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It made my skin itch, the thought of people watching my every move and judging accordingly. I wasn’t a symbol of hope—some days I could barely make a decision without questioning it for hours. And Lorian would stand between Regner’s iron guards and anyone in this camp without a thought.

Margie sighed, patted my shoulder, and continued walking along the main path until we were directly across from the arena. Only a vast, grassy space separated the tents from the hybrids currently training.

“There are more tents behind the arena,” she said. “That’s where the fae sleep. Many of them train here for months at a time. And others use the camp as a convenient rest stop on their way into Eprotha and Gromalia.”

I had no doubt Demos and Tibris were both keeping an eye on those fae.

“It will probably be noisy here during the day,” Margie said apologetically, and I jolted back to the present.

“I’m sure I won’t be spending much time in here during the day anyway.” I offered her a smile. “Thank you, Margie.”

She smiled back, opening her mouth.

“There you are.” Erea threw her arms around me. “You’re all right!”

“Can’t. Breathe.”

She grinned and released me, flashing her chipped tooth. Behind her, Daselis nodded at me, reserved as always. But her usually fair skin had gained a golden glow from the sun, and her ash-blond hair was no longer twisted into an unyielding bun. Instead, it hung over her shoulders, making her appear much younger than her years.

“How is your niece?” I asked her.

Her lips curved slightly. “Hanish is doing well. She enjoys working in The Hearth whenever possible and has been learning how to cook.”

Margie pushed open the flap of my tent and gestured for us to step inside. The tent was larger than it appeared from the outside. To my right, a narrow cot waited next to a small bedside table that held a jug of water and a basin. To my left, a large chest was currently open—and empty.

“We’ll find you some clothes,” Erea said. “The camp seamstress will be so excited to know she is sewing for the queen.”

I shifted on my feet. “I would really appreciate if we could tone down the whole ‘queen’ thing. Let’s just refer to me as Prisca.”

A tiny line appeared between Erea’s eyebrows. Behind us, Margie and Daselis gave twin snorts.

I slowly turned, narrowing my eyes. Both of them wore placid expressions.

“I’m no different from anyone else in this camp,” I said. “I just want to help.”

Daselis only shrugged, clearly unimpressed. Margie looked like I’d disappointed her. An awkward silence claimed the tent.

“We’ll give you a few minutes alone,” Daselis said. “We can arrange for a bath later if you’d like.”

“Oh gods, I wouldlovethat.”

Her mouth twitched, and she nodded, leading the others out. Margie turned and gave me a long, searching look before ducking her head and following her.

Silence. I was alone for the first time since I could remember. I’d thought I would enjoy it, but instead, my mind roiled with the kinds of thoughts I didn’t want to look too closely at.

I sat on the cot and buried my head in my hands.

Daily burnings in the city.

Walking through the city had already been terrifying. I’d watched again and again as the city guards had cornered the poorest residents, searching them for contraband, taunting them, beating them…

What would it be like now?

I couldn’t let it all be for nothing. I had to get the hourglass so I could give it to the hybrids. I had no doubt losing the hourglass would prove a vicious blow to Regner’s reputation. Perhaps…perhaps those who were loyal to him out of nothing more than fear would begin to feel some kind of hope again.

“Prisca?” a voice called, and I shot to my feet, darting out of the tent. Rythos was walking toward me.

He smiled, but there was something restrained in that smile. He was in his human form, moving slowly, as if I was a particularly high-strung horse he didn’t want to spook.