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Screams tore through the evening air. Even the queen recoiled, her expression shifting from amusement to wide-eyed horror.

‘Are you all right?’ Kai’s hands landed on her shoulders, steady and firm.

Mal could barely find her breath. ‘I… don’t…’

‘What was that?’ someone gasped from the crowd.

Without another word, Kai pulled her from the chair and into the depths of the garden, weaving through the maze of hedges until the hum of shocked voices faded behind them. Hidden among the shadows, Mal pressed a hand against her stomach, steadying herself.

‘I lost control.’

‘I saw.’ Kai exhaled, running a hand through his black hair.

Mal swallowed, her voice low. ‘Did anyone notice it was me?’

He frowned, thoughtful. ‘I doubt that. How could they? Whatever you have… it doesn’t work the same way witch magic does.’

‘What do you mean?’

Kai hesitated, glancing around as if ensuring they were truly alone. Then, lowering his voice, he explained, ‘Witches have this sort of green smoke appear on their fingertips when they do magic.’

Mal’s thoughts returned to the two witches she had encountered before—Dawn and Allegra—hovering over the ruins of the fallen Kingdom of Magic, emerald smoke curling from their hands like mist. What did it mean that she could do unexplainable things but bore no such mark of power?

Her hands clenched at her sides. ‘Why is no one taking the attack we suffered in the wastelands seriously?’

Kai sighed, weary. ‘It is not the time nor the place.’

‘Well, I think it is.’

He hesitated. Then, perhaps to finally silence her persistence, he said, ‘Sometimes, on rare occasions, during patrols in certain areas of the wastelands, there are attacks. We keep it under control. I did not tell you, sister, because there are always a few witches trying to scare us. That is all.’

Mal’s chest tightened. For years he has hidden this from me. Her voice was cool, distant. ‘We should return before someone notices.’

Kai studied her, reading the betrayal in her posture. His voice dropped into warning. ‘Try to keep your temper under control.’

‘It was not my fault.’

Kai rolled his eyes. ‘Sure, Mal. I believe you.’

She elbowed him, hard.

By the time they returned to the gathering, the music had resumed, and laughter bubbled through the air once more. The destruction had been brushed aside—dismissed as a mere malfunction of the tableware, nothing more than an unfortunate mishap to be laughed off.

Kai pressed a kiss to Mal’s cheek before disappearing into the revelry. She did not particularly care what he did, as long as he gave her space. Her anger still burnt, simmering beneath the surface.

A voice purred behind her. ‘Shall we take a walk, princess?’ Mal turned, grinning at the phoenixian prince as he extended a hand. ‘You look lovely.’

She arched a brow. ‘I was not aiming for lovely.’

Zahian Noor threw his head back with a rich laugh. ‘You are amusing, princess.’

Mal bared her fangs, sharp and gleaming. ‘I believe the word you are looking for, prince, is exquisite .’

Together, they wandered through the gardens, their path leading towards the river, where the red-stone bridge arched over the dark waters below. Zahian gestured towards the structure, his fingers brushing over the ancient carvings that adorned its sides.

‘Did you know the bridge tells the story of both kingdoms?’

Mal followed his gaze. ‘And what do the drawings say?’

She knew the stories—every child in her land did. But she wanted to hear them through another kingdom’s lips, to see if their tales aligned. Unbidden, her gaze searched the crowd, hunting for golden hair and unreadable eyes.

She sighed when she did not find him.

‘That Prince Hadrian Blackburn broke a marriage oath to Princess Aithne Acheron,’ Zahian began. ‘A witch cast a love spell over his mind, making him believe he loved her instead. He married the witch in secret… until she killed him.’

Mal traced a finger over the moss-covered stone, absorbing his words.

‘No one ever wondered why she went to such trouble?’

Zahian smirked. ‘The witches sought to create division between the kingdoms. They knew that forcing Prince Hadrian to break a marriage oath would lead to war—a war between the Kingdom of Fire and the Kingdom of Darkness.’

Mal’s lips pressed together. ‘But it didn’t. They turned on the witches instead.’

‘Because they were the true culprits.’

She tilted her head, watching the river ripple beneath them. ‘Or because it was a perfect excuse for the other kingdoms to overpower them.’

Zahian chuckled, a lock of his black hair falling over his red eyes. ‘I suppose we will never know the truth. It was a long time ago, a war fought by men who no longer breathe.’

‘And yet here we are, still speaking of it.’ Mal’s eyes darted back to the party, her breath stilling as she caught sight of golden eyes in the crowd. Watching.

‘Whatever happened to the Fire Princess?’ she asked, forcing herself to look away.

‘She married Prince Sorin.’

‘He was from your kingdom, was he not?’

‘Indeed.’ Zahian leaned in, his proximity shifting the very air between them.

Mal tensed, glancing over her shoulder—Ash was still there, his stare burning, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, he looked as though he might step forward, might rip Zahian from her side and toss him into the river below.

Zahian’s voice dropped into a knowing murmur. ‘So your dear husband has phoenixian blood in his veins. Princess Aithne had no siblings, so when her son was born, he became the next Fire King.’

Mal considered this. ‘And what happens if the drakonians do not have a son?’

Zahian’s red eyes gleamed with amusement. He had definitely noticed Ash watching them. ‘Women are not permitted to inherit the throne in this land, princess. If your husband and you do not have a son, the throne passes to the closest male in line.’

‘Alina’s children, if she marries.’

‘Exactly. If she does not have a son, it moves again to the next closest male.’

Mal snorted. ‘ Let me guess. That would be you.’

Zahian’s lips curled. ‘Yes. That would be me.’

The sun had surrendered to the horizon, allowing night to settle over them. Fireworks bloomed in the distance, explosions of colour flaring against the dark sky. Mal arched a brow. ‘Wouldn’t you be unavailable? You have a kingdom to rule.’

Zahian chuckled, his red eyes glinting in the firelight. ‘I have many siblings, princess. My sister Mareena is first in line. I am far from needed.’

Mal smirked. ‘Then I suppose you will be praying that I do not have a son.’

She searched for Ash again. But he had already turned away.

A strange chill traced down her arms.

Zahian smiled. ‘I wouldn’t worry about that yet, princess. You have just married. Besides—King Egan has plans for me already.’

Mal frowned. ‘What plans?’

His smile deepened. ‘I am to marry Alina Acheron.’