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Abecka reached across the bench and gripped Seph’s hands with one of hers. It was a strong grip. “It’s hard to live in two worlds, my Josephine. It will tear you apart.”

Seph met her gaze, wondering what Abecka was getting at.

“There will come a day, and very soon, when you will have to choose,” Abecka continued, holding firmly to Seph’s hand. “Kith or mortal kind.”

Seph frowned. “Why can’t I fight for both?”

“I do not speak of fighting.”

Seph held Abecka’s gaze, and in that moment, Seph knew Abecka was talking about Alder.

Seph’s pulse quickened.

“Things are not always what they seem, my Josephine,” Abecka said, giving her hand a good squeeze. “Trust me. I mothered the master of disguises. One must always look deeper than what is visible.”

Seph looked away, unable to hold Abecka’s gaze any longer. Unable to face the truth of something Seph felt deep down for the Weald Prince, despite herself. “But he confessed it himself. He used my brother and left him to die. I will never forgive him for that.”

“And you were raised to trust the words of a kith…?” Abecka’s words lingered in the space between them.

Seph drew back with confusion. “But why would he have me believe otherwise?”

“Why, indeed?” Abecka’s eyes traced Seph’s features, as if committing them to memory. Then she patted her hand. “It is late, and I think that you have sacrificed enough of your time indulging your old great-grandmother. Perhaps tomorrow we might search through some of Basrain’s old texts, but whatever we find, you will not be wearing that coat ever again.” She bent over Seph and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you for this. I shall cherish our conversation until the end of my days.” Her gaze lingered on Seph a moment more before she turned and left.

Leaving Seph all alone in this glorious slice of Weald—all that remained of Prince Alder’s kingdom.

Abecka’s words remained long after she left. Seph sat on the bench beneath the willow, gazing upon the glittering pool. She’d wanted solitude, but it made a mockery of her now.

Things are not always what they seem, my Josephine.

Why would Alder mislead her?

Thewhyhaunted her as she strolled back through Callant’s halls toward her bedchamber. That little word would not let her go, yelling louder with every step. She remembered how he’d tried hiding his hand, because he’d put himself at risk to tear the coat off her body, and it was this thought that persuaded her to turn from the direction of her chambers and head straight tohis.

Nothing about Alder added up, his past and his accounting of his time with Rys versus the man who had, more than once, sacrificed his own comfort for hers. Seph lifted her blue-scarred hand and rubbed at the place where that unbearable fire had taken residence within her chest, and her fingers grazed Rys’s ring.

If Alder had truly come all the way to Harran for the coat, why bother with the ring at all? He could have just taken the coat; he could have easily done it while they were in the square that day. And if he’d realized Massie had already made off with it, why bother with the ring at all? Why not just chase after the kith high lord and toss the ring aside?

Seph meant to get to the bottom of it, and also thank him for his help tonight, and when she found the door she suspected belonged to Alder, she took a deep breath and knocked softly. Rustling sounded on the other side, and the door opened a moment later.

It was Serinbor.

His shirt hung open, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he looked tired, though he perked up at the sight of her. “Princess Josephine.” A pause. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Well, this was awkward. “Actually, I was looking for Prince Alder.”

Shadows settled over Serinbor’s features, but he did not otherwise give space for the animosity Seph knew he felt. “His chamber is two doors down.” He nodded stiffly in that direction.

“Thank you. Goodnight,” Seph said.

He inclined his head and attempted a smile, though it failed. “Goodnight.”

Seph walked on. Serinbor’s door clicked shut a second later, and her heart beat faster with every step. She reached the door Serinbor indicated, gathered her courage, and knocked lightly.

Only silence answered.

Seph might’ve thought Alder wasn’t there, but she couldfeelhim, just like she had in the training yard. His life was like a flickering candle on the other side of that door—a point of warmth and light burning amidst the cold. Seph didn’t understand this ability to sense him, and maybe she would talk to him about that too.

She knocked again, harder this time, but there was still no answer.