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Lorian’s eyes darkened. “That look on your face is going to get you fucked.”

“No, it’s not,” Asinia called, slamming her hand on the door. “We need togo.”

He cut his gaze to the door, but his mouth twitched. “We’re coming.”

“No, you’re not.” Asinia was laughing now.

“Go away,” I called.

Cavis’s low voice sounded. Asinia replied. And thenhestarted laughing.

Lorian shook his head. “Are you ready?”

“No. But I will be.”

He gave me that dark, approving look that made my toes curl. “I know you will.”

Lorian had sent a messenger to Eryndan, asking for an audience. And the king had sent one of his carriages to the inn. Several people were gathered outside, eyes wide as they watched the uniformed driver open the door for us. Lorian swept his gaze over them, and most of them turned away, finding something else to look at.

The driver held out his hand, and I allowed him to help me into the carriage, holding out my own hand to Telean, who sat beside me. Asinia sat in front of us next to Lorian, who watched me thoughtfully.

“Cavis?” I murmured.

“He’ll sit up with the driver.”

“Has anyone seen the Drakoryx?”

“No,” Lorian said. “But if he came into the city, he would be hunted. He’s smart enough to stay away.”

We were quiet as the carriage left the inn. This was it. I pictured all of the hybrids in those cages in Sabium’s dungeon and let myself imagine the daily burnings in the city. The screams. It hurt. But it cleared my mind.

Telean reached out and squeezed my hand.

I met her eyes. “I wish my mother were here.”

She knew I wasn’t talking about Vuena. Her expression softened.

“You can do this, Nelayra.”

The name hung in the air. At first, I’d loathed it. It was a reminder of who I might have been if Vuena had chosen slightly differently. If she’d warned my parents of the attack, or even found a way to get me to Demos as a child. And yet I couldn’t regret growing up in that village. Couldn’t imagine never knowing Tibris.

Prisca was who I’d made myself. Even if it had been Vuena who’d named me. Nelayra…one day, perhaps I would be worthy of that name too.

The carriage bumped over the cobblestones, and Lorian’s hard thigh pressed against mine, a silent support.

“We need allies,” Telean said. “Just remember, when it came to her kingdom, there was nothing your motherwouldn’tdo.”

I replayed her words over and over. My mother had been forced to flee her kingdom when they were invaded without warning. But Telean had told me a few stories about her, grief tightening her face. My mother had never forgotten her people. She was the one who’d ensured Crawyth would be safe for them. And she should have still been alive, still fighting for our kingdom.

Instead, she’d died crazed with grief as she searched for me in an empty house.

So I had to take her place. Had to be the ruler she would have been.

I kept my head high as we drove through the castle gates and into the courtyard.

The courtyard was filled with statues—each more detailed than the last. They depicted various people seemingly caught in motion, as if they had been merely living their lives before they were turned to stone. I shuddered.

We filed out of the carriage, and I surveyed the castle, conscious I was being watched. Like Regner’s, it had been built with dark stone bricks, only in place of towers, the Gromalian castle spread out wider, with countless wings jutting from the main building. At least thirty Gromalian guards were waiting for us. All wore thick armor and carried longswords, as if expecting to be attacked at any moment. Was this due to our sudden visit? Or was Eryndan simply the paranoid type?