Isadora's POV
I watched them drag Marcus toward the East Tower and forced myself not to scream.
The moment they turned the corner, I spun on my heel and ran the opposite direction. My mind raced faster than my feet.
The East Tower. They were taking him to the East Tower.
That's where my father spent his last night before execution. That's where prisoners went when the Covenant wanted them dead quietly.
I had maybe twelve hours before they staged Marcus's "suicide." Maybe less.
My hands shook as I rushed through the palace corridors. Servants pressed against walls, staring. Let them stare. Let them whisper. I had bigger problems.
A dead gangster from another world just threatened the most powerful secret organization in the kingdom. And somehow, impossibly, I believed him.
Maybe I was going crazy. Maybe grief over Aurelius made me desperate enough to trust a stranger wearing my friend's face.
But those eyes. Marcus's eyes. They weren't Aurelius's soft, kind eyes. They were hard. Calculating. Predator's eyes.
And when he talked about destroying the Council, I heard truth. Not bravado. Truth.
I reached my chambers and slammed the door. Locked it. Drew the curtains.
Then I pulled out the hidden box under my floorboards.
Six years of investigation. Six years of collecting evidence against the Covenant. Names. Dates. Connections. All useless because I had no proof that would hold up in court—just conspiracy theories from a disgraced noble's daughter.
But now I had something new. A wild card. A man with nothing to lose.
A knock on my door made me jump.
"My lady?" A servant's voice. Young. Female. "Lord Greymont requests your presence—"
"Tell Lord Greymont I'm indisposed."
"He insists—"
"I said no." I shoved the box back under the floorboards. "I'll see him tomorrow."
Silence. Then footsteps retreating.
I waited five minutes. Ten. Making sure no one was listening at the door.
Then I changed clothes. Servant's dress. Plain. Forgettable. Tied my hair back. Rubbed dirt on my face.
Looking like a noble got you noticed. Looking like a maid made you invisible.
I slipped out through my private passage—a servant's corridor most nobles didn't know existed. The palace was full of them if you knew where to look.
I needed allies. Fast.
The kitchen was my first stop. Cook Mariam ruled that domain like a general commanded armies. Nothing happened in the palace without her knowing.
I found her kneading bread, flour up to her elbows.
"Mariam," I whispered.
She looked up, startled. Then recognition flickered. "Lady Thorne? What are you—"
"I need information. About the Prince."
Her face closed off. "I don't gossip about the royal family."
"This isn't gossip. It's life or death." I moved closer. "Please. You knew my father. He helped your son get apprenticed at the blacksmith."
Mariam's hands stilled. She glanced around, making sure we were alone.
"What do you want to know?"
"The guards who took Prince Aurelius to the East Tower. Did you recognize any of them?"
She thought. "Three were regular palace guards. Lord Greymont's men. But the fourth... young one. Dark hair. That was Dante Cross."
My heart skipped. "Dante? The guard captain from Lowtown?"
"The same. Odd choice. He's not usually assigned to royal duties. The nobles don't trust common blood near the Prince."
But Marcus said he already had an ally among the guards. One who signaled him.
Dante.
How? Marcus had been in this world for three hours. How did he already recruit someone?
Unless...
"Mariam, did anything unusual happen this morning? Before the Council meeting?"
She frowned. "Now that you mention it... the Prince sent for Dante. Private meeting. Lasted maybe ten minutes. The other guards were furious—said a Lowtown rat had no business alone with royalty."
"What did they talk about?"
"No idea. But Dante came out looking... different. Determined. Like he'd made some kind of decision."
Ten minutes. Marcus had ten minutes with a guard and turned him into an ally.
That wasn't luck. That was skill.
"One more question," I said. "The East Tower. How many guards?"
"Six. All Covenant men. They rotate every four hours." Mariam's voice dropped. "Lady Thorne, whatever you're planning—"
"I'm not planning anything." Lie. "Just concerned for the Prince's wellbeing."
She didn't believe me. But she didn't stop me either.
I left through the kitchen's back door, mind spinning.
Six guards. Four-hour rotations. One ally inside—maybe.
I needed more help. But who could I trust?
A hand grabbed my arm, yanking me into an alcove.
I spun, dagger out, blade at my attacker's throat.
Dante raised his hands. "Easy, Lady Thorne. I'm here to help."
"Help?" I kept the blade steady. "You just dragged the Prince to his execution."
"Had to. Greymont was watching. But I slipped him a message." Dante pulled out a scrap of paper. "He wrote this. Told me to give it to you."
I snatched the paper. Marcus's handwriting—messy, rushed:
"Isadora—Trust Dante. I recruited him this morning. Long story. Need three things: map of East Tower, servant uniforms for two people, and a distraction at midnight. Also, do you know where they keep weapons? Preferably something sharp. —M"
I stared at the note. "He recruited you? How?"
Dante smiled grimly. "He knew things. About Lowtown. About how the nobles treat us. About my sister." His face darkened. "Lord Greymont's son... did things to her. The Prince—Marcus—said if I helped him, he'd make sure Greymont's entire family paid for it. Every. Single. One."
"And you believed him?"
"Lady Thorne, I watched him threaten the entire Council without blinking. Yeah. I believed him." Dante leaned closer. "He's not like other nobles. He sees us. Really sees us. Like we're human, not furniture."
My throat tightened. That sounded like Aurelius. The real Aurelius.
Maybe some part of my friend survived in that body after all.
"Can you get him those things?" Dante pressed. "The map, uniforms, distraction?"
I thought fast. "The map, yes. I've studied the East Tower. Uniforms are easy—laundry room. But a distraction big enough to pull six guards..."
"Leave that to me," Dante said. "I have friends in Lowtown. We can stage something. A fight maybe. Or a fire."
"Nothing that hurts innocent people."
"Agreed." He checked over his shoulder. "But we need to move fast. Greymont ordered me to report back in an hour. If I'm late, he'll get suspicious."
"Wait." I grabbed his arm. "Why are you really doing this? You don't know Marcus. Don't owe him anything."
Dante met my eyes. Steady. Certain. "Because for ten years, I've watched the Covenant destroy good people. My sister. Your father. Prince Aurelius. And I'm tired of being powerless." He straightened. "Marcus said he's going to burn them down. I'm choosing to believe him."
He turned to leave.
"Dante?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
He nodded and disappeared into the shadows.
I stood there, holding Marcus's note, my mind reeling.
A dead mob boss. A Lowtown guard. And a disgraced noble's daughter.
Against the Covenant.
We were going to die.
But maybe, just maybe, we'd take some of them with us.
I hurried back to my chambers to prepare. Map. Uniforms. Plans.
I was halfway there when I saw her.
Princess Evangeline. Standing in the hallway like she'd been waiting for me.
Beautiful. Smiling. Deadly.
"Lady Thorne," she said sweetly. "How lovely to run into you. We need to talk about Prince Aurelius."
My blood turned to ice.
"What about him?"
She stepped closer. Too close. "You care about him. I can see it. So here's some friendly advice—stop."
"Excuse me?"
"Aurelius is sick. Delusional. Dangerous to himself." Her smile never wavered. "The kindest thing you can do is let the physicians help him. Quietly. In the East Tower."
She knew. She knew we were planning something.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't you?" Evangeline's eyes gleamed. "I saw you in the kitchen. Talking to Mariam. Then meeting with Guard Dante in that alcove. You're planning a rescue."
How? How did she know?
"Do it," Evangeline whispered, "and I'll have your head on a spike by dawn. The Covenant doesn't tolerate interference."
She walked away, humming softly.
I stood frozen.
She was watching us. Following us. Knew our every move.
How could we save Marcus if they saw everything coming?
My hand crumpled the note.
Then I noticed something. Something that made my heart stop.
The signature. Marcus signed it "M."
But when Evangeline mentioned his name just now, she called him Aurelius.
She didn't know. She thought we were rescuing the Prince.
She didn't know about Marcus. About the switch. About who really wore that body.
That was our advantage.
The only one we had.
I smiled in the empty hallway.
Time to see what a dead gangster could really do.