Raven Coven was promised to a throne, but tonight she meant to break that promise. Her family had chosen her husband. She had chosen someone else, a man they had forbidden her to see. She turned the crown brooch over in her fingers and watched the two guards her mother posted at the garden gate. They watched her back. Every night this week she had tried to slip past them, and every night they had followed her into the trees. She could not marry the man she loved if she could never reach him alone. Tonight she tried something new. She left a lamp burning in her window and her riding coat draped over a chair, so from the garden it looked as if she were still awake and dressing. Then she went out the servants' door in a plain gray cloak. The guards saw the cloak move and started after her. She had counted on that. She led them toward the stables, then cut hard into the thorn hedge that wrapped the old orchard wall. The vines tore her sleeve. A thorn opened a red line across her wrist. But the guards were bigger, and the hedge held them where it let her through. She ran into the dark trees, bleeding and alone. A pale shape stood in the clearing ahead. A stag. Its coat gave off a soft light, like moonlight caught in stone, and its antlers rose clear and bright. It did not run. It looked at her, then turned and stepped deeper into the woods. Raven followed. She did not know why. The stag moved slow enough for her to keep pace, glowing just ahead, until the trees opened again. A small cottage sat in the hollow. Its roof sagged under moss. Warm lamplight showed in the round window. No path led to it, and no family watcher could know it stood here, because she had never known it herself. The stag stopped at the green door and waited. Raven pressed her hand to the wood. It swung open. Inside were two chairs, a cold hearth, and a table thick with dust. No one had come here in years. No one would think to look. She understood what she held. A room her family could not see. A place her lover could reach. When she turned to thank the stag, it was already walking back into the trees, its light fading between the trunks. Raven stood in the doorway and pressed a cloth to her bleeding wrist. She had her secret place at last. Now she had to get word to the man she loved, and bring him here without leading a single watcher to the door.