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My jaw drops. “A traitor? Is that what you think I am? Because of a merethoughtI had? I love this kingdom, love it more than anything else in the world—even you, Father. The idea that I could betray it is unthinkable.”

“A kingdom is nothing without its king, andI amthe king, and you chose to betray me.”

“I didnothing,” I hiss from between gritted teeth.

“No, but in time, you will.”

I shake my head in dismay. “So, you’re going to have your own son—your only offspring—executed for something he may possibly do in the future. I assume you won’t take my word that I’ll behave myself?”

He scoffs lightly at this. “When have you ever behaved yourself, Ruarok?”

The king has a point.

He carries on. “As much as I feel I will regret my choices, I can’t bring myself to have you hanged,” he says.

My heart catches, but not in a good way. I know what the alternative is. “If you’re going to banish me from Highdrift, then I’d prefer you hanged me. I have no wish to exist outside of our lands.”

Because existing is all I would be doing. The wild and wicked moorlands beyond our kingdom are desolate and barren. There’s no wood to burn for fire or heat, no way to cook our food. The lack of trees also means no shelter from the biting winds that strike across the moorland or the icy, lashing rain. And the lack of shelter or warmth or hot food isn’t even the worst thing about those lands. There are creatures far more fearsome than I am that prowl the moorland. Huge beasts with sleek, black fur and yellow eyes, and rows of teeth than can strip the flesh from a man—or a Fae—within seconds. When the dark falls out there, they move in silence, blending in with the black, so you’re dead and devoured before you even hear them coming.

In that moment, I hate both Queen Lorith and Princess Taelyn. If they never existed, I would not be facing this fate.

But to my surprise, the king shakes his head. “No, Ruarok. I will not banish you, either. If I were to banish you, there would always be the possibility of your return, and I cannot live in peace with that threat hanging over all our lives. We would never rest. I need to know exactly where you are.”

His words fill me with confusion. “Where are you going to put me? In the dungeons?”

“No, the dungeons wouldn’t contain you. All you would need to do is charm one of the guards and they would unlock the door just to be with you.”

Damn, my father knows meandmy magic too well.

“Where, then?” I ask.

“You’ll still be in the castle.”

I’m alarmed. “Where?”

He taps his staff to the floor, and the guards file back in. There are so many of them. I know their numbers are to prevent me from trying to escape. But even if I were to escape, where would I go? I can’t flee the kingdom and still expect to live any kind of life, and if I were to stay, it would only be a matter of time before I’m recognized. Hopelessness blooms within me.

The guards take hold of me again. There’s no point in fighting back. I know when I’ve lost. The metal of my cuffs clink as I’m dragged from the room. I wonder if that was the last time I’ll ever see my father.

I’m surprised at the jolt of pain that strikes through my heart. Had a tiny part of me held on to the hope that one day things might have been different between us?

That hope is crushed now.

The guards drag me through the castle to where the coil of stone steps leads down into the dungeons. I’mconfused. My father said I wasn’t going to be put in the dungeons, but that definitely seems to be where we’re heading.

The temperature drops by several degrees, and the walls grow cold and damp. Somewhere nearby, I hear the hollow trickle of water.

The cries and moans of the dungeon’s current inhabitants reach my ears. It’s misery and desperation I hear. Am I to become one of them?

We reach the bottom of the spiral staircase, but instead of turning right, toward the cells holding the current prisoners, I’m taken left. I have no idea what is down this way.

The corridor is lit by torches attached to the walls. We seem to be heading farther down. Is this even possible? I didn’t think there was anything beneath the dungeons.

“Where are we going?” I demand. “Where are you taking me?”

I hadn’t expected an answer, and I don’t get one.

Finally, at the end of the corridor, we reach a heavy wooden door. Metal bars run across the wood as extra security. One guard steps forward and uses a large iron key to unlock the door.