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Thea’s blood went cold. ‘What?’

Wren forged on, still trailing her fingers across their written lineage. ‘But there was no royal announcement of any heirs being born before Delmira fell, no official line of succession.’

‘Broken kingdom or not, you are storm wielders,’ Audra replied. ‘There is no denying that you are the trueborn heirs of the Embervale family.’

Wren glanced from their warden to Thea, looking nervous. ‘Then we can take back the kingdom? Thea can reclaim the Delmirian throne?’

Thea was convinced she was misunderstanding. There was no way that her alchemy-loving sister was considering such a ridiculous notion, was there? Wren was too clever for that.

To Thea’s surprise, Audra was more patient than usual. ‘While that law does require the kingdoms to help heirs rebuild, it’s not so simple. Delmira is known as the dark stain on the midrealms’ history… And the children of adversaries are not celebrated.’

Thea’s ears were ringing now.

Audra wasn’t done. ‘Think about it. What existing rulers will want to pour their coin and limited resources into the rebuilding of a kingdom that might once again try to overthrow them?’

Wren made a noise of frustration. ‘It sounds like you’re trying to convince us to keep ourselves a secret… To hide.’

‘That is between the heirs of Delmira and no one else. I’m trying to convince you to besmart,’ Audra cautioned.

Wren turned to Thea, her eyes bright, as though she’d heard none of Audra’s warnings. ‘Think what this could mean, Thee. Imagine what you could change… You could see women warriors return to Thezmarr. Or start a women warrior guild of your own. Reclaim your throne, our kingdom and —’

‘What throne? What kingdom?’ Thea shook her head in disbelief, her chest painfully tight. ‘I have no interest in being an heir of a fallen kingdom. I have no desire to rule over lands that fester and host swarms of shadow wraiths. The only reason I am here is to learn how to master my magic, so that I might be a stronger Warsword, a better protector of the midrealms.’

Silence slid between them like a bolt into a lock.

A long moment passed, amplifying the unnatural void of quiet.

Dread unfurled in the pit of Thea’s stomach. ‘What?’

‘Althea…’ Audra said gently.

Gentlewas not in Audra’s nature. That alone was enough to startle Thea, to clamp her teeth down on the inside of her cheek.

Audra’s hand slid across the table towards her. ‘You cannot bebotha storm wielder and a Warsword.’

Thea drew back from her touch, staring at the librarian. ‘What?’

‘The laws of the midrealms are ironclad. A born magic wielder cannot undertake the Great Rite. It has been this way for centuries. A Warsword has to be without bias towards any kingdom.’

Thea blinked slowly, feeling nauseous. ‘That’s…’ But she couldn’t finish her sentence.

‘You have to choose, Thea,’ Audra said. Any fleeting notes of compassion were gone. Her voice was now sharp with authority, with command.

Thea was still shaking her head, her hands trembling as she stood on unsteady feet. ‘I can’t.’

‘You must.’

Wren reached for her. ‘Thea, magic is a part of you. You can’t deny who you are. You’re an heir —’

That familiar storm of fury reared up inside her and Thea shoved her chair back, starting towards the door. ‘I already told you. I have no interest in ruling a kingdom of ruins.’

And with that, she left. She could give no more.

CHAPTER FOUR

WILDER

Wilder was hunched over a table in the library opposite Malik, a sea of open books between them. His brother stared intently at a page of footwork diagrams, his fingers braiding leather strings absentmindedly, his dog Dax curled up at his feet.