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Or, at least I was, until I glanced up and accidentally met Ambrose’s dark eyes. Instantly, I felt scrutinized. Watched. Like I was standing naked on the lawn.

I flushed, and pushed all thoughts of that night out of my mind before everyone could sense my reaction. Fortunately, Scion was clearly too incensed by his brother’s presence to examine my strange behavior.

“What do you want?” Scion barked.

Ambrose finally condescended to look at Scion, his posture relaxed and his expression neutral. They were exactly the same height, but somehow Ambrose managed to look down his nose in the way that only an older sibling could. “Calm down, brother. You’ll give yourself an aneurysm.”

Scion spluttered furiously, but didn’t manage to reply before a massive raven swooped low over our heads, drawing everyone’s attention. The bird let out a loud caw, and landed on Scion's shoulder, its feathers rustling against my hair as it settled comfortably on its new perch.

“Hello, Quill.” I smiled and extended my hand, gently running my fingers along the soft feathers of the bird's neck. Quill chittered in response, as if bidding me good afternoon.

Ambrose made a noise of disgust, and his carefully neutral expression cracked. He glared angrily from Quill to Scion. “Can’t you make that thing stay inside?”

Scion sneered. “Are you telling me the mighty Dullahan is afraid of a bird?”

“That’s not a bird,” Ambrose grumbled. “It’s an omen of disaster.”

I scratched Quill beneath the beak, and he cocked his head at me, cooing innocently. “I really don’t understand why you’re all so afraid of a harmless pet.”

“Exactly,” Scion replied triumphantly, sneering at an affronted Ambrose. “But if you’re so bothered, feel free to walk away. I guarantee, we’ll take no offense.”

Ambrose scowled, first at the raven and then at his brother. Scion scowled back, and I had to bite back a laugh. Their expressions were identical, down to the last dimple.

Aside from their coloring which was entirely opposite, I would have readily believed that Scion and Ambrose were twins. In actuality, Ambrose was nearly two centuries older.

For over a hundred years, Ambrose had been the crown prince of the Everlast dynasty, until he abandoned the family to join the rebellion against the monarchy. With his brother gone, Scion had become the heir-apparent, and the two of them had been on opposing sides of a brewing civil war since before I was even born.

For that reason, among many, Scion hated his brother with an unholy passion. I had loathed him as well, until Ambrose took me captive and we were forced to spend two weeks getting acquainted.

Ambrose possessed the incredible gift of foresight. He was the most powerful seer born in generations, and therefore he’d been burdened since childhood with the knowledge of his family’s eventual downfall. It haunted him, until finally, he made the conscious decision to stop passively observing, and instead actively work towards shaping a better future for his family and the entire nation.

Unfortunately, that had meant sacrificing his title, his reputation, and his relationship with his brother. Ambrose had explained all this to me, because I was the only person—aside from himself—whose future he couldn’t directly see or influence. Now, I was perhaps the only person on the continent who didn’t think he was a monster.

“Was there something you wanted?” I asked Ambrose, hoping to defuse the tension between the brothers.

Ambrose shook his head as if to clear it, and refocused on me. His jet black eyes bore into mine. “I came to tell you that your mother is ready.”

I faltered for a moment, startled by his complete attention. “You’re not serious.”

Ambrose grimaced. “I am. As I expected, hunger was a powerful motivator.”

I wrinkled my nose in distaste. “Yes,” I muttered grimly. “I know all too well that starving in a cell has a way of making one reevaluate their priorities.”

Beside me, Scion stiffened uncomfortably, running one large hand through his hair. Behind us, Idris cleared his throat.

I turned to look at him, having forgotten for a moment that he was here. I gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you don’t want to hear us discussing dungeons.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry over it. In my time, we used far harsher methods of persuasion. Your dungeons are very tame compared with what I’d do.”

I frowned, a shiver running through me. Part of me wanted to ask what he would do if it were up to him, but a larger part didn’t want to know. I supposed it didn’t matter. I was technically in charge here, and imprisoning my mother in the very dungeon where I’d nearly died was about the worst thing I could possibly think of.

“Do you want me to go with you to speak with her, Rebel?” Scion asked.

“If anyone should go with her, it’s me,” Ambrose said pointedly. “I actually know Rhiannon.”

“And look how well that’s turned out,” Scion said acidly. “Did you also order her to kill my mate?”

“Alright, stop,” I interrupted before Ambrose could respond. “I’m going alone.”