.

  Because as harshly as she treated herself, she was certain that the slightest mistake she made would reach their ears. She didn’t judge others that way, only herself.

  Stopping eating at her brother’s table at the academy and breaking up the party... well, she’d had an unpleasant conversation with her father where she’d tried in vain to explain the situation. It was only the fact that her twin had burned her that made her father agree to the dissolution. Apparently, he didn’t know that was her brother’s usual tactic for clearing dungeons.

  So she had approval to distance herself from him, to stop being glued together like they were inseparable. Which gave her a pleasant peace thanks to the absence of his constant contempt toward her.

  And that was the only concession she got. The rest of her duties remained in force. So if Faith invited her for tea at her ducal home, she obviously had to attend.

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  As she stepped down from the carriage, it became increasingly clear that she was playing a role, that the chains oppressing her were getting heavier and heavier. For a moment, she found it hard to breathe.

  Despite how tight her corset was, she knew it wasn’t because of that, but because she wanted to be herself at all times, not just when she was tanking. Even in the solitude of her room, she had to behave with the impeccable manners of a lady. She couldn’t throw herself on the bed, laugh, scream—she had to keep moving in that silent, elegant way that felt completely artificial and stiff to her, lest any of the servants see her and tell her parents or the tutors they’d assigned for her education before she entered the academy.

  Since the Blue Mountains dungeon incident, she’d loosened up a bit at the academy when no one was watching. Not too much. She knew that’s why she was running out of air. Going to see Faith, fully slipping back into her role as Erika Laltiery, was like slowly continuing to kill her soul.

  She disguised the anxiety attack by leaning slightly against the open carriage door. She smiled in that soft way that had been burned into her brain since childhood and followed the butler who guided her inside the mansion, to the room where her hostess waited.

  After a few minutes of polite and meaningless conversation, Faith asked her to be her eyes and hands—to make Bianca L’Crom’s life impossible and report any relevant information she could find out about her.

  The first thing Erika felt was sadness. She realized Faith didn’t know her at all despite the years they’d been friends. Then, the chains tightened further as she had to navigate the complicated waters of high society without offending the future queen; because if she said something inappropriate, it wouldn’t be her, Erika, who offended her, but her entire ducal house.

  “Dear Faith,” she replied with the familiarity their childhood friendship allowed, “of course you can count on me; I’ll always be pleased to help you. However, we’re talking about the second prince’s fiancée. You understand that might make the task you’re entrusting to me difficult.”

  “I know. That engagement was sudden. My sister was supposed to be the one engaged to Prince Vincent.”

  “And is that why you want her watched? Would you like that engagement broken?”

  “Well, the engagement itself doesn’t matter to me. It’s a reality check for my sister, who lately has been too—I’m not quite sure how to put it without sounding inappropriate—let’s say she seemed not to understand her position as my younger sister.”

  “I understand,” Erika nodded.

  Of course she understood. Faith didn’t want Sol to marry Vincent and, with how competitive Sol had become toward her sister, she might try to become queen herself, plotting some scheme against the crown prince.

  Erika didn’t see Sol as capable of that; she thought she hadn’t rotted that much—at least, not yet. Not enough for plotting and certainly not for accidental murder. Because there had been quite a few horse riding falls that killed heirs in the kingdoms’ history.

  “However,” Faith continued after taking a sip of tea with manners as exquisite as Erika’s, “I believe the daughter of the L’Crom counts is not a good match for the second prince. Not if she’s offended my fiancé.”

  “What are you saying?” Erika brought her fingers gently to her lips, in a controlled gesture meant to show how horrified she supposedly was to hear it and, also, her support for Faith.

  “I know it’s hard to believe, but she’s done something to him. The worst part is my fiancé doesn’t want to talk about it, not even with me.”

  “I’m so sorry, Faith. Don’t worry, if I see any inappropriate behavior from Bianca, I’ll let you know. As well as anything having to do with your fiancé.”

  “Thank you so much, dear Erika. And don’t forget that, if you get the chance, try to make sure that girl’s life at the academy stops being so easy.”

  There she went again with that.

  For starters, Erika planned to very carefully review any information about Bianca she found out and passed to Faith. And she certainly had no intention of harassing her.

  Those petty behaviors, she’d seen them in both Faith and Sol. She’d never had them with anyone. She thought it was terrible that Faith was asking her for something like that. Even worse that she couldn’t refuse.

  “Since she’s a first-year student and I’m in my third year, we barely cross paths; but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you so much, I’m blessed to have friends as good and intelligent as you,” she smiled at her.

  Intelligent. Erika understood the veiled threat, a response to her attempt to make excuses.

  “Dear Faith, I’m the one who’s more than honored to call the future queen a friend.”

  Faith smiled, pleased, and took a pastry. Erika did the same. The conversation moved to other topics, like judging the dresses other girls wore to the last ball at the academy.

  It seemed that, after all, the chains had tightened even more and would continue choking her even there. Luckily, she always had the dungeons. It was a relief to know that Bianca L’Crom wasn’t in her party.