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“Can’t say I ever wear anythingbutarmor, even when I’m here at court.” She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and ran a finger down the jagged scar on her cheek. “Always be ready for anything.”

“Is it rude if I ask what happened there? I thought fae power could heal anything.”

She chuckled. “Not at all. In fact, it’s been a long time since I met someone who didn’t know. This scar here? It came from Oberon.”

My eyes widened.

“That’s right,” she said bitterly. “He got me, too.”

I pressed my lips together. Despite her many questions, I hadn’t told her where my scars came from, though I supposed it wasn’t difficult to piece together.

She continued. “Before the Battle of the Great Rift, we fought Oberon and his army in the fields just beyond our mountains here, on the border between our kingdoms. It was the first of many battles in our war with him. I was an archer, so I wasn’t in the thick of it myself. All I could focus on was Oberon out there laughing while he slaughtered shadow fae on the front lines.” Her voice went rough. “I got to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore. So, I went down there to kill him myself.”

Toryn drifted into the room from the open door. “Don’t tell me she roped you into listening to this story.”

I cast a glance between them as Niamh pursed her lips. “She asked me about it.”

Toryn turned to me. “You’d think it was the only battle she was ever a part of, the way she goes on about it. Do you know how many times we’ve had to hear her rant about the Battle on the Borders? An unspeakable number. That’s how many. Come on, Alastair and I can tell you much more interesting stories.”

“I want to hear what happened,” I said, lifting a brow. “Haveyouever tried to rush Oberon in the middle of a battle?”

From the other room, Alastair let out a guffaw.

“I see.” Toryn rolled his eyes and gestured at Niamh before backing out the door. “By all means, carry on.”

“As I was saying,” Niamh said, raising her voice to be heard in the other room, “I left my post and fought my way to Oberon’s side.”

“Kal still doesn’t like that you defied his orders, Niamh,” Toryn called out from the other room.

She ignored him. “I got as close as I could, and then I aimed an arrow at his head.”

I felt myself leaning forward, even though I knew she hadn’t won. If she had, he’d be dead. “What happened?”

“The bastard sensed me coming and shot some of his light magic at my face.” She pressed her fingers against her cheek. “It knocked me out. I’d have been trampled if Kal hadn’t seen. He got me out of there before Oberon could do any more damage, and my healing magic did all it could. This never went away, though. It’s my reminder of everything he’s done, everyone he’s killed.”

I swallowed hard. “At least you tried.”

She smiled. “That I did. And it’ll be your turn soon.”

Only when I did it, I wouldn’t have fae healing and an army surrounding me. If I failed, there would be no one there to pick me up and get me out. I’d be stuck there. This time, it would be forever.

A biting power rippled toward me from Niamh’s room, and I stuck my head out the door to see what was happening. My stomach dropped at the sight of the Mist King, clad in all-black leather armor with a long, gleaming sword strapped to his back. His eyes met mine, and I clutched the door tighter.

“You look more like yourself.” The words settled into me in a strange, unexpected way that heated my cheeks. That was exactly what I’d thought when I looked into the mirror.

I frowned at him. “I’ve never dressed this way in my entire life. You think you know me, but you don’t.”

Irritation flickered in his eyes. “Hmm.” He turned to Toryn and Alastair, who were lounging on the sofa watching our exchange with intrigue. “Have you made all the necessary arrangements?”

As if in answer, a knock sounded on the...window. Eyes wide, I watched as Toryn leapt up from the sofa and let a raven into the room. It held a tiny, rolled note in its curved beak. As Toryn read the note, the raven flew to the Mist King’s shoulder and settled in, pressing the top of his head against the fae’s neck.

I gaped at them.

“Teg got the message. He’ll meet us at the base of the mountain with the horses.” Toryn tossed the note into the fire. “We’re all good to go.”

“What is that?” I asked, pointing at the raven with a smile. “Do you have a pet bird?”

For some reason, it struck me as completely ridiculous. The Mist King. With a pet. The raven nestled against the fae’s neck, clearly happy to be there. And then suddenly, Nellie’s face popped into my mind. This raven could fly away, but my sister never could. The thought of her wiped away my smile.