CLARABEL’S POV

Monica’s spell was starting to crack around the edges.

It showed in the shadows first. When the noon sun hit the windows, Mary’s shadow on the floor didn't match her body. It stretched out too long, narrow and bent like a dead branch, even when she stood perfectly still.

In the nursery, Kaedryn sat at his small low table, kicking his feet against the legs. He was tired of being kept inside the room for two days. His small wooden soldiers were lined up across the pine wood, ready for a battle he wasn't in the mood to play.

"Eat your soup, little lord," Mary said. Her voice...