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“She wanted that barrier down more than anyone, wildcat.” Turning her, I steered her back toward the castle. “If Regner used so much power to hide his own fleet, this was something he had planned for a long, long time. Even without Daharak choosing to ally with you, Regner was likely waiting for his moment. He simply couldn’t afford to have Daharak and her ships as a threat to his own fleet.”

The castle was quiet as I led Prisca back toward our rooms. One of Rekja’s messengers had told us that the king would meet with us again in the morning to discuss the war. Impatience clawed at me. When I recognized one of the maids, I stopped her.

“Do you have parchment?”

She nodded, reaching into the pocket of her long gown. Leaning on the castle wall, I scribbled a quick note to Rekja, letting him know what had happened to Daharak’s pirates. We didn’t have time to waste here.

“Take this to your king. Tell him it’s from me. Thank you,” I said, and she bowed her head, walking off in the direction of what was likely the royal chambers.

I stifled the urge to stalk after her and interrupt Rekja and Thora’sreunion.

But Prisca was silent next to me, staring out of one of the wide windows in the hall, which looked down at the castle gates.

I took her hand. “Come with me, wildcat.”

“I asked Rythos to meet me in our rooms.”

“Is this about the priestess?”

She glanced away, but her chin stuck out in the way I’d once found infuriating and now found adorable. “You don’t think he’ll talk to me?”

My instinct was to nod, but I thought about it. “His experience with the priestess was during a time when we were separated. There’s a chance… I think some part of him may hold me responsible for the circumstances that led to it. I should have been there. But I wasn’t. So he may be able to open up to you in a way he can’t with me.”

I hadn’t thought about that period of our lives for a long time.

So much had gone wrong while we were separated— thanks to Conreth’s punishment. While Marth’s brush with death was some of the worst of it, Rythos had suffered too.

Prisca was studying me. “Do you need to talk?”

“No, wildcat. Talk to Rythos. I need to speak to Galon anyway.” Opening the door to our rooms, I gestured for her to walk inside.

She was still looking at me, and I knew what she was going to ask next. So I followed her inside.

Prisca had been casting glances my way for days and then glowering around the general vicinity, as if warning the gods themselves to stay away.

“Do you still feel like you’re being watched?” she asked.

I hesitated, and Prisca narrowed her eyes. I was the most powerful fae on this continent. I’d spent decades being known as the Bloodthirsty Prince. And yet, when my wildcat gave me that warning look, I had to fight the urge to glance away.

For a moment—just a moment—I could see her as a mother, giving our own children that exact expression. The look that told them they had better tell the truth. The thought of it warmed my chest.

“Yes,” I admitted. “But I don’t want you to worry, wildcat. I’m handling it.”

She ignored that. “Do you think Mona would be able to tell us? If it was one of the gods taking an interest in you?”

I shrugged. “I’ve never been one to trust priestesses. And seeing what they’ve allowed Regner to do to this continent… We may need to take her advice, but I don’t feel the need to tell her of my personal…issues.”

Prisca smirked at my last words, and I pinched her nose.

She laughed, and I caught the sound with my mouth, pressing her against the door.

She opened her mouth, but the door vibrated beneath my arm as someone knocked.

“Do not enter,” I growled, ignoring Rythos’s low laugh. Prisca was already grabbing my hand in an attempt to pull me away.

I sighed, allowing it. Rythos strolled inside, giving me a nod.

“I’ll leave you alone,” I said. I could feel those eyes on me once more, and this time, they felt different. Malevolent.