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Then abruptly, Ria jerked her arm free. “I have never been willing. He has threatened me with shame and ruin if I ever reveal the truth, but I no longer care. I was willing to feign death. At this point, I will accept actual death to escape him.”

Satisfaction filled Toren at her courage, though he couldn’t define why he cared that she’d stood up for herself. “And what is that truth?”

Her chin lifted, her expression going hard with pride. “My grandmother was part human, but my father didn’t find out until my mother was pregnant with me. He married her instead of casting her out, but not out of generosity or love. She worked in his shop until her death, creating and augmenting his rudimentary designs until he was quite wealthy, and when I showed the same skill, he brought me into the shop, too.”

“She was merely an assistant,” Belak insisted. “As are you.”

“You would have nothing but ill-conceived sketches without me,” Ria said, though she kept her gaze directed at Toren’s shoulder. “Your Majesties, please forgive theelek terin. I’ve had Enry searching for it for some time and gave no thought to the timing of his delivery. The authorities did not believe that my father had threatened me, but it is true. He swore that if I attempted to leave, he would hunt me down, and if I had children with the talent, he would take them, too. Pretending to be dead and then fleeing when I could was all I could think of.”

Toren’s magic trembled inside until he didn’t dare to move, a clear reflection of the fury that also wanted to spill out. And it wasn’t just the anger of a king who’d discovered that one of his subjects had essentially been held captive. This felt somehow personal. Ria had suffered this for years, and only a short walk away from the palace gates. It was unbearable.

“She is lying,” Belak said, his voice going high with panic. “I have always treated her well.”

Before Toren could form words, Ria fisted her skirts and tugged the fabric up. Mehl let out a choked sound as she extended her leg, but Toren wasn’t sure if it was because of the motion itself or the mottled yellow-blue-black bruises marring her skin from the top of her knee to her hip. Then she held out her other leg, this one somehow worse.

“This is how my father has treated me,” Ria said.

Toren’s hands clenched from the force of the magic clamoring for freedom.

“Shield,” he said, the command one only Mehl would fully understand.

But it had nothing to do with protection for himself.

No, this was to protect the others.

Chapter3

The Test

Though High King Toren’s expression had grown increasingly cold, Ria had forged ahead with her truth. But the look on his face when he snapped out a single word—shield—had her dropping her skirt in despair. He didn’t believe her. No one ever did.

Any moment, the guards would—

Pain seared her skull as her father whipped her around by her hair. “I will not allow your wicked lies to ruin me.”

For once, she didn’t feel fear, not even from the relentless burn of her scalp. No, triumph rushed through her at the panic in his usually haughty blue eyes. His false lordly airs were gone now, weren’t they? Despite his words, they both knew she’d already succeeded in destroying his carefully plotted world.

“Too late,” she dared to say.

His other hand swung toward her face, and Ria braced for the impact. This time, it would be worth it. So worth it.

But another hand gripped her father’s wrist, stopping the motion, and when she followed the arm to its owner, her heart slammed at the sight of King Mehl himself preventing the blow. Guards rushed up like useless ants to surround them, but the king didn’t let go.

“Completing that action would be a deadly mistake,” King Mehl said, so calmly he might have been discussing his preferred color for his new set of clothes.

Belak tugged against the king’s hold.

It didn’t work.

“If you do not release her hair, I will detach your hand from her at the wrist.”

It took so long her father must have let go one finger at a time. But finally, the pain eased, and she let out a sigh of relief as the pressure on her scalp subsided. A relief that was short-lived. Something shoved hard against her shoulder, sending her hurtling forward until she slammed heavily against King Mehl.

Her breath left her in a rush with the impact, and fear clawed at her chest. She didn’t have permission to touch the king. Had it looked like she’d attacked him? Ria stiffened, preparing for the cold bite of a sword through her body from one of the guards.Any moment now.Instead, King Mehl’s arm curled around her, pulling her tightly to his side.

Ria dared a glance up in time to see the king release her father’s arm, but it wasn’t a victory for the wretched man. Two guards swarmed forward to detain Belak, and when he struggled, one of them cracked him over the head with the hilt of his blade. Before she’d processed what had happened, her father was bound at the king’s feet.

“Take him to the dungeon,” King Mehl commanded.