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Camellia begins to shake as severely as Hellebore was only moments ago, and I pull her out of Pranmore’s quarters and into the hall. Her dress is singed from the High Vale magic, and she’s likely burned. But if she is, she doesn’t seem to notice the pain.

She yanks away from me, pacing like a madwoman, and lets out a keening wale that’s sure to wake anyone nearby. The princess then drops to her knees, sobbing into her hands.

I watch, detached. Though Camellia is a painful sight, I can’t bring myself to feel much more than disgusted pity.

* * *

Camellia weepsthe rest of the night, falling asleep just after dawn and giving me much-needed freedom this morning. My head swims with the information I’ve learned.

Denny eyes me as I pause in front of Lawrence’s door. After ending up in the constable’s holding cell with Clover, I’m not one of his favorite people.

“I need to speak with the king,” I say, ignoring his look of scorn. “It’s urgent.”

The knight jerks his head toward Lawrence’s door guard. “Tell His Majesty Henrik is here.”

“And if he’s asleep?”

“Wake him,” I say.

The man turns to Denny, waiting for authorization. When he nods, the guard disappears inside.

Denny is the only knight in attendance at this early hour, and we wait in stony silence. Unbidden, my eyes drop to the gold medallion he wears on his arm. It bears the king’s phoenix, along with a ring of rubies around the crest. Clover’s brother is a sealed knight now, one of the king’s five elite.

I look away, unable to quell my unfounded resentment.

A moment later, the guard appears in the doorway. “His Majesty has granted you permission to enter.”

I step inside, closing the door behind me. The room is empty, and Lawrence’s bedchamber door is closed. I wait, taking in the appallingly large space. I never stepped foot in here when it was Algernon’s private quarters—was certainly never close enough to the king to be invited or have a reason to request an audience.

Lawrence appears from down the hall, dressed but looking groggy. “What is so important you had to wake me before the sun is fully up?”

“You’re a king now,” I answer with an agitated bite in my tone that’s likely thanks to lack of sleep. “You no longer have the luxury of lounging in bed all day.”

“Oh? Are you an authority on matters of royal conduct now? I had no idea.” A wry smile crosses Lawrence’s face, reminding me that even though we are friendlier than we’ve ever been, it would still be satisfying to punch him just once. “Tell me, Henrik the Disciplined, how should I schedule my day?”

“Never mind,” I say impatiently. “Your sister is gathering ingredients for a concoction a local necromancer said is highly dangerous, Hellebore was Ayan’s mother, and you have a spy in your guard.”

The new king stares at me, looking flummoxed. “You met a necromancer in Cabaranth?”

“He’s the apothecary in the old part of the city, near the High Vale gardens. Camellia sent me for ingredients she needs for the cryptic potion she’s making.”

Orwasmaking. Now that Hellebore is gone, Camellia has lost her vessel for the ill effects of her blood magic. If she uses magic now, she’ll pay the cost herself. Will she be willing to give up her beauty for power?

Lawrence cocks his head to the side, thinking it over. “So you’re telling me this man acts as a local grocer stocking necromancy ingredients? And he’s running this operation right under my patrol guards’ noses?”

“Lawrence,” I say with a growl. “That doesn’t matter right now.”

“I suppose not.” He shakes his head, waving my concern away as he sits on a bench with a world-weary sigh. “But it sounded like the least headache-inducing item on your list. Let’s start with this Hellebore business. What do you mean she was Ayan’s mother? Are you saying Camellia’s handmaid was his father’s mistress?”

“So it seems.”

“Wait…washis mother?”

“She died last night.”

“How did you find out?”

“That brings us to the matter of the spy. Camellia received a message that Hellebore was in Pranmore’s care in the early hours of the morning, and she stormed in to see her. According to Pranmore, no one knew she was there except you, Clover, and Audra’s group. As well as…”