“I saw her trying to get the princess out.” The words struck like a blade. The princess. Me. I staggered back, my shoulder colliding with someone behind me as a memory slammed into me. A flicker of movement, a hand grasping mine, a voice whispering “Run.” A voice I hadn’t recognized before. A voice that had been hers. Dacre turned toward me, his breath shallow, his hands trembling at his sides. “Verena—” But I barely heard him because I remembered. I remembered running. I remembered guards shouting, the palace halls blurring past me. I remembered a woman, dark hair, brown eyes with a hint of
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Oh My gosh
