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Miguel begins shaking his head.

“I’ve already decided,” Lawrence says. “If I die, then I die. In ten years, Bartholomew will likely be a better king than I am anyway.”

“Lawrence,” Audra says, her tone strange.

He turns back, looking like he’s ready to argue with her as well. But the elf doesn’t try to persuade him to stay. Instead, she closes the space between them, grasps him by the collar of his brigandine, and kisses him.

Hard.

In front of his knights, in front of me, in front of several very shocked guards.

My jaw drops. Once the surprise wears off, I press my lips into a thin line to keep from laughing.

When Audra pulls back, she says, “I’ll fight with you, Lawrence. By your side.”

He swallows, looking stupefied. Clearing his throat, he nods. “I’d like that.”

* * *

I stand atop one of the inner curtain walls, taking aim, acknowledging why Henrik tried to save me from this. Every cloaked man or woman who falls will forever live in my memory; every life I take to save countless others will haunt my dreams.

But I will not back down from the fight, not when they’re attacking my city. I didn’t start this war, but I will certainly do my part to end it.

There’s a commotion on the outside wall. Guards holler, but I can’t make out what they’re saying with the chaos around me.

Smoke is heavy in the air, bringing with it the acrid smell of burning cottages and businesses. Thankfully the wind died down, making it easier to contain the fires.

I shoot again, targeting a man who’s cornered a woman and her young son. The woman looks up when the mage falls, clutching the boy in relief.

Hers is the face I will choose to remember.

Shoving several escaped strands of hair out of my eyes, I take aim again, picking off the blood mages one by one. But there are so many.

Hundreds of necromancers infiltrated the city before Lawrence ordered the guards to shut the gates. Perhaps they lived here all along, preying on the unfortunate and orphaned for their dark spells, choosing victims who wouldn’t be missed.

Another scream from the wall distracts me, and I lower my bow, looking at the archer closest to me. “What’s going on over there?”

He shakes his head, focused on his mission. But curiosity gets the best of me.

I jog across the adjoining walls, thankful I took the time to change into trousers when I donned my leather armor. I arrive at the same time as Lawrence and Audra.

“What is it?” I ask, though they don’t know any more than I do.

I gasp when I look down, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. Blinking, I stare at the churning mass of attackers.

“They’re…” I can’t finish the thought.

“They look likeskeletons,” Audra says.

“Oh, thank goodness,” I say with a heavy exhale. “I thought I was losing my mind.”

Xander steps up to Lawrence. “They’ve surrounded the city walls, Your Majesty.”

It’s not unheard of for a powerful necromancer to raise the dead, but this is inconceivable.

“What kind of blood mage has the power to—” I stop myself. “Camellia’s here.”

Lawrence curses under his breath, and then he nods. “She must be.”