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After quietly unlocking the door to the sitting room with the third key I try, I am greeted by confusion—not mine, but the four guards who stand abruptly, scampering to attention. They all mutter apologies and bow awkwardly after I give them what I hope is a kingly glare.

“Where are Andt and Riko, Your Majesty?” one asks.

Of course. I would have been preceded by my guards, who are lying dead in a cave.

“Busy,” I say with a cool indifference that I remember sent chills down my spine when I first heard the king’s voice.

Eryn saved my life that day, so he needs to know what’s going on, too. But Tovi first. The four men look at me like they’re waiting for me to do something—say something. I’m trying to formulate my plan while pretending I know what’s going on, but I need time.

“Take me to my son’s doxy, the Erduborn woman,” I say as I stride toward the exit. The men are scrambling behind me, one almost sprinting so that he can reach the door before me.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he all but whimpers, his violet eyes looking downward in terror.

I stride through the familiar doors to the chambers I share with Tovi. She’s sitting awkwardly straight in her seat, which makes me think I’ve interrupted something. Standing quickly, she curtsies, greeting the king in front of her. Both sets of doors finally closing, I relax so much I almost melt into the ground.

She clears her throat, schooling her facial expressions. But not before I see everything on her face first. Tovi looks at me with barely veiled horror as I sag against the bench along the wall.

I laugh—an unhinged, breathless laugh that sounds horrifying to my ears because it’s the king’s voice, but somehow, it's still my laugh, which only adds fuel to my hysteria.

“I fucking missed you,” I say between the hiccups of the laughter I’m trying to stem.

Tovi is slowly reaching behind her, her look turning to steel. I catch the movement in time, launching myself into a tuck and roll to avoid the blade that hits the wall behind me. My tuck and roll is more of a splat and groan as I land with a thud. This large body is useless. My mind is racing too fast to concentrate on shifting, so I resort to putting my hands up in defense as she runs for her knife.

“It’s Mika! I’m Mika. Stop trying to kill your innocent friend!” I yell, with the slightest of snickers at the end. “If you give me a minute, I’ll shift, but I can’t do that with you throwing sharp things at me.”

A thud sounds in the washroom, and the both of us whip our heads toward the noise. I get up as quickly as I can while controlling a large body that isn’t my own. A gobsmacked Bitty looks between Tovi and me.

“Bitty! What the fuck?” Tovi blasts, edging toward them while still aiming the knife at me.

But Bitty ignores her and runs at me for a classic Bitty hug-slam. “It’s Mika!”

For the first time since I hugged my kids in Osraed, I’m able to wrap someone in a hug instead of being the wrapped one. The hugged. The receiver. Unshed tears are already threatening me as I squeeze them tighter.

“How are you so sure?” I whisper, eyes squeezed shut.

“I can hear your heart.”

I pull them back, holding their shoulders. “Oh, fuck off!” I laugh. “Are you serious?” A tear overflows onto the cheek that doesn’t belong to me.

Bitty is nodding with their dimpled cheeks in full display as Tovi is walking toward us, knife still aimed at me. Her hand is reaching for Bitty’s shoulder, still not convinced.

I need to do something before she gets stabby. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on me. It’s not as easy as I thought, as my mind keeps wandering to all the ways I've looked over the revolutions.

The pain is easier this time, shrinking hurts much less than growing. But still, I reach for Bitty’s shoulder, now above mine, to steady myself in a bout of nausea. I look down, checking to make sure I’m me and not a version of me. But it’s all me, clothes, cuts, bruises, and even the stain of bile on the side of my shirt, and unfortunately, a lot more blood than I was anticipating. I stink.

The blood is still wet as if it only just happened. The blood on my hands and wrists has not even a crust of dryness. Disgusted, I wipe my hands down my shirt and look up to see Tovi still hasn’t put away her knife. She pulls Bitty behind her, firmly shielding them with her imposing frame, fury in her eyes. It’s not enough. Of course, it’s not. The king could have just shifted into me.

We don’t have time for this. “Tovi, what do you need to make you understand? Bitty knows it’s me,” I say with an edge of anxiety coloring my tone. We need to get back to Lyss.

“How?”

“I tried to kill him. He’s alive. Or he was when I left him. Lyss might have killed him by now.”

“Lyss?” they both screech.

“Buxom Nemorisborn? The normal-heighted twin? Definitely the flower to Riley’s overgrown red weed.”

Silence. I open my mouth for more rambling, but Tovi lowers her weapon. “I would hug you, but you smell so bad,” she says, scrunching her nose and giving me a wild look. “I could have killed you. I would have killed you,” she marvels. “That deranged laugh nearly undid me. What the fuck…”