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And Talan isn’t breathing a word to anyone.

I pull away from his thoughts, the throbbing headache already pounding in my skull. I don’t know what to make of any of this. I’d assumed there’d be a target on my back and everyone in the kingdom would know I was a spy working for the enemy.

And yet, even the soldiers I’d attacked had kept it a secret.

Whywould Talan risk the security of his kingdom like that?

Well, Donal is right about one thing. Only the prince knows what’s going on.

My breath quickens.Maybe I should ask him.

Of course, it’s an unhinged idea.

I’m here to find Brados and the resistance. I’m not here for Talan. The last time I saw him, we beat the shit out of each other. He told me, quite clearly, that the next time he saw me would be on a battlefield. We are enemies now.

So why, exactly, am I bringing the battle to him?

Sending a message with Aisling is the best plan.

But Donal’s thoughts have lit a fire in my mind, becausewhyis Talan not protecting the kingdom against me, knowing that I could come back? Knowing that I can easily find my way in and out of a portal?

Maybe hewantedme to come back. A ridiculous thing to hope for, but a spark of light flickers in my chest, an ember of hope.

I find myself climbing the silent stairwells in search of him. I don’t have a home in Camelot. I’ll never go back to America. There’snothingfor me except Brocéliande and Talan. And if Wrythe gets his way, everyone in this kingdom will be dead.

At the very least, I will warn Talan about the virus in person.

Hopefully, I won’t end up in a tower dungeon.

The palace is quiet as a grave this time of night, long before the courtiers awake but after they fall asleep. Silently, I stalk through the halls. I can’t go to Talan’s bedroom, because that was destroyed. I’ve got the veil up in my mind, and I can’t sense him within the castle. I have no idea if he’s even here, but if hewerehere, he might be in his library sanctuary, where I used to sleep.

I cross a bridge outside, one that connects the towers, and the cold wind races over me. I prowl into the next stone corridor, following the byzantine twists and turns of the castle.

As I’m about to make another turn, a hand clamps around my throat from behind, dominating, commanding. He jerks me back and holds me firm against his pure, unyielding muscle.

I breathe in Talan’s scent, my heart pounding. Heat radiates from his body. I should be frightened, butgods,he’s delicious.

He spins me around and presses me against the wall, the impact ringing through my body.

CHAPTER 50

For a moment, I wonder what to do.

I stare up into Talan’s heartbreakingly beautiful face. Even though I should be scared out of my wits, all I can think about is how desperately I wanted to see him.

“Nia.” Talan’s voice sounds wrecked, like he hasn’t slept for days. “You came back.”

“I’m not allowed in Camelot anymore. They say I’m a traitor.” My voice cracks a little. “They arrested me. I can’t go back there.”

“Didthey arrest you? It’s hard to say when you lie endlessly.” His voice is barely a whisper. “You faked your family. Your name isn’t Vaillancourt, is it? And the man I buried?—”

He breaks off, staring at me.

I feel myself crumbling into ash. “He was a member of the resistance. Anti-monarchy. Demi-Fey.” I swallow hard. “And no, I’m not the farm girl you thought I was. I’m Nia Melisande, Mordred’s daughter. He’s still alive, in Avalon.”

He stares at me without moving. Not betraying a single thing.

“I grew up in America, speaking English,” I add. “I grew up believing I was human. You heard my thoughts for years. I heard you repeating them once in your sleep.”