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Indeed, they could’ve been back in Ghislain. As Skye looked around the banquet hall, he could’ve been sitting at the table of any one of the extravagant parties thrown by his family. The menu bordered on excessive—exquisite dishes prepared with the finest ingredients in large enough portions to satisfy appetites accustomed to overindulgence. The decorations were a feast for the eyes—and a pointless waste of aether in an environment too depleted of ambient magic to sustain them for more than a few hours.

The tiny forest, for example, its leaves now turning from green to vibrant orange and red as the main course was served—it was a show of extravagance for extravagance’s sake alone. By dessert, they would have the pleasure of seeing that miracle of life wither and decay.

Skye supposed if the nobility could be depended on for one thing, it was to carry on as if nothing had changed when the world outside was burning.

A waiter placed a plate in front of Adalet, then Skye, moving his way down the table. Roasted wyvern flank drizzled with butter and herbs. She stared at her plate with something akin to longing. There was a fleeting moment where it seemed she might disregard good manners and dive in. “This is the first time I’ve had meat in three weeks. He must have hunters.”

“Outside the wall?”

“Yes. Myridan too. I hear they’ve been sending men out.”

“How?” Ivain controlled every way in and out of the city. No one was allowed to send out hunting parties. It had been deemed—

“Excuse me!” The sharpting-ting-tingof metal rapping against glass brought the roar of conversation to a halt.

Chapter 32

Taly was glad when Kalahad rose to make a toast. It finally forced Skye’s eyes away from thathomewreckerto the front of the room.

To be clear, she didn’t wish death on anyone. But, also, if Jezebel had been brutally mauled by shades, leaving her without an arm or two or maybe even in the realm of the dearly departed, she wouldn’t have been too broken up about it either.

Smiling, Kalahad set down his fork and addressed the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests, cherished friends. Tonight, we have the extraordinary privilege of celebrating the return of a true hero. Her courage has been whispered about in taverns, praised in halls, and now, we have the unparalleled privilege of welcoming her back to where she belongs. It is with immense pleasure that I raise my glass to the evening’s guest of honor, a woman whose valor knows no bounds. Talya Caro.”

Taly smiled and rose from the table to the din of polite applause. She hated this. Hated the attention. But she smiled nonetheless, just the way Leto had taught her. They’d practiced in the mirror for hours, days, weeks—in the time loop, it was hard to keep track. Any hint of insincerity or contempt would be met with swift correction until Taly had learned to suppress her inner disdain no matter the situation. Whether it was Feyries screaming at her, the repeated lash of Azura’s fan across her wrist, or even the empty flattery of a room full of royal assholes who saw her as nothing more than an anomaly to be gawked at and patronized—she’d learned to endure it all while projecting a genuine, beaming smile.

“I must admit, I had my doubts when Castaro approached me about a joint venture.” Scattered laughter. “An expedition to retrieve a rare and shining jewel amidst the darkness of our times. Her journey was one of adversity and courage—and a testament to what I can tell after only a few hours of knowing you, my dear, is an indomitable spirit.”

Down the table, Aimee rolled her eyes. Taly resisted the urge. Kalahad was laying it onthick.

“During the Battle for Ebondrift, she fearlessly fixed a malfunctioning flashcannon, turning the tide in our favor. Braving the treacherous wilds, she embarked on a perilous journey to send a message for help—and to this, I can attest. I was one of the refugees that gathered in Della. Without her, we’d all be ash or worse.”

A smattering of applause broke from across the table in recognition of his grueling ordeal, and Kalahad eagerly soaked in the outpouring of sympathies.

“For a month, she survived amidst the unforgiving wilderness, demonstrating a resilience that is nothing short of extraordinary, and I want to announce tonight, to all you gentle people, that I have invested in her not only my resources but my faith. So, raise your glasses with me, and let us toast thisremarkablewoman. To the Savior of Ebondrift, the girl who lived despite the odds, and to what I hope is the beginning of a long and productive friendship between our households.”

Kalahad raised his glass high, inviting his guests to join him. Glasses clinked together, echoing through the hall as voices rose in unison.

Over the miniature forest, Ivain tapped his glass to Taly’s. His expression remained carefully neutral—indeed, he’d only let slip a few flickers of animosity throughout the night. For Kalahad, for having to be here, for the blatant double dipping into the city’s food supply, something he would no doubtbe investigating come morning. He gave her a polite nod of acknowledgement—a reminder to smile and bask in the praise, empty as it was.

“The way he talks, she sounds like something out of legend. Certainly more intimidating than the scrawny little adventurer I remember. Is any of it true?”

The voice belonged to Jezebel. In the crowd, Taly could pick it out. Maybe she was listening for it. Maybe she leveraged the bond to pick out the words. Maybe the harpy had a shrill, cutting voice that carried—the world would never know.

Taly listened for Skye’s response. Throughout Kalahad’s speech, he’d remained unreadable. When he spoke, his voice was quiet but certain. “She deserves every bit of praise and more.”

Okay… that felt good. Taly exhaled slowly, steadying herself against the unexpected rush of emotion.

“And now, if I may,” Kalahad went on, grave and commanding, “I must address a matter of great importance that has come to light. It is with a heavy heart that I reveal a shadow that has lingered over our noble society—the presence of traitors within my own household.”

A gasp rippled through the room. Down the table, even Sarina’s eyes widened with shock before she composed herself. True, she’d planned for the possibility of Kalahad trying to get ahead of the story. She just hadn’t expected him to do it. Admitting that traitors were part of his household, whether he knew it or not, could make him look weak or, worse, complicit in a time when paranoia was running rampant. It would open him up to direct responsibility for an attempt on the heir of Ghislain’s life.

His best line of defense was to conceal the evidence of whatwouldbecome a scandal against him, not confess to it in front of every person of importance sheltering within Ryme.

“Yes, my dear friends, while we celebrate our hero’s return and the coming Long Night, it has come to my attention that there are those within my household who conspired against the very values we hold dear. Vaughn Adamaer, the head of my guard, Carin Fenmar, and Asher Venwraith were entrusted with the task of protecting the Emrys brothers during the retrieval of our fair hero, and I regret to say they used that opportunity to mount a betrayal.”

“To what end?” someone asked from down the table, followed by a chorus of similar questions and calls for details.

Kalahad shushed them. “We may never know the full scope of their malintent. Who can ever understand the twisted machinations of such fiendish minds? We suspect there may have been an assassination plot targeting the heirs of Ghislain. Perhaps even an attempt to sway their allegiance. I have it on good authority that the enemy is in possession of mind-altering magics.”