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Xerxes blinked rapidly, his chest expanding, moisture appearing over his flesh. “I need to leave,” he said. Without explanation, he turned and marched down the hall, his royal coat fluttering behind him.

Ryn watched him go. For a split second, she imagined running after him and telling him,“You’re in danger. Assassins will come for you next. The B’rei Mira army will enter the palace.”

He just saved her life. Why couldn’t she find her voice to save his?

“Maiden?”

Ryn turned and found a man in an organizer’s robe approaching. She watched him tiptoe over the mess in the hallway, cradling a scroll beneath his arm. He didn’t seem surprised a fight had taken place, though he cast repulsed looks at the blood spots. He flicked the scroll open when he reached her.

“I’m here to help you select your charity. I apologize for the inconvenient timing.” He flashed a toothy smile. Ryn glanced at where the servants were finishing their washing. The hall looked new again—there was no trace anything had happened. It was over too fast.

The organizer held the scroll closer to Ryn’s face, and her gaze fell upon symbols and Weylin letters she didn’t recognize. She realized her hands were still trembling when she took hold of the scroll. She moved her eyes back and forth like she was reading it.

“You must choose a charity to support for the duration of the Heartstealer trials,” the organizer went on. “It’s part of the ancient custom. Every Heartstealer in our history has done service to the kingdom—”

“What about the First Temple?” Ryn said, lowering the scroll. “Can I do charity with the priestesses?”

Heva looked up in surprise from where she was still glued to the spot outside Ryn’s door.

The organizer made an odd face and took the scroll back, turning it toward himself. He dragged a pair of spectacles from his pocket and began scanning the list. “I’m not sure that’s an option, but— Oh! Would you look at that! It is.” He made another face and scratched his head. “Well, it’s only on the list for the purpose of tradition. That building isn’t still recognized as a temple even though it’s run by High Priestess Geovani—”

“I wish to volunteer my services to the priestesses,” Ryn said again. It came out strained past her thick throat. “I’ll check in with High Priestess Geovani in a couple of days after I’ve healed.”

“Uh… Well, I suppose it would be fitting for a Heartstealer to walk among the graceful and quiet priestesses. But the First Temple is in the Mother City—off the palace grounds…” The man’s brows tilted in, and he hesitated for a moment like he hoped Ryn might change her mind. When she didn’t, he noddedand added, “Perhaps they could use assistance in their daily meditations, acts of kindness, and soft-spoken teachings.”

Before the man could say anything else, Ryn swept around him. She placed a hand over her roiling stomach as she walked. She kept it there until she made it into her room, and her jaw dropped when she looked around.

The drapes were torn. The bedsheets were stabbed. There were gouges in the walls.

“By the Divinities, Heva! What happened in here?”

The King’s servants rolled in the carts of clothes: silk dresses, fresh nightgowns, glittering robes, leather sandals, and gold belts. As soon as the carts were inside, the servants bowed and excused themselves.

“I know I said assassins would come, but I didn’t expect them to come in packs,” Heva admitted bitterly as she closed the door behind them.

“How did you survive against three opponents?” Ryn eyed a torn painting on the floor. It was peeled down the middle in strips like blades had sliced clean through it—as if Heva had used it as a shield.

Heva folded her arms with a scowl. “I told you. I trained my whole life for this.” She tilted her head. “But enough about me. Did you really just volunteer to serve with Geovani? Don’t you think that’s dangerous? Aren’t you worried people will start to suspect you’re an Adriel?”

Ryn’s gaze flickered to the racks of clothes. Only minutes ago, she’d accused El of not having insight into her situation.

Even though she’d nearly been stabbed, Ryn laughed.

The First Temple wasn’t huge and glorious like Kai’s Priesthood Temple. In fact, it looked more like a shelter for the homeless. The whole right side was an open pavilion with beds where rugged-looking people slept and lounged. Ryn’s heart sank when she imagined Heva growing up that way—a young girl sleeping out in the open among strangers.

To the left of the temple were sparkling fields of wheat that went on for so long, Ryn couldn’t see the end of them. A wheat worker waved at her when he saw her looking.

Ryn waved back and rubbed her eyes. She hadn’t slept a wink the last few nights. Her side still ached, but the salve the physician put on every evening helped. She could walk normally and move around now, though she hadn’t gone anywhere except to a mandatory ‘royalty customs training session’ with the other maidens, and there was one breakfast banquet the maidens were forced to attend with the King. Xerxes hadn’t eaten a thing. He’d sat at the head of the long table with his chin resting on his fist, staring out the window and ignoring everyone. He’d looked so miserable that Ryn had snorted the tiniest, quietest laugh. She didn’t think anyone heard it over the chatter, but Xerxes’s gaze dragged back to the table and settled on her. He didn’t smile, but his frown evened out for a moment. Then he went back to staring out the window. One of the maidens—Calliope—glared at Ryn for the rest of breakfast, so Ryn hadn’t made another sound as she ate her pilaf, omelet, and meat kebab.

Apart from those two events, she only left her room in the mornings to visit the Abandoned Temple in the palace and sit in silence in the quiet presence of El.

“You stay outside and stand guard,” Heva directed the six Folke guards that had accompanied them through the city. The temple wasn’t far from the palace gates—it only took them a few minutes to get there on foot, and even though Ryn wore a disguise, the rest of the Folke hadn’t which drew stares from all who passed. Organizers had insisted Ryn travel by palanquin, stating it would be “catastrophic” for her image if normal citizens were to get too close or, heaven forbid—touchher, but she refused and promised to keep her face covered and her guards close.

Ryn had never breathed air fresher than the air outside the palace walls. She wanted to take the opportunity to visit Kai, but one look at her hovering Folke guards reminded her she was still a prisoner whether she was within the palace walls or not.

And Kai didn’t want her back anyway.

“This way,” Heva said to Ryn as she pulled open the thick, wooden temple door. Ryn tugged off her hood and followed Heva up a set of stairs.