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Even without the royal crest hanging around Kiva’s neck as a constant, choking reminder, she would never forget. It was impossible. She saw him every moment of every day, his blue-gold eyes filled with pain and horror as he realized the truth: that she’d taken everything from him — his throne, his magic, his heart.

Jaren Vallentis.

The once-heir to the kingdom of Evalon, now forced out of his own palace and on the run — all because of Kiva.

And it wasn’t just Jaren. There were others she cared about who now suffered because of her choices: Naari, Caldon, Tipp, even her brother, Torell. She had no idea what had befallen any of them in the weeks since that night when everything had been torn apart.

When she closed her eyes, she saw Naari lying in a pool of blood after being struck by Zuleeka’s death magic; she saw Caldon looking down at the barely alive Jaren before screaming at Kiva to flee, his loyalty to his family at odds with his love for her; she saw Tipp’s devastation when he realized she’d lied to him for years, followed by his small body crumpling after a blow from Zuleeka, who had claimed he’d be a liability until Kiva had a chance to explain — a chance she’d never been given. He’d been placed in the care of Rhessinda, who had promised to watch over him, just as she’d promised to care for Torell after he’d been stabbed during the skirmish with their Mirraven abductors. But it wasn’t the abductors who had nearly killed him — it was Zuleeka.

It wasalwaysZuleeka.

Everything that had happened could be blamed on Kiva’s sister, whohad partnered with Mirryn Vallentis to overthrow Evalon, the princess having been coerced by Mirraven’s King Navok to turn on her own family for the sake of her love for Navok’s sister, Serafine.

But despite knowing all of that, Kiva still blamed herself. Becauseshewas the reason they’d succeeded. She’d told them everything they’d needed to steal the throne, betraying everyone she loved in the process.

BetrayingJaren.

He was never going to forgive her.

Shewas never going to forgiveherself.

People like her didn’t deserve forgiveness.

They deserved death.

It was only fitting that she was back in Zalindov, awaiting her end. There was no escaping this time — no one was coming for her. She was on her own, just the way it should be.

She’d earned that, the suffering, the pain. But even so, there was no punishment in the world that could mend what she’d broken. That was something she had to live with — and soon enough, die with.

“Time!” called the nearest guard, with the word being echoed by other guards spaced further along the tunnels. “Back to work!”

Kiva heaved herself up to her feet, aware of Cresta at her side, as always. Once, Kiva had dreaded encountering the other girl around the prison, her antagonistic attitude and penchant for stirring up trouble making Kiva steer clear of her. And despite whatever stalemate they’d reached now, Kiva would never forget that Cresta had once threatened Tipp’s life, claiming she would kill him if Kiva failed to keep the Rebel Queen alive. Kiva hadn’t needed the motivation, seeing as Tilda Corentine was her own mother.

Or she had been, once.

Tilda was dead now.

Kiva hadn’t been able to save her.

She hadn’t been able to save her father, either.

Or her brother, Kerrin.

Half of her family, gone.

Despite their deaths not being her fault, Kiva was plagued by the knowledge that the healing magic in her bloodcouldhave kept them from the everworld, if she’d had the chance to use it. If she’d had thecourageto use it.

She’d failed them.

And now she was paying the price.

For that, and for so many other things.

“What are you doing?” Cresta murmured. “Dig.”

Kiva blinked, realizing that while her fellow prisoners had reclaimed their tools, she was just standing there, staring at her hands again.

Hands that were covered in blood.