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too?”
    “Of course, especially after your rather dramatic entrance today.” He grinned at her, and Isabel’s lips started to curl upward in response. Then Clarisse snorted, his smile died, and Isabel pressed her mouth into a straight line. “But we don’t have to confirm them until we know…until you’ve had a chance to grow accustomed to the court.” Isabel wondered if he truly thought she couldn’t tell he was lying. She only wished she knew what he was lying about. “Isabel is a common enough name. We’ll say you’re from the Green Islands, one of those merchant’s daughters whose father bought his way into the nobility. There are so many of them that no one can keep them straight.”
    Isabel nodded, then walked past him and Clarisse to take a seat on the plush wooden bench near the fireplace. Some of the tension had drained from the room—or from her—and she was getting tired of standing. As she sank into the cushion, though, she remembered something else. “What about the bracelet?”
    The royal siblings exchanged another look she couldn’t decipher. Were they afraid she was going to ask them to take it off? The bracelet felt comforting circling her wrist, the tiny, cool crystals rubbing against her skin.
    “Nobody outside of the royal family knows about the Shifter’s Seal,” Rokan said. “It won’t give you away. Many of the women at court wear jewels, so you won’t stand out. I’m afraid you’ll have to wear gowns, too—”
    “Oh, no,” Isabel said sharply. “I won’t wear a skirt I can’t walk in.”
    For a moment Rokan seemed startled. Then he laughed. “Oh, those aren’t in style anymore. Women haven’t worn straight skirts for years. They’re all sort of—you know—flowy. Like Clarisse’s.”
    Clarisse lifted one leg to demonstrate. Her gown was more slinky than anything else, but clearly she could move in it. Not the most practical garment for fighting in, but Isabel could manage if she had to. She nodded, careful not to let anything but resignation show on her face.
    Don’t you remember me? Clarisse had said. If both she and Rokan had been just children when the Shifter left, Isabel couldn’t possibly have recognized her on sight. But Isabel had reacted like it was a normal question, revealing how little she knew about her own past. Clarisse had smiled because she had discovered that Isabel didn’t remember.
    “Fine,” Rokan said. He straightened, and for a moment—with his chin thrust out and his short purple cloak flung back over his doublet—he was every inch a prince. “I’m glad you’re here. I want to be a good king, and you can help me. Your wisdom is legendary.”
    Isabel smiled thinly, wondering if Rokan had sent Clarisse to ask the question. She had been right to trust her instincts and not reveal the depths of her ignorance. Little as she knew about Rokan, she was already sure he had not called her here because he wanted guidance. If he had gone all the way to her woods on the small chance he might catch her, he’d had better reasons.
    Isabel met the prince’s gaze, glowing despite herself when he smiled at her. She lowered her eyes when he turned away, then raised them again to watch him go.
    She didn’t know who she was or what exactly she was doing here, but one thing was perfectly clear. His safety was the single most important thing in the world, and if she had to die to protect him, she would do it without thinking twice.
    But she was not a fool, and she didn’t trust him one single bit.

Chapter Three
     
    When Isabel got to her room later that night, the high sorcerer was waiting outside her door.
    She stopped several yards away from him in the dimly lit corridor. Annoyance flickered over his face as she regarded him warily, and after a second she realized why: he was invisible. She could sense the wavering outlines of the invisibility spell, like transparent flames cloaking his body, as easily as she could see him. He seemed to be a young