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He cried out as I pulled my sword free and then shoved it into him again—and again and again, even as he lay facedown in the mud. Though I knew the wounds would heal soon after they were free of my blade, all that mattered was that he felt pain.

“My king,” said a voice, and I recognized it as Daroc.

I ignored him a second longer so that I could shove my blade once more into Gesalac’s back. Once it sunk to the hilt, I stepped back, coming face-to-face with my general.

“Restrain and mask him,” I said, breathless. “Tonight we will celebrate a traitor’s demise.”

I turned away and found the inhabitants of Volkair staring back. Their expressions were mixed. Some were angry, and some were afraid. Their thoughts screamed at me—monster, murderer, mongrel.

“And the village?” Daroc asked.

“What?” I looked at him, now aware that all my noblesse had returned, mounted on their horses, even Sorin, who held Shadow’s reins in hand.

“The village, my king,” Daroc said again.

I looked at the villagers and knew their loyalty had shifted. It was in their movements and their expressions, their thoughts and their actions. They had harbored a man who attempted to kill my queen, and they had allowed a mortal who also threatened her to speak for them.

More importantly, they were witnesses to my abilities.

I met Daroc’s gaze again.

“Burn it,” I said.

***

Thick smoke billowed above the trees, smelling of pine and flesh. We waited just outside the borders of Volkair for Sorin’s return as he scouted the woods for survivors.

I stood apart from my noblesse, staring into the forest, listening. The dead still spoke, quieter now than before, and as I listened, it wasn’t Gesalac’s voice that rang in my ears but the farmer’s.

The light is coming, and she will cast out your darkness.

The words did not bother me as much as the way he spoke them—with the conviction of a follower who had been shown a glimpse of the future. What had he seen or heard that had given him such hope? And how would I destroy it?

“Are you all right?” Daroc asked, coming to stand beside me. I did not look at him as I answered.

“No.”

I had yet to feel calm since the betrayal of my noblesse, and I would likely rage until I returned to the Red Palace. I wanted to see Gesalac suffer at the end of a metal spear. I wanted Isolde to watch him die beside me, and after, I wanted to take her to bed.

I wondered if she had rested today. Would I be able to drink her blood?

My hunger for her made my stomach hollow.

“Gesalac knew of my childhood,” I said, and when I looked at Daroc, he stared back, surprised, and then his brows lowered.

“Who told him?”

“Only three of you know,” I said and turned my head to meet his gaze. “You, Tanaka…and Ana Maria.”

Overhead, the dark outline of a falcon flew into view, and we turned as Sorin shifted, landing in the clearing before us.

“My king, you have to see this.”

Daroc stiffened beside me, and I knew it was because of his lover’s expression. His eyes were wide, his breathing heavy, as if he had fled wherever he’d been.

Daroc took a step toward him but halted.

“What is it?” I asked.