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I wanted to scream for him to stop, for him to wait, but as the black-haired female came closer, another arrow at the ready, I swore at my stupidity. I was in the royal box, and she hated the Aabergs. Hated the name I bore.

I was a target too. I let him take me, let him carry me from the box. In Vale’s arms, we raced down the hall, to the third-floor foyer, and into utter madness. We paused at the edge of the room; our bodies pressed up against the wall.

“Let me down,” I said, and Vale did so carefully. Seeing as I swayed slightly as my feet touched the floor, I was thankful for his care. There was just so much happening.Too much.

Rebels swarmed the area, taking on lords and ladies, many of whom fought with magic, not steel. It was the largest display of power I’d seen yet, and the breadth of magic in the room, how the fae wielded it, made my mouth fall open.

Among the crowd, I spied Lord Riis. Somehow, he’d acquired a sword and was masterfully fending off two rebels and spinning, steel in hand, as another came for him. Sassa’s bloody blade! I’d only ever seen that sort of deft fighting from Vale and Sian.

The third rebel attacking Lord Riis fell, and he whirled back, taking out another with his fist. The last backed up, eyes shifting to us, to Vale, who looked ready to jump in despite not being armed.

Lord Riis pointed with his blade. “Below. Help isneeded below. Arm yourself, Vale.” He gestured to a body not too far away.

A Clawsguard lay dead on the ground. I recognized him as one I’d seen following Rhistel.

“My brother,” Vale breathed, taking in the Clawsguard, knowing who he’d been protecting.

“He’s not here,” I assured him. His body, had there been one, would be close by. And no doubt a rebel would be gloating over killing the heir.

I despised Rhistel, and he and Vale had a complicated relationship, but they were still brothers. Stilltwins.The anguish lining Vale’s face said it all. No matter the turmoil between them, he’d be devastated if something happened to Rhistel.

“Vale, help is needed below.” I motioned to the sword near the fallen Clawsguard. “Take it.”

Vale picked up the sword and pulled a dagger from the soldier’s side sheath. “For you. It’s all too likely that someone will attack me. If they do, let me take them. Keep running for Frostveil and defend yourself.”

Anger rose in me at his insistence that I leave him. I was about to tell him I’d do no such thing when I heard a scream. “Vidar!”

Another female voice joined it. “Brother!”

Ice flew through my veins.

“Saga and Sayyida.” I ran to the top of the stairs.

Below, commonfae streamed from the theater, around the rebels who were doing their best to slaughter noble fae.

It took a moment, but I found who I was searching for.Sayyida and Vidar—the sight of the latter stopping my heart. A rebel had struck Vidar in the belly and blood seeped through his fine gray tunic. The rebel laughed as the heir to House Virtoris fell to the ground. Their victory was short-lived, however, as Sayyida’s water magic surged from her, the torrent picking the rebel up and slamming him against a wall so hard I doubted that he lived. Across the room, Saga was cornered, fighting off a rebel with only magic.

Like Vale, Sayyida had procured a sword to use in tandem with her magic. The steel flashed with tight, controlled strikes as Sayyida circled her brother, who had fallen to the ground. She protected Vidar from a half dozen attacking rebels who saw their chance to kill the House Virtoris heir. All the while, Sayyida’s gaze bounded between Vidar, her brother, and Saga, her best friend.

“Vale, we have to help them.” Far more rebels were attacking Sayyida, trying to harm both her and her brother. “I’ll take Saga. Fewer rebels targeted her.”

He didn’t need to reply, for we were already leaping over the balcony and soaring toward the ground. Vale went for Sayyida, and I heard when he added his sword to the mix.

I only hoped that they were fast enough to save Vidar. Pushing my wings, stronger from days of training, I didn’t falter as I flew toward Saga.

The princess had been using winter magic to fight off her attacker. I assumed Saga was giving her attacker everything she had, and if that were the case, it onlyrevealed to me how strong King Magnus was with winter magic.

Whereas he could freeze someone to the ground and transform a whip into an even more terrifying weapon, his daughter fought with small bursts of cold wind and an occasional hurled icicle. Creating the latter drained her. She looked pale and sweat dripped down her brow as she tossed one icicle as long as my forearm and then collapsed.

The projectile sailed right at her attacker, who whirled about to avoid being impaled. She saw me, then twisted to face the princess again. Saga was still on the ground, passed out from the effort of wielding magic.

The rebel turned to me, and her eyes sparked with an inner fire. “One princess down. One to go. Hopefully, you’re as weak as Pink here.” She leapt at me.

The moment she was within reach, I slashed at the rebel with my dagger. The blade struck, running across her collarbone. She fell back with a grunt as I landed, holding the dagger over her.

“I don’t want to kill you, but I will if you continue to hurt me or Saga. If I let you up, will you stop fighting and run?”

The words shocked me as they left my lips. This person had tried to hurt, possibly kill, one of my only friends. And I would let them go?