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But if Rythos was convincing us to cooperate with his brother, he must have some kind of plan. So, I walked.

I’d expected a cell like the ones I’d heard about beneath Regner’s castle. And I was relatively sure such a dungeon could be found on this island. But Rythos’s station clearly entitled him to a slightly more tolerable cell. And I was pushed inside the cell with him.

Approximately twenty footspans wide and long, it contained two beds, a couple of wooden chairs and a table near the bars of the cell, and a room divider that could be dragged open, separating the beds for some semblance of privacy—at least from each other. A tiny bathing room, also divided near the back of the room. One of Brevan’s guards leered at me in a way that warned me I wouldn’t be receiving much of that privacy.

“Will you at least listen to what we have to say?” Rythos demanded as the cell clanked shut behind us.

Brevan studied Rythos. And there was something disturbing in his gaze. This was the kind of fae I’d been warned about, even as a child. Remote, emotionless, cruel. His eyes were chillingly blank.

“No,” he said. “I don’t believe I will.”

Rythos’s mouth fell open, and understanding dawned in his eyes. I wanted to punch him in the throat. He’d believed his brother would listen if only he played along and allowed him to lock us down here.

“You’re going to die,” I said.

Brevan’s gaze flicked to me. “I suggest you refrain from threatening me.”

“Oh,I’mnot going to do it.” Although I was fantasizing about doing exactly that. The bars on this cage had tamped down my magic until I could barely feel a single ember. “Your coward father has brought this upon himself, but all of you will pay for it.”

Brevan glanced at Rythos once more.

“Brother,” Rythos said hoarsely. “Please.”

Brevan turned and walked away.

23

The Queen

No matter the man, and no matter his loyalties, eventually, he could always be bribed, blackmailed, or beguiled.

The guard on my tent was no different.

He was young, with a sparse beard and a voice that broke when I called to him hours after the Bloodthirsty Prince had ordered me to be chained in this tent.

“Yes…your…Your Majesty?”

I offered him a gentle smile, gesturing to the chains on my wrists. “Surely there would be no harm in allowing me a brief walk?”

He swallowed, glancing around. “I’ll have to ask my superior, Your Majesty.”

I gave him a nod filled with sorrow and forced a blush to rise to my face. “At the very least…I need to take care of some personal needs.”

His blush matched my own.

A hybrid soldier blushing like a nervous bride. I barely suppressed an eye roll.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

His large hands shook as he pulled out the key, unlocking the heavy manacles from one of my hands. With an apologetic glance,he ensured the other manacle stayed clamped around my left wrist, the chain dangling free.

I didn’t say a word. Although I itched to order somebody to slit his throat.

Small steps.

I couldn’t use my power with the fae iron encircling my wrists. But at the very least, I could determine which tent they were keeping Prisca’s cousin in.

I’d watched the fight between them. One of Lorian’s fae lackeys had ordered a guard to watch me, but I’d still seen the way Prisca had wrestled and rolled across that arena in order to prove herself worthy of the hybrid crown.