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An ear-splitting screech clawed at my ears. It pulsed and throbbed as the taste of blood rose in my throat. I slammed my hands over my ears as hundreds of tiny shadows crawled up the walls, pouring out of the flame on the altar. It was the opposite of the lights in the cave — malevolent, destructive energy coursed through the room with the shadows that were now moving from wall to wall like a swarm of angry insects. My bones were vibrating with the screech that hadn’t let up.

My whole body began to ache, and before long that ache turned into searing pain, every inch of my skin burning as if I laid alight on a pyre. I opened my mouth to scream but it felt like a fist was wrapped around my throat, choking the noise back down.

“Krevok!” Umbri commanded, and the shadows halted, the scream in the room dying down to a faint whistle. All the pain left my body as if that’s exactly what Umbri had commanded it to do. “Vrel nia sangu minu ke sraa.”

The Bloodsinger gave a small nod to Lord Castemont, who quietly cleared his throat.

“Please show the young guard, Belin Cal Myrin, the future I’m proposing to him.”

What?

All at once the screech resumed and the shadows began to move again. This time they grew until they cast the entire room in complete darkness once again. The candles snuffed out with a hiss as the pitch black settled around me. “Lord Castemont?” I called frantically.

No answer. My breath caught as I blinked against the black.

“We’re going to be late to the meeting with the Royal Treasury.”

A room materialized around me, and I squinted hard against the sudden bright light. I was in…a room. A massive, opulently furnished room, with a desk made of carved white stone that matched the floors. Art hung from every wall in intricate gold frames, and the ceiling was painted to match. A large, overstuffed settee sat opposite two equally overstuffed chairs, a low marble table in the middle with a pitcher and wine goblets neatly arranged.

“Cal, did you hear me? We’re going to be late.” I whirled to see Aunt Berna standing toward the back of the room near a soaring window. The sun was so bright I could barely make out a large body of water behind her as my eyes adjusted. Her face flashed with concern as I stared at her, dumbfounded. “Are you well, dear?”

My feet started moving before I could stop them. The view from the window became clearer as I neared it.Eserene. The harbor stretched to the horizon as the districts of the city lay before me. I was…

I was in the castle.

I spun to Aunt Berna, grabbing her by the arms. “Where are we?”

“What?” she asked, her face plastered with confusion and concern.

“Where are we?” I shouted again, shaking her.

“What do you… We’re in your keep.” Her eyes were wider than I’d ever see them as she stared at me.

My arms dropped to my sides and I blinked as I tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.How am I–

The door suddenly swung open, and an exquisitely-dressed Lord Castemont strolled in with a bundle of papers in his arms. “Your Majesty,” he said cheerfully as he bowed his head. “I have the reports you requested.”

Your Majesty?I stepped back, my hand instinctively going to my sword at my hip but finding nothing there. I wasn’t wearing my leathers anymore. I was in a white surcoat embroidered with gold, nicer than anything I’d ever owned. My eyes caught on Lord Castemont, a sly grin on his face.

“What happened?” I demanded, my tone sharp.

He raised a brow, a look of satisfaction on his face before turning to Aunt Berna. “Berna, dear, would you be so kind as to give us a few moments alone?”

Aunt Berna’s face was still the picture of pure confusion as she gave a small nod and leaned in to plant a kiss on the Lord’s cheek. She looked at me for one more moment, her eyes searching mine, before quietly shuffling out of the room.

“Have a seat,” the Lord offered as he sat down on the overstuffed settee in the center of the room.

I was dazed as I lowered myself onto one of the chairs. “How? We were in Blindbarrow.”

“You’re the King of Widoras, Cal. Well, I suppose I should say King Belin,” he said as if he were simply stating a fact.

“How?” I demanded.

“It won’t take much convincing for King Umfray to make you his heir. He’ll be so happy to learn his second cousin sired more than his share of bastards.”

I perked up for a moment. “So my father is King Umfray’s second cousin?”

“No. You have no blood relation to the King. But the resemblance is strong enough to be more than believable. And he was so happy to have an heir that he didn’t care that your claim to the throne wasn’t legitimate.”