Kennet only smirked in reply, and in a moment of desperation, Kasper charged at him. I was sure he meant to get the sword away from Kennet again, but that wasn’t what happened.

I was standing right behind Kasper, and I saw the sword come out his back—the sharp metal stained red as it poked out between his shoulder blades. The blood flowered out around it, darkening his white shirt.

Kennet’s face paled, and he let go of the sword, allowing Kasper to stagger back. I rushed over, catching him just as he began to fall and lowering him to the floor, but I kept my arm around his shoulders, holding him up so the blade wouldn’t move.

FORTY-FIVE

downfall

“It’ll be okay,” I said thickly, even though I didn’t believe it.

Kasper stared at me, his dark eyes uncomprehending. He moved his mouth as if he meant to say something, but nothing came out. And then, as I held him in my arms, Kasper took his last breath and his body went lax.

“It had to be done,” Kennet said in a low voice.

When I looked up at him, the only thing I felt was anger—a blinding rage I’d never experienced before. I knew I should try to control it, but just then, I didn’t want to.

I jumped and charged at Kennet. He tried to block my attack, but I was faster than him and I hit him in the face, the stomach, the arms—anywhere I could reach. He stepped back, trying to avoid the blows, and he wasn’t paying attention to his footing.

His fight with Kasper had left the rug rumpled, and he tripped on it and staggered back. I watched as he fell into the window. The glass didn’t shatter, but the locks that held them shut were old, and under his weight the French windows swung open.

Kennet started falling backward, and while I was tempted to let him just fall, I needed him alive. I needed to know who he was working for and what was happening, so Kasper’s death wouldn’t be entirely in vain.

I ran forward, and I was nearly too late. I leaned out the window, almost throwing myself after him to grab his hand. I gripped it as tightly as I could, holding Kennet as he dangled over five stories above the ground.

“Pull me up!” Kennet yelled, his voice cracking in terror. “I’m sorry for what I did! Just pull me up and I’ll do whatever you want!”

“Tell me who you’re working for!” I demanded.

“Just pull me up and I’ll tell you,” he insisted, and his eyes were wild with fear.

The truth was that I was trying to pull him, but my grip on him wasn’t good enough. I had to use one hand for balance, holding on to the windowsill so I wouldn’t tumble out with him. Both of my hands had Kasper’s blood on them, leaving them slick, and whenever I tried to lift Kennet, I felt him slipping away.

“Tell me first,” I said, trying to pretend like this was my idea and I wasn’t losing him.

“Bryn, please!” Kennet begged. “I’m sorry! Just help me!”

And I wanted to. As much as I hated Kennet, I wanted him to live so he could pay for what he’d done. But I couldn’t hang on.

His hand slipped from my grasp, and he fell to the ground, screaming all the way until he hit the cobblestone courtyard below. I looked away so I didn’t have to see the mess he’d become.

I turned back to the room, with the open windows letting in an icy wind behind me. Kasper lay on the floor. I didn’t want to just leave him here like this, but I didn’t know what I could do.

His eyes were still open, staring up at the ceiling, so I crouched down next to him and closed them gently.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered around the lump in my throat.

Kennet had made a lot of noise as he fell, so it wouldn’t be long before guards found their way up here to investigate what had happened.

I grabbed a chair and pushed it up against the door, propping it underneath the handle so they’d have a little more fight before they could get in. I went into the bathroom and washed the blood off my hands, trying not to think about where the blood had come from.

The Högdragen would be on the lookout for me, and one thing I’d learned from growing up in Doldastam was that my blond hair made me stand out like a sore thumb. I needed to cover up.

I ran over to the wardrobe and grabbed the parka, then I jumped back into the dumbwaiter and prepared to make my escape.

FORTY-SIX

exile

“Yes, sir. I understand. Of course, sir,” Ridley was saying into his cell phone. “I will.”

He stood in the living room, his back to me. He still wore the Överste uniform with the silver epaulets on the shoulder. When he hung up the phone, he ran a hand through his hair and let out a heavy sigh.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“Holy crap, Bryn!” Ridley turned around to face me, and his surprise was immediately replaced by relief as he rushed over to me. “What are you doing here?”

“Your back door was unlocked.” I motioned to it behind me.

He pushed back the hood of the parka so he could see me more clearly, and he grimaced when he saw my eye, which had to be blackening by now. “Oh, Bryn.”

“How bad is it?”

“I’m not sure if you’re asking about your eye or the situation,” he said. “But the situation is not good. I just got home from work, and the head of the Högdragen called to tell me that you’d been arrested for treason, escaped from prison, and then murdered Kasper Abbott and the Skojare Prince before going on the run again.”

“It’s not like that.” I shook my head. “I never hurt Kasper, and I even told him he shouldn’t come with me. Because Tilda—”