The month in Châtelet slips by in a blur of velvet and shadows. The endless night becomes a second skin. Ruby leans back in the study chair, the ticking of her Pocket Chronometer the only pulse in the room.

Her fingers trace the gold-leafed spines on the shelves. She finished every one of Princess Ronal's novels. Now, she cross-references the yellowed diaries with the romance chapters, matching dates to the ink-stained drama.

One unfinished story describes a grand wedding. A human bride in white walks toward a prince with eyes like rubies. Ruby looks out the window. The moon is a silver coin, bloating larger in the black void every night.

The ceremony is coming.

Her hand brushes the base of the wooden lamp on the desk. She recalls a scene from Ronal's third book—the heroine hiding a blade in the same spot. Ruby grips the heavy timber and shakes it.

A metallic thud echoes inside. She pries the base loose with a pen tip. A silver dagger clatters onto the mahogany, its blade etched with ancient, twisting patterns.

The cold metal bites into her palm. Her shoulders drop an inch as she slides the weapon into her waistband. She hides it back in the lamp, just in case.

She turns to Ronal's final diary entry. It describes a door. A way back to the Kingdom of Aurelia.

The ink describes a group of vampire children playing near the tall grass. They press a hidden switch beneath the crawling vines. A seam opens in the stone wall, and they vanish into the light.

"If I were younger, I would have walked through," the diary reads.

Ruby's eyes track the map of the palace. The tall grass sits somewhere between the Moon Archway and the Great Hall. A plan takes root in the dark.

She prepares for a night mission. She slides the silver dagger into her belt. She grips the blood-soaked silk Dion gave her, the scent of the Prince masking her own.

She pulls her black hair into a tight, high tail—the same way she did before riding in Aurelia.

She slips past the heavy oak doors. Her boots are silent on the stone of the Rose Gallery. She hugs the shadows, her gaze scanning the courtyard for the patch of tall grass.

The corridors are empty, but the grass remains a ghost. She drags herself back to the suite as the first hint of grey hits the sky. Her eyelids are lead weights.

Sharp raps hit the wood before she can close her eyes. Maids wheel in the breakfast cart, their faces masks of clinical duty.

"The Lunar Prayer ritual begins at midnight, Princess," the lead maid says. "You must dress."

Ruby's eyes snap wide. "The Hall? Here in Solara Palace?"

The maid nods, her movement stiff and rehearsed.

Ruby sits through four hours of brushes and combs. A gown of lake-blue silk hangs on the steel frame. Diamonds catch the lanterns like moonlit water.

The blue veil falls over her face. Diamond chains snap tight behind her ears. Ruby stands, a shimmering light in the center of the dark palace, and walks toward the ceremony.

The Great Hall sat at the very peak of the palace. The maids shoved Ruby into a small, transparent box. Seven bodies pressed together in the cramped space. One maid reached for the heavy iron lever on the wall.

She pulled. The floor lurched... the world dropped. Ruby's hand shot out, anchoring herself to the side rail. The box floated upward through the center of the stone tower.

"Princess... the Moving Box is perfectly safe," the maid said. Ruby didn't answer. She looked through the glass. Ten stories of empty air stretched below her.

She lunged for the maid's arm, gripping the silk sleeve like a drowning woman. The vampire stiffened but held her ground. The mechanism hissed to a stop at the summit.

The doors slid open. Ruby stepped onto the stone, her knees buckling like wet paper. She kept her weight on the maid's shoulder to avoid hitting the floor.

Magic was one thing. This level of engineering was another. "At least they're still bad at math," she muttered under her breath.

"This way." The maid gestured toward the Sky Bridge. A double line of guards stood with silver swords drawn.

Midnight hit the glass. The moon over Châtelet was a massive, glowing orb... twice the size of the one in the Kingdom of Aurelia. The light washed the Sky Bridge in bone-white.

At the end of the bridge, the Great White Jade doors groaned open. Ruby stopped. Stained glass windows arched toward the heavens, bleeding vibrant colors onto the marble floor.

A massive pipe organ bellowed, the sound vibrating in her chest. Every seat in the hall held a vampire in silk and lace. Hundreds of red eyes tracked her movement.

The blue veil over her face hid the jagged rhythm of her breathing. A figure in dark robes stepped forward. He held a smooth, black stone toward the moon and began a low, guttural chant.

Every vampire in the room bowed their head. Their eyelids fluttered shut. Some whispered the ancient words under their breath.

Ruby stood in the center of the aisle. The chanting stretched on... and on. Her jaw cracked as she fought back a heavy yawn.

She glanced toward the high thrones. King Alaric and Queen Bellaceline sat like statues, eyes closed in prayer. Beside them, Prince Brian remained perfectly still.

Ruby turned her head toward the right throne. Her heart skipped a beat. Dion Lancaster sat with his chin resting on his hand.

His ruby eyes were wide open. They locked onto hers, burning through the thin blue fabric of her veil.

Ruby's skin prickled. She snapped her head back, her gaze anchoring on her own hem. She didn't look up again.