“Are they locked up in some magical vault?” said Hanne.

“Or maybe in the prison sector,” added Nina. Now, that would be glorious. Nina knew the plan of the prison inside and out.

The prince shook his head. “The prison had a security breach a while back, though no one likes to talk about it. No, your dear papa has taken on the duty of guarding Queen Tatiana’s letters. Of course no one else would be trusted with the task.”

Could they possibly be under the very roof Nina slept beneath? “Then—”

“They’ve been neatly tucked away in the drüskelle sector. I haven’t gotten so much as a peek at them. I hear they’re very racy. Maybe Joran will sneak a look and memorize some juicy passages for us.”

The drüskelle sector. The most secure, unbreachable part of the Ice Court, crowded with witchhunters and wolves trained to hunt Grisha.

Nina sighed and reached for a piece of rye toast. Since she seemed to be headed for utter calamity, she might as well enjoy the food.

* * *

Hanne didn’t even wait for them to be behind closed doors before she whispered furiously, “I know what you’re going to do. You cannot break into the drüskelle sector.”

Nina kept a smile on her face as they headed into the little conservatory in the Brum family quarters. “I can. And you have to help me.”

“Then let me go with you.”

“Absolutely not. I only need you to draw me a plan, talk me through the security protocols. Your father must have brought you there.”

“Women aren’t permitted in that sector of the Ice Court, not inside the buildings.”

“Hanne,” Nina said disbelievingly. “Not even when you were a child?”

“If you’re caught there—”

“I won’t be. This is my chance to help stop a war. If Fjerda doesn’t have those letters, the case for deposing King Nikolai will crumble.”

“You think that’s enough to stop my father?”

“No,” Nina admitted. “But it will mean greater support for Nikolai from Ravka’s nobility. It will be one less thing for him to overcome.”

“Even if I drew you a plan, how would you get inside? The only entrance to the drüskelle sector is through the gate in the ringwall, and they added additional security after the prison break two years ago.”

Hanne had a point. Nina would have to leave the Ice Court entirely and then reenter through the heavily armed gate that led to the kennels and the witchhunters’ training rooms and quarters.

“You’re telling me your father leaves the Ice Court every time he needs to see his troops? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“There’s another way, but it means crossing the moat. It’s only ever used at Hringkälla initiation and during emergencies. Someone on the inside would have to let you in. Not even I know how it’s done.”

The secret path. Matthias and Kaz had used it during the Ice Court heist, but it left anyone trying to cross the ice moat badly exposed. Nina looked out at the buildings of the White Island, the glowing face of the Elderclock.

“Then I’ll have to go out before I can get back in. On the day of the royal hunt.” That would give Nina two days to make this work. A plan had already started to take shape in her mind. She’d need to signal the Hringsa and request a bottle of scent from the gardener.

Hanne groaned. “I was hoping we could make an excuse to get out of that.”

“I thought you’d leap at the chance to ride again.”

“Sidesaddle? In pursuit of some poor stag no one intends to eat so some podge can put his antlers on a wall?”

“We can talk the prince into giving the meat to the poor. And think of sidesaddle as … a challenge?”

Hanne cut her a withering glance. The parties and balls and constant social interaction of Heartwood had exhausted her, but they just made Nina feel more alive. She liked dressing up with Hanne, she liked the whirl of people, and she finally felt like she was positioned to garner the intelligence she needed.

The prince’s favor would ensure that they were invited to all the best parties, and she’d been able to eavesdrop on Brum’s conversation with Redvin for most of the previous night as they dined on smoked eel and braised leeks and discussed plans for some new weapon. Being Mila Jandersdat had made her nearly invisible—a young widow of no consequence, not very bright or well informed, happy to shadow her mistress—to everyone but the queen. Queen Agathe watched Nina from every corner of every ballroom. She had been pious before, visiting the Chapel of the Wellspring each morning and night to pray to Djel for her son’s health. But since Rasmus had begun to improve, she’d become even more devout. A good first step.

“We don’t have to go on the hunt,” said Nina. “We just need to get outside and then talk your father into taking us into the drüskelle sector.”

“He won’t do it! Women aren’t permitted there.”

“Not even to see the kennels?”

Hanne hesitated. “I know he’s brought my mother to see the wolves.”

“And you’ve been inside.”

“I told you, it was years ago.”

“You liked going with him, didn’t you?” A little Grisha girl who didn’t even know what she was, following her father the witchhunter to work.

“I liked any chance to be with him. He was … he was fun.”

“Jarl Brum?”

“When I was very little. And then … he didn’t change exactly. He’d always been stern, but … Have you ever seen a petrified forest? The trees are still trees, but they don’t bend to the wind. They have no leaves to rustle. He was the mighty Commander Brum, unyielding, the ruthless witchhunter, Fjerda’s scythe. The more he sopped up their praise, the less like my father he became.”

It’s Fjerda, Nina thought, not for the first time. She had no mercy for Jarl Brum, no matter who he’d been as a young father. But she understood that all of this hadn’t begun with him and it wouldn’t end with him either. Fjerda with its hard ways and its old hatreds filled men with shame and anger. It made the weak weaker and the strong cruel.

“Can you draw me a plan of the drüskelle buildings?”

Hanne huffed a breath. “This may be the worst idea you’ve ever had.”