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Leon

T he day I die and get to the Eternal Realm, or the Gloamlands—which, at this point, seems likelier—I’d like to ask whichever god put me there a few important questions. Starting with who exactly I pissed off so much that my plans always have to go to shit.

We’re not meant to be here, now, following my grandfather’s smug attack dog Velrir across the grounds. This is exactly where I wanted us not to be, and there’s only so much bad luck a man can take before it starts to feel personal.

We enter the palace through the south wing, a route that takes us past the banquet hall, doors flung open so we get a good view as we pass, and the ballroom too.

The three chandeliers that float above it are reflected in a floor polished to such a shine it looks like a mirror.

I roll my eyes because I know it’s no accident Velrir has taken this way.

Where my grandfather is concerned, everything is a game. And the name of this game is “Intimidate the Human Queen.” This palace is far older and grander than the one at Elmere. He wants to remind her we were here long before her family and will be here long afterward.

It’s exactly this kind of nonsense I was hoping to avoid.

I thought if I brought Ana straight to Fairon that maybe she could heal him, and we could then leave Lavail without ever having to encounter my grandfather.

But, of course, nothing escapes King Respen.

I can only hope I can keep her out of whatever political maneuvering he has in store for her.

Because he will try to turn this to his advantage in some way, I can guarantee that. I haven’t prepared her for this, and part of me is screaming at myself, telling me to grab her and bundle her out of this viper’s nest before it’s too late.

Except I still need her here to help Fairon.

My frustration flares at the mess of it all, making me stop walking abruptly.

“You can leave us now, Captain Velrir,” I say.

The fool spins on his heel, eyeing me.

“I believe His Majesty wanted me to escort you to him directly, Your Highness,” he says with his usual trick of making my title sound like it tastes bad in his mouth.

“Why would I need an escort?” I say coldly. “Have you forgotten I live here?”

Fucking Velrir. We trained together as young soldiers.

He never got over the severe beating I gave him on our second day, and I never got over what a foul bully he was.

But his sensic power allows him to rifle through people’s recent memories, and of course, that makes him an extremely useful tool to my grandfather.

Enough to promote him and keep him lurking around the palace.

The captain gives me a poisonous smile and bows before turning on his heel and stalking away.

“That poor man obviously still has no friends,” Alastor says thoughtfully. “Otherwise, someone would’ve told him by now how utterly ridiculous that mustache looks.”

Most of my unit snicker, no more fans of Velrir than I am, but I’m too tense to join in the fun.

“Come on,” I say. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Should I be worried?” Ana asks, and I hesitate before I answer.

“My grandfather has been allies with your family for many years. And he won’t like your aunt’s collaboration with the Temple, so he’ll be on your side as far as that goes.

But just be careful. Remember that he’s clever, and not above using his sensic power when it suits him.

He can make you feel paranoid, like everyone’s against you.

And he always has Filusia’s interests at heart, above all else. ”

She nods, her face taking on that wonderfully determined expression she gets, the one that convinces me she could achieve anything she wanted.

Naturally, my grandfather is in the throne room—the best place to emphasize his power.

His huge golden seat surrounds him like a ring of light, the top flaring outward on either side into big prongs that always reminded me of wings.

He settles his hands on the end of each arm as we enter, his long silver hair brushing against his robes of deep ocher.

“Your Majesty,” I say, bowing. He’ll tolerate me calling him grandfather, but I know he prefers the formality. “Allow me to introduce Her Highness, Princess Morgana Angevire of Trova.”

Ana curtseys and looks as if she might speak, but my grandfather beats her to it.

“At last.” He beckons us forward. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d fallen into that lake.”

Despite his age, his voice is as strong as ever, sharp and tough as steel.

“We were visiting Fairon,” I say.

“I know.” His eyes flick over to Ana, and I feel a sudden urge to step in front of her, shielding her from that pointed gaze. “Much has changed since your trip to Trova. I wish circumstances were better all around.”

He leans forward, fixing me with an intense stare from his pale blue eyes. “For instance, the fact that your diplomatic mission couldn’t have been more of a disaster.”

“I was pitted against circumstances beyond my control, Your Majesty,” I say. There’s no point trying to guess what he wants to hear; that was always more Fairon’s skill.

Is . I correct myself mentally. It is Fairon’s skill .

But that’s never been how it works between Respen and me.

Instead, I always frustrate him, which usually provokes some kind of dressing down.

I listen, letting his tirades wash over me, and then go back to whatever trouble I was making in the first place.

Maybe it’s not the healthiest arrangement, but it’s been the way our relationship has functioned for the last hundred years.

“Beyond your control?” my grandfather says. “You’re stronger than that weak excuse, Leonidas. Though I suppose I am partially to blame. I sent you there, after all. The fact that you left having generated more conflict, not less, with our neighbors is just an inescapable product of your nature.”

I dip my head slightly, glad that he’s at least acknowledging his mistake. He should’ve never sent a soldier to do a diplomat’s job. His constant attempts to shape me into Fairon’s replacement will always fail, not least because Fairon isn’t going to need a replacement. Not if I have any say.

“However, I’m of course pleased to see Princess Morgana safe and well.” He lifts a wizened hand to gesture to Ana. “I must offer my deepest condolences, princess, for the loss of your parents. They were great allies to us during your mother’s reign.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she says, lifting her chin to look my grandfather in the eye.

“I feel compelled to tell you that we have reason to believe my aunt, Lady Oclanna, assassinated my parents and tried to do the same to me. When she failed, thanks to the efforts of Prince Leonidas, she instead attempted to frame me for their murders, along with your grandson. I’m grateful for the prince’s protection since then, and that our allies in Filusia can, through him, know the truth of what really happened. ”

My grandfather can be intimidating at the best of times, but I’m pleased that there’s no trace of nervousness in Ana’s voice.

“Indeed, that is very distressing news, Princess Morgana,” Grandfather says. I wonder how much of this he already knows from his spies. From the way his gaze shifts over to me, probing, I suspect he still has some gaps in his knowledge, and that gnaws at him.

But giving him more pieces of the puzzle might be the way to turn this thing in our favor.

I don’t trust him to care about Ana’s interests, but I do trust him to care about his own.

If we play this right, we can show him that the mission to Trova has been far from a total loss, and that Ana’s presence here is a boon.

“Yes, it is distressing,” I agree. “Except good has come of this too. Princess Morgana made a discovery after she was forced to flee Elmere. She is a solari—and a very special one indeed.”

I feel Ana turn her head sharply toward me. She didn’t know I was going to tell him this, but I’m sure this is the best way forward. Respen will have no choice but to see Ana’s value once he realizes she’s our best chance at saving Fairon.

Fairon, the heir upon whom all Respen’s hopes had been piled.

When he became sick, it hit home for all of us that his death would mean the kingdom would be left with me—the brute without tact or a knack for the kind of quiet plotting a king needs.

Naturally, Respen would jump at the chance to get Fairon back.

My grandfather examines Ana, assessing what this information means.

“Why, Princess Morgana, it seems the gods have stacked the odds against you. A solari in Trova is a complicated thing to be. But I wonder what my grandson means by ‘special.’”

Ana doesn’t look pleased, but she doesn’t hesitate to answer, either.

“He means that I’m able to use my celestial magic in multiple ways, Your Majesty,” she says. “To the point that I may be able to offer you some assistance.”

My grandfather raises a silver eyebrow but sits back in his throne, inviting us to continue. Ana glances at me again, giving me permission to continue.

“I have spoken to Proctor Gallis at Vastamae,” I say. “She believes the princess might be able to use an ancient form of celestial magic to revive Fairon.”

My grandfather’s stare intensifies, and he says nothing for a few moments. I’ve surprised him, and he doesn’t like that.

“You have been busy, Leonidas,” he says, his voice deadly calm. “I wonder why you didn’t consult with me about this before.”

“Princess Morgana discovered her magic unexpectedly during our travels. It developed very quickly from there, growing in unexpected ways. Our knowledge of it was changing every day, and I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up about Fairon until we were sure she could help.”