Cel leaned in. “Mari is still out?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” the mousefolk replied, her voice characteristically quiet. Mousy brown hair fluffed around two cute, round ears, her nose and eyes black buttons amidst the fur. She glanced at Mouse, hovering in the background. “My apologies. Milady is in no mood to take visitors.”

“Understandable. If Mari wakes up, please come by milady’s rooms. Dayander will alert us to your arrival.”

The mousefolk nodded. She glanced at Mouse again, then leaned in. “It’s a shame, all this business.”

Mouse’s ears twitched, angling to pick up the mousefolk’s voice.

“A shame, just a shame. Milady and Brittany were so beautiful together. What a pity, a real pity.”

“Yes?” Cel prompted.

The mousefolk nodded. “T’was a dark and stormy night, you understand. Brittany and milady were traveling through an apple orchard—the same in which they met. And these bandits, horrible bandits… oh, a terrible coincidence, just awful. They were lying in wait for another caravan, but when they saw Brittany…” She sighed heavily and shook her head. “The fighting, oh, the fighting. Blood, everywhere. Brittany and milady fought honorably, but the bandits… not at all. A whole volley of arrows—Brittany stopped them, but she didn’t see the bandit hiding behind the tree until he was almost on top of them. There was no time for magic. By the time she saw the knife… far too late. All she could do was jump, and… Brittany took the knife for milady.”

The mousefolk shook her head. “I don’t know if it’s fortunate or unfortunate that the caravan the bandits were waiting for was the caravan of the undead king. Seeing milady standing over Brittany… he offered to save Brittany. Milady said yes. How could she have known? That he was the vampire king. That her Brittany would never be the same.”

“Danica!” Clarita called.

The mousefolk jumped. Her fluffy brown hair bounced with her, fluffing with a life of its own. “Oh dear, I must be going. I will let you know, yes. Please, I have to believe in Brittany. For milady’s broken heart.”

Cel and Mouse watched as the mousefolk ran off, long tail flicking the door shut behind her. Cel glanced at Mouse. “Well, no leads there.”

“Hmm… unfortunately, it doesn’t seem so.” Mouse put a hand to his chin, then shrugged. “Let’s go see Brittany’s rooms. Perhaps there’ll be clues there.”

Cel gestured, and he led the way.

Halfway down the hallway to Brittany’s room, an armoire rushed at Mouse, seemingly animated on its own. Mouse pressed himself against the wall and narrowly dodged. A pale, translucent figure, gripping the furniture tight, nodded as it rushed by.

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Mouse furrowed his brows. What’s all this about?

Brittany’s rooms were a hive of activity. Undead rushed in and out, carrying luggage and furniture. Mouse slipped inside, confused. He reached out and grabbed a passing zombie. “What’s all this about?”

The zombie groaned and pointed. He turned to find Achlys standing at one of the built-in wardrobes, loading hats into boxes.

“Thank you.”

The zombie groaned again and shuffled off.

Mouse walked over, a polite smile on his face. “Excuse me? Achlys? What’s all this about?”

“Brittany’s going to cause a mess. We have to be ready to go,” Achlys snapped, still stuffing hats away.

Mouse frowned. I mean, she said she would, but… “Why are you so sure about that?”

“I know Brittany. She’s rash, thoughtless, a mindless storm of stupidity and—” She turned and found Mouse, and the sentence died on her tongue. “Princess Moussaesa! I had no idea.”

“No, no, please,” Mouse said, waving his hand.

“I’m concerned that Brittany might act out, understandably. I don’t want to have to abandon all our heirlooms when she does. With luck, we’ll be putting it all back tomorrow.”

“With luck,” Mouse replied.

Achlys bowed to him. “Then, if you’ll excuse me.”

Mouse backed away. Something feels wrong. I don’t know what, but something’s off.

As he walked out, one of the undead came up to him, a slender, gray-skinned man with patchwork skin and one arm longer than the other. As he drew closer, Mouse’s eyes widened. That style of braid. The beads in his hairtie. The scar across the bridge of his nose. “Baraeon?”

The moon-elf zombie paused. “Your Highness, have we met?”

Shit! Right, we met in the army. He wouldn’t know Moss! “No, no, I… my brother told me much about your exploits.”

“Enough to recognize me, even like this?” Baraeon laughed, gesturing at himself.

“Ah, he pointed you out of a crowd once,” Mouse excused himself.

Baraeon smiled. “It is good to meet one of my own race who doesn’t immediately shy away. Even if my memories of life are faint, I still treasure them.”

“Of course,” Mouse replied, giving him a nod.

Baraeon took a deep breath and glanced at Achlys. “Please forgive her. She has some bad blood with Brittany.”

“Bad blood?” Mouse asked.

“Yes. Achlys is the rarest of rare—a child born of two vampires. She was in line to be blooded by the king and received as the next princess, after the unfortunate death of one of the elder princesses. When the king stumbled across Brittany and blooded her on a whim…” Baraeon bit his lip. “Ah, Achlys and her family did not take it well.”

Mouse nodded slowly. His eyes lit up. It’s all coming together. I think I understand now. He gestured for Baraeon to lean in. “Do you know? I went to see Brittany just before I came here.”

“Yes?” Baraeon asked.

Mouse shrugged. “She seemed perfectly content to sit it out in prison. No intention to break out at all. She maintains that she’s innocent. She’s just waiting for the rogue biter to strike again, to prove it wasn’t her.”

“That… doesn’t sound like Brittany.”

“What can I say? I think she just wants to prove her innocence. Being all stubborn about it. Although… she was concerned about Clarita.”

Baraeon furrowed his brows. “What, that the biter would attack Clarita?”

“Well, they did attack her attendant. It’s a bit too close for comfort, or so she said,” Mouse replied, putting his hands up helplessly. “You know how those two are about each other.”

Baraeon frowned. “Hmm… well, thank you. I’ll let Achlys know.”

“Of course. Happy to help.” Mouse nodded and smiled, then backed away.

At the door, Cel glanced at Mouse. “That’s not what Brittany said at all.”

Mouse grinned. “Oh, I know. Come on, we’ve got preparations to make.”