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A chill slices straight through me as I understand the implications of what he’s saying.

“You’re suggesting he branded solari as heretics because then they could be hunted down and he could, what, feed off them?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

My mind fills with all the whispers about solari being hauled off to the holy city and never being heard of again.

I knew they were being executed—probably even in horrible, painful ways to cleanse their souls—but this is somehow worse.

There is no crime against the gods, only a greedy, powerful man murdering to make himself even more powerful.

Fear claws at me. Caledon has the whole weight of the Temple behind him, and now, thanks to my aunt, he has control of the Trovian crown too.

How many solari has he killed over the decades, and how many more will die now that his control over Trova is absolute?

There’ll be no hiding when he has the Trovian army under his command and unfettered access to the royal territories.

That’s if you’re going to believe everything Respen is telling you.

Underneath my fear, that suspicion lingers.

Everything Respen has told me is entirely new.

I only have his word for it, which means I have to carefully consider the source.

He could be making all of this up. Or, more likely, he could be telling me the truth, but a curated version of it.

One that tells me only what he wants me to know so he can push me to act in a way that’s most beneficial to him.

Except that consuming darkness Respen describes is familiar to me. And not just from curing Fairon. I’ve seen it before, in the eyes of the fae who attacked me at the Lyceum. That deep, black hunger terrified me.

We know the fae was using his sensic powers to channel someone else into his mind. Could that person have been Caledon?

He wanted you alive so he could drain you himself.

If that’s why Parvus didn’t try to kill me, then I’m in even more danger than I thought.

Panic twists in my gut, and at the same time I realize I’ve left my mental defenses down for too long.

Respen’s eyes are fixed on me, hard with focus, and I’m sure he’s starting to worm his sensic power into my mind.

I fight to resurrect the steel wall around my consciousness as he speaks.

“I know much of this is surprising to you, Princess Morgana. But this is why I called this meeting. You see, targeting your aunt at this time is not the best thing for Trova. It’s much more pressing that when you return to your country, you remove Marek Caledon from power first. He has become much too bold lately, recruiting the Morelium— my subjects—to enact his schemes in my kingdom. He must be stopped.”

My walls are up, but the pressure is building against them, and I can feel slivers of paranoia getting through. I try to tell myself it’s not real as I process Respen’s words.

The attack at the Lyceum seems to point to Caledon being the one really in control. The Morelium are a fae cult, and it doesn’t make sense for them to be persuaded to do my aunt’s bidding, but following the orders of the high priest of the Ethirans is another matter.

Still, whatever he says, I know what’s best for Trova is not and has never been Respen’s priority. And I know one way to easily prove that.

“Thank you for sharing all this with me, Your Majesty,” I say as I continue to shove Respen’s magic out of my mind. “I agree it’s very important to remove Caledon as soon as possible. If I were to prioritize that upon my return to Trova, could I count on Filusia’s support?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Respen says, pleased.

“I’m glad to hear it. As you know, with my aunt currently claiming the throne, I have no armies to command and few resources. Filusia’s military and other assets will be a big help.”

Respen’s eyes narrow, and I know I’ve succeeded in catching him off guard.

“I’m afraid you misunderstand me, Princess Morgana.

Of course you have Filusia’s support in spirit .

However, it would be unwise for my kingdom to combat the Temple openly at this time.

Surely even someone new to the political realm can see that doing so would almost certainly guarantee war between the two nations, and nobody wants that. ”

I brush aside his condescending remarks because I was expecting his refusal.

However he may choose to frame it, Respen, a master of spreading paranoia, is afraid.

The fae are very powerful, it’s true, but I’ve read enough history books to know that Trova has a much bigger population than Filusia.

There are just simply more humans than fae—we breed faster, even if we die quicker.

And while we don’t have sensic powers, a terrial power can still do quite a lot of damage.

A war with Trova would be no easy victory for Filusia.

The only certainty is that it would be extremely bloody, with who knows how many fae dying in the process—population they can’t afford to spare.

Not when it’s been a mere century since their last war.

Respen wants the Temple weakened, but he’s only willing to fight that battle from the shadows, sending me forward as a sacrificial pawn. He’s more than happy for me to take all the risks. Except I won’t be his pawn. And I won’t go after Caledon. Certainly not now.

I give Respen an understanding nod.

“I see you’re in a difficult position, Your Majesty. And you’ve certainly given me a lot to think about. I will have to take a few days to consider your suggestion,” I say.

“By all means,” he says.

I already know there’s no way I’m going to be a docile little princess and do what he tells me. I wasn’t lying to him about my limited resources. There’s no way I could march into Qimorna tomorrow and overthrow the Temple, even if I wanted to.

The question is, will I ever want to?

I don’t have the armies or the allies to fight the Temple.

And to get them, I’d need to be sitting on the Trovian throne—a solari queen that surely most of the population would fear and hate.

I don’t even know if I want that kind of power, or to wield it over a kingdom that doesn’t want me.

But I do want my aunt dead—that fire for revenge still burns within me.

On the other hand, Respen’s words might have awoken a new flame—one that wants to see my country free of the corrupt Temple that’s controlling it. I’m just not sure how bright that flame will burn.

We walk back through the garden, and I’m relieved that I’m close to escaping the fae king. My head is starting to throb from the overpowering perfume of the flowers and Respen’s constant mental attacks.

“There’s one last piece of advice I must offer you, Princess Morgana,” Respen says as we approach the doors to the palace.

My relief stops in its tracks.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“I fear Leonidas may have misled you during your travels.”

My heart starts to sink. Whatever this is about, I can tell I’m not going to like it.

“How so?”

Respen looks at me like I’m a naive child. I guess I am one, compared to him, but that doesn’t make his condescension any more pleasant.

“I’m aware that the two of you became close, but you should know that he cannot offer you what you want.”

I blink, surprised at how much Respen’s words echo Damia’s.

“Prince Leonidas hasn’t made me any promises, Your Majesty,” I say stiffly. At least, not where romance is concerned.

“And he won’t,” Respen says abruptly. “He’s the King’s Sword, and any other commitment comes secondary to that.

I had hopes for his betrothal, of course, as that has been in place for so long…

” He sighs. “But it’s clear even to me now that the only thing he can commit to is this kingdom.

He’s better off not being distracted from his responsibility to it. ”

I hear Respen loud and clear: Stay away from Leon, if you know what’s good for you.

But I would face the aisthekis again before I’d accept that Respen knows what’s good for me.

I smile blithely at him and nod, and together we climb the steps up to the terrace. I look back over the garden before we head inside.

“I suppose one day your statue will be here too, Your Majesty,” I say. “A reminder to future generations when your time on the throne has come to an end.”

His pale eyes narrow a fraction.

“Yes, one day , Princess Morgana. Though I can assure you that won’t be for a very long time yet.”