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The wave of fury that swept through me was only cooled by the realization that she spoke the truth. That empty, cold part of me stirred. I didn’t know what I would do, but it would be horrific, and I knew that.

That was why I’d made Kieran make that promise.

I looked away, shaking my head. “Will you send food to Casteel? Fresh food?” I took a shaky breath. “Please.”

“Do you think you deserve that?” Callum asked. “Better yet, do you really think he does?”

Spinning around, I’d already grasped the dagger at his hip by the time he registered that I’d moved. I slammed the blade deep into his chest and into his heart.

A flicker of shock widened his eyes as he looked down at the hilt of the dagger.

“I wasn’t speaking to you,” I snarled, letting go of the blade.

“Dammit,” he muttered, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He toppled over like a pile of bricks, hitting the floor. The back of his head met the stone with a satisfyingly loud crack.

Millicent choked on what sounded like a laugh.

“You just stabbed my Revenant.” Isbeth sighed.

“He’ll be fine, won’t he?” I faced her. “Will you please send fresh food and water to Casteel?”

“Yes, but only because you asked nicely.” The Blood Queen flicked a glance at Callum. “Get him out of here.”

A Royal Knight stepped forward.

“Not you.” The Blood Queen threw a glare in Millicent’s direction. “Since you find this so amusing, you can be the one who cleans it up.”

“Yes, my Queen.” Millicent stepped forward and gave such an elaborate bow it could only be a mockery.

The Blood Queen’s lips pressed together in a thin line as she watched the Handmaiden. The interaction between the two was…different.

Isbeth turned her attention back to me, her head tilted. The light cut across her face, revealing a thin strip of slightly deeper-colored skin at her hairline. Powder. She wore some sort of powder to make her skin paler. To help her blend in with the Ascended.

“How have you kept your identity a secret from every Ascended?” I asked.

A brow arched. “Don’t forget that vamprys were once mortal, Penellaphe. And while they have left many of those trappings behind, they still see only what they want to see. Because looking too closely at things often makes one uncomfortable. Unsure. Not even vamprys enjoy living like that. So, like those mortals upstairs,” she said, tilting her chin up, “and in all of Solis, they’d rather be oblivious to what is right in front of them than feel doubt or fear.”

There was some truth to her words. I, myself, hadn’t pried too deeply. It was terrifying to start peeling back the layers, but others had the courage. “And what happens to the Ascended who do look closely?”

“They are dealt with,” she answered. “Just as anyone else would be.”

In other words, they were killed, as would be any Descenter. Disgust crowded my breath. “Why lie, though? You could pretend to be a god to the people.”

The Blood Queen smiled. “Why would I need to, when they already believe I am the closest thing to one?”

“But you’re not. So, why? Do you fear that they would see you as you are? Nothing more than a false god?”

Her smile didn’t waver. “Mortals are easily influenced. They can be convinced of anything by nearly anyone. Take from them, then give them something or someone to blame, and even the most righteous will fall prey to that. I’d rather have them believe that all Ascended are godlike. That way, there are many instead of a few that they will not question. One person cannot rule a kingdom and keep the masses in line,” she shared. “You should know that, Penellaphe.”

“I know you shouldn’t need to keep anyone in line or rule with lies.”

Isbeth laughed softly. “That is a very optimistic way of looking at things, my child.”

The patronizing tone struck every nerve in my body. “Your rule is built on nothing but lies. You told the people in the Great Hall that the cities to the north and east had fallen. Do you really think they will not learn the truth?”

“The truth doesn’t matter.”

“How can you believe that?” I shook my head. “The truth matters, and it will be known. I took those cities without killing innocents. Those who called those places home still do. They either know I’m not this Harbinger, or they will soon learn that—”

“And you think that will happen here? In Masadonia? Pensdurth?” Her eyes searched mine. “That you will be successful in this campaign when you, yourself, are lying?”

My hands curled into fists. “How am I lying?”

“You are the Harbinger,” she said. “You just don’t want to believe it.”

Anger pulsed through me, quickly followed by a surge of apprehension. I looked at the long shadowy corridor, inhaling deeply. The musty scent was familiar, wiggling an old memory free.