The library felt empty without Verita's pattering footsteps and hisses at nobles to stop running or violating the many rules of the library.

Roche had locked the doors. If the king tried knocking on them, she'd feed the man to Circe. She holed up in her chambers, snacking despondently on a hunk of bread as she flipped through several pages of her spellbook. There wasn't much information about the curse Circe had detailed, but from what Roche could understand, it was a powerful enchantment.

She'd need an especially strong reaction to pull the king out of the enchantment's thrall. Roche pinched the bridge of her nose. How was she going to explain this to the royals without revealing the very illegal spellbook and Striga in the library?

She stood, her joints popping loudly as she did so. She needed to figure out what would produce the strongest reaction in the king. He was quick to anger, but he'd been angered many times over the past few days without the enchantment breaking. Roche paced. There was hatred, but he'd fallen in love with what he hated most: inkblood.

That left despair, regret, and fear. Roche figured that there was no way the royal children would let their father be intimidated by anything, because apparently fear made Romulus look unkingly, so that left despair and regret.

Roche chewed her lip. She wasn't a huge fan of the king, considering that the man considered her existence to be against the laws of nature. This meant that Roche had no idea what would make such a cruel man despair.

Tigris was still out collecting taxes, which meant there was only one other person who could give Roche the answers she needed.

She placed a blank sheet of paper over the page from the spellbook. "Effier ol anneat," she hissed, watching the contents of the page ink themselves onto the blank sheet. Then, she pulled a cloak over her face and headed to the dungeons.

The knights weren't allowing any visitors considering that Verita was being tortured. Roche stood just out of sight, using her inkblood to make a stone skitter down the hall. One of the two guards on duty went to investigate the sound. Roche waited for him to step into the hall before she pressed a hand against one of the shadows warping in the flickering firelight.

"Uskoia mon kalid,"

The shadows leapt off the ground, wrapping around comfortingly Roche like a weighted blanket, concealing her from sight. She crouched, trying to match her motions to the tongues of flame dancing from the torches mounted on the walls.

The other guard waited in the room, alert now that his partner was gone. Roche prowled closer, feeling triumphant when her movements didn't garner any attention. When she was right beside the man, she placed a single finger to his temple and silently incanted, "Hyunid."

Before the man could spin around to investigate the touch, he was leaning back against the wall and snoring loudly.

Roche positioned him so that he wouldn't wake up with a crick in his neck before she crept into the dungeons. Somehow, the space seemed ever more dank and dark than when she'd last been there. She searched the many cells for her guardian's old, prone body, but she only found a few miscreants, the usual noisy drunks, bandits, and looters.

There was no sign of the elderly librarian.

Roche dreaded to think what that would mean.

She prowled deeper into the dungeons, noticing the cells becoming smaller and spread further apart. Tigris had negotiated Finn into solitary confinement. Perhaps he was somewhere in here.

The first cell she came across didn't have Finn, but another familiar face gazed back at her. Roche couldn't quite hold back her gasp.

"Verita?"

The elderly woman was sprawled out across the floor. Bruises marred her papery, wrinkled skin. One of her arms was cradled tightly to her chest, and she winced as she sat up, her hand drifting to her hip.

A single brown eye fluttered open, the other was too swollen to move.

"Roche?" Verita rasped. Roche's blood simmered at the sound of the hoarse voice. Had they strangled her too?

"Verita," Roche repeated, kneeling in front of the cell. The librarian squinted.

"I can't see you, child. I might have a concussion," she murmured, a withered finger tapping her bruised temples. Roche's blood roared in fury.

"You probably do," it was a fight to keep her voice steady, "But I'm using a concealment enchantment. Listen, I'm going to get you out of here, okay? Circe told me the enchantment on the king, I'm going to break it. You just need to hang on for a bit longer."

Verita pressed her lips together into a thin line, her eyes unfocused and hazy. "I'll try, child. But if the king tries something tomorrow, go to Leinos. He won't let any harm come to you."

"What about you?"

Verita's split lips twisted with what looked like a painful smile. "I'll be okay. What is it that you need to break the enchantment?"

Roche sensed that the librarian was changing the topic to assuage Roche's worry. Roche wanted to press for details about the treatment Verita had received in the cells, but she didn't have time to waste. There was no telling when the guards would awaken and do their rounds.

"I need to make the king feel despair or regret. Strongly. But I don't know how to do that."

Verita bit her lip. "There isn't much the king would despair about. He's become careful what he lends his heart to after losing the last queen. The only thing I could think of to produce such a powerful reaction would be if his children were harmed in some way."

Roche frowned. "He's hurt his children plenty over the past few days, and he's still in the throes of the enchantment."

"Yes, but those were minor pains. He'd need something major, like if one of his children were grievously harmed or killed."

"I can't kill or hurt them, Verita. I'm supposed to protect them." Roche mumbled.

Verita's single eye narrowed. "As much as I loathe to admit it, I don't know the king as well as I used to. Perhaps his children will have a better idea. Based on what you've told me, I expect that I'm not the only member of the royal court locked in here, am I?"

Roche gripped the bars tightly with her shadow fingers. "You're not. Finn's here too."

"I assume you came to visit him instead of a dying old crone," Verita joked with a huffed laugh, wincing when she agitated her side. Roche extended her hand, inkblood pouring through her fingers.

"Llanosus."

The inkblood curled around Verita, seeping into the many wounds and aches and pains. The librarian sighed in relief, sagging back against the walls of her cell as her wounds slowly began to heal.

Roche smiled. "Better?"

Verita's eyes fluttered slightly as she nodded. She seemed much more lucid and present when her eyes opened a moment later. "Not too much, Roche. The guards will get suspicious."

Roche reluctantly pulled back her inkblood, leaving some major bruises on the elderly woman's skin behind. Verita sat up straighter, the haze of pain gone from her eyes.

"I'll be fine, Roche. Go see Finn, you don't have time to waste."

Roche nodded, her throat clogging. "I'll see you soon, Verita. We'll get you out of here."

"I know you will," Verita replied with a proud smile.

Roche wished the librarian could see her face before she left, but she couldn't risk dropping the concealment enchantment. Instead, Roche slinked away, moving deeper into the solitary part of the dungeons.

It didn't take long before she found who she was looking for.

"Finn?" Roche hissed, tapping the bars to the cell. The youngest prince was slumped against the far wall of his cells, snoring loudly. Thankfully, he didn't seem injured, but Roche didn't have time to go through Kai's absurdly long wake up routine.

"Duroa!"

"GAH!" Finn shot upright, ice cold water dripping from his pale skin. He leapt to his feet with a cry, his eyes scanning the cell for danger. "Who's there?"

"It's me!"

Finn lowered his fists, cocking his head in confusion. "Roche?"

"Yes, it's me. I have a concealment charm."

Finn narrowed his eyes. "I know that my father's betrothed is an inkblood, which means she can mimic. Show me your face!"

Roche sighed, lowering the enchantment. Finn's fists uncurled, and he adjusted his dripping wet glasses.

"Oh thank the gods," he sighed, wringing out his wet hair with shaking fingers, "Is Tigris alright? Kai? Aodh?"

"They're all fine," Roche promised, kneeling in front of the cell, "We're trying to break the enchantment. I need your help."

Finn narrowed his eyes. "Where's Tigris?"

"Out doing your father's bidding. She's safe though, but I need a royal child's help." Roche leaned forward, "I need to know what would make your father despair?"

When Finn's eyes widened with confusion, Roche explained the logistics of the enchantment. The prince sat back, leaning his head against the wall.

"I'm not sure," he mumbled after a moment, "Something to do with Tigris, probably. There's little he treasures more than her. Aodh too."

"And you," Roche said after a chafing moment. Finn smiled ruefully.

"Sure," he replied flippantly, adjusting his glasses with a pale hand, "And me."

Roche chewed her lip. "Verita said as much. What could we do to you three to make the king despair?"

Finn's brows pushed together in thought. "I... don't know. But I might be able to find out."

"You have a book about this kind of curse?" Roche asked, surprise shooting through her. Where did the prince get an inkblood book?

Finn hesitated. "Not exactly. You'll see. I'll need to get out of this blasted cell."

"Leave that to me," Roche told him, "I can get you out now, if you wish."

Finn bit his lip. "I think Tigris and Aodh should be around too, don't you?"

"That's probably for the best," Roche agreed. Finn fidgeted, and she had to add, "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"No, you'll probably hate me for it but... it must be done. Bring everything you've found about the enchantment to me once I'm out of this cell." Finn murmured.

With that ominous note, Roche decided to leave the dungeons, promising Finn she'd break him out tonight. She made her way back to the library, barely closing the door before someone began to pound their fists against the library doors. Roche's heart jumped in her chest, and she slipped out into the shelves just outside the door.

"Library's closed!" she shouted, shielding her ears from the deafening banging, "Come back... er, later. I'm not sure when."

"Roche, it's me!" Kai's frantic voice permeated through the door, "Please, you need to come quickly! It's Tigris! The king– he's gone mad."

Roche was sprinting out the doors and following Kai down the halls before the man could say another word.

A/N: Oooh, what do you think the king has done? (Wrong answers only)

As always, happy reading!