Theo was gone. She sucked in a breath and stepped back from the door. He was gone, and even if he were there, she had no proof that it belonged to her mother. There had to be hundreds of women who owned pieces of clothing in that print, and Theo would likely tell her as much.

Amalie whirled, retracing her steps and stopping in front of her door. What did it matter even if it was her mother’s? She already believed he’d killed her, so what more did this tie prove?That he’d brought her here? That he’d done to her exactly what he was doing to her now?

She needed more information, and she needed to find it herself. Not from Theo's silver tongue or her uncle's guarded one. She couldn't believe what either of them said because, for reasons she didn’t understand, even Oren was hiding things.

Amalie needed to find proof, and she needed to see it with her own eyes. She turned to face the empty hall. The vampires would most likely be sleeping.What Theo didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

She crept forward and tied the swan fabric around her neck. Theo had led her by the neck to cover proof of his bite. Though the marks were fading, she'd be stupid to walk around with it showing now.

Theo had also said her blood was masked. As long as she didn’t cut herself, there would be no reason for any vampire to be suspicious of her, especially not when Theo had made it clear that she was his. Amalie shivered at that, disgusted that she’d gone along with his suggestion.

Colors splashed across the floor from the oval stained glass that faced the sun on the other end of the hall. Though she’d walked here with Theo, she’d been distracted and didn’t remember which direction they’d come from the front steps.

Left. She didn’t question it and turned right instead. The castle was eerily silent, and Amalie wished for gusts of wind against the walls to hide the brush of her sore feet against the stone floors. At least one piece of the legends seemed to be true.

She came to what looked like an open common room and paused in an alcove, craning her neck to see if it was empty. She waited and listened. When she was sure she heard nothing, she peeled herself off the stone and padded forward, keeping to the wall as she entered the room.

The room was so large, it made the furniture seem sparse. Tapestries hung on the wall, freshly cut firewood sat stacked next to the hearth, and an array of canapes and chaises were available for seating. It was informal but cozy.

Her eyes snagged on a bookshelf along the back wall. She strode forward, feeling more exposed than a deer in the middle of a clearing. Her pulse quickened as she began to read the titles.Le Comte de Monte-Cristo. Madame Bovary. La Chartreuse de Parme.They seemed to be fiction, mostly, along with maps and encyclopedias. She crouched to look at the next row, when a gasp sounded behind her.

Amalie whipped around, then released a breath when she saw Henriette staring at her.

“Oh, Miss Amalie. I thought—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Henriette bobbed and walked with purpose toward the fireplace. “Just ‘ere to warm the room.”

Amalie clasped her hands in front of her, still working to settle her heart. “Do you do this in every room?” As soon as she asked the question, she remembered what Henriette had told her as she drew her bath. “But only in this wing?”

Henriette smiled. “Yes. I have seven fires I start in common areas and six more in the bedrooms. I’ll start yours in just a few moments.”

Amalie blinked. There were that many rooms in one wing of the castle? “Thank you.”

Henriette stacked another log and looked up. “I don’t mean to be rude, but Master Vallon told me you shouldn’t leave your room . . .”

“I know. I was just—I needed to stretch my legs.” Amalie gave a small smile.

Henriette’s eyes flicked to the books she’d been inspecting. “Do you need more? I can find more titles if you tell me what you’re interested in reading.”

Amalie laughed. “No, I haven’t even gotten through the ones in my room.”

Henriette nodded. “Then I would listen to Master Vallon. He knows the house best.” Her eyes dropped, and she resumed her task.

The house or the creatures in it?

“Right.” Amalie pursed her lips. “But if I wanted to take a quick peek at the library?”

Henriette frowned. “It’s too far, miss. In the east wing.”

East. Her room was in the north. “So this hall, I’d have to follow it from here to the right?”

“Yes, at first. Then down the steps and back to the left.” Henriette looked up. Her eyes wide. “But don’t tell Master Vallon I told you that.”

Amalie smiled. “Of course not. I was just curious. I’m sure he would’ve told me had I thought to ask.”

“When you’re ready, make a list and I’ll gather more books.” Henriette nodded as if convincing herself that Amalie was going to be perfectly obedient.

“I will. Thank you.” She turned and strode back to the hall, her face flushed. She’d hoped to walk more than twenty paces before being caught by the woman drawing her baths, but at least now she had direction.

Light still poured through the window.She had time, didn’t she?