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Evrardin stared at the ornate details engraved on the princess’ door after she promptly slammed it in his face.

He shouldn’t have allowed himself to get that close to her, to have almost kissed her. What the fuck was he thinking? She belonged to Acastus. Regardless, he would never be able to express his feelings to her—unsure of what his feelings toward her even were.

Maybe he didn’t hate her as much as he first thought. And he’d be blind to say she wasn’t pretty. But he couldn’t just use her for a quick tryst—she was a princess. And betrothed to his prince, no less. She wasn’t some commoner he could use to forget about his pathetic existence for one night.

He told himself he could handle that. Knowing that he couldn’t have her the way he desired, using her solely to satisfy his lust.

The way he desired , fuck. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. Did he want the princess? There was no way he’d ever desire someone as insolent as her. Maybe it was the way she spoke to him so plainly and honestly, that brattiness—something he didn’t realize he wanted if only because he was envious he couldn’t act like that himself.

He stood outside her door a few moments longer, his fingers itching to knock and see her face again.

He cursed himself out before storming off. He was royally screwed.

Evrardin tried to avoid presenting the prince with bad news—it was in his best interest. Presently, he had no choice but to stride into the prince’s quarters with nothing but a tainted piece of rolled parchment.

“My Prince,” he revered, his formidable presence doing nothing to unsettle Cas like it once used to.

“Is it done, then?” Acastus asked without looking up. He sat across from one of his contemporaries, engaged in a game of river stones.

Evrardin remained silent, patiently waiting for Cas to finally glance at him out of sheer annoyance. He scoffed before flicking his wrist, signaling the man sitting across from him to leave.

When the man scurried away, leaving the two alone, Cas stood and languidly circled the river stones table that had been enchanted to have a cerulean stream coursing over the tabletop, cascading down to the floor. “Care to explain yourself?” he asked Evrardin, the venom rolling off his tongue with indolence.

Ev simply held out the parchment for Cas to take. As Cas opened the scroll with curious eyes, Evrardin spoke. “The Fae King no longer wishes to work amicably to restore alliances between our two kingdoms. He is insisting on war.”

Acastus’ eyes lazily scanned the letter. “Bloody hell.” Cas’ voice had a boyish rise to it that lingered between his sharp teeth. “I’m assuming this is going to hinder our efforts to get the Fae King’s heart, then?”

Our . The word left a sour taste in Ev’s mouth. There was no participation from the prince apart from the orders he dealt. This excursion fell solely on Evrardin.

“How predictable,” Acastus spat, his fearsome tone now heightened in a tantrum. “The Fae King retreats from yet another covenant between our kingdoms. And he thinks it will be quite the effortless triumph, no doubt.” Acastus threw the parchment into the fireplace on the far side of the room before waltzing back to Evrardin. “I mean, when was the last time Solstrale won a war?”

“I don’t pretend to be suitable counsel for tactical war campaigns.” Evrardin shifted in his worn boots, dragging his foot on the floor in concentration to keep from lashing out. This all could have been prevented. But Evrardin suspected Acastus planned to go to war this entire time, regardless of the fresh news from the Fae King.

Solstrale had been known for its vigorous army until King Acanthus’ reign. The military had dwindled, so many of the Sun People growing sickly from the lack of viable vegetation as Acanthus broke allegiances with the fae. The fae were the one thing keeping Solstrale together, fae magick having constructed all its provinces. Now, with Acanthus refusing to aid the fae, they’ve finally severed ties in their entirety. The darkness that was still growing across the land had more to do than with just Acastus, the lack of fae magick was hastening the shift to a shambled city.

“Hmm,” Cas hummed. “I’m sure they’ll be at the ready now, don’t you think?”

Evrardin nodded. “Not sure I’d make it out of there with them preparing for battle.”

He was sure Acastus didn’t care about his safe return, but rather, he needed the heart of a king and wouldn’t do much to get it himself. For that reason, he still needed the captain alive.

Evrardin was a little relieved that he no longer had to spy his way into Faerie, but his relief was hindered knowing that stealing the Fae King’s heart was no longer a viable solution to end this war in the hopes that the next fae ruler would be more amicable toward Solstrale. Evrardin wasn’t convinced it would’ve even unfolded that way, but the chances were screwed down to an abysmal zero, so it didn’t matter in the end.

And now this meant he’d just have to steal another monarch’s heart for Acastus’ ruinous plan.

Acastus’ hands clasped behind his back, his hands sheathed in dark leather, a stark contrast to his loose cream shirt. Evrardin swore he could see an inky trail edging up the back of his neck as he paced, the curse only spreading as the days ticked by.

“My father, then.”

Evrardin blinked before tilting his head like a dog. “Your… King Acanthus ?”

“Yes, that is who my father is,” Acastus said tersely.

“What about him?” Evrardin managed through clenched teeth.

“We’ll take his heart. If we can’t take the Fae King’s, we’ll take my father's. We don’t have enough time to change plans and scout out another kingdom.”

Evrardin may have been a man of little emotions, but he still didn’t expect to be as stunned as he presently was. His eyebrows cinched together as he watched the prince settle into his new idea.

“Cas, I don’t think?—”

“I don’t want your counsel, Evrardin,” he spat. “We are running out of time and options!” Acastus’ words screeched, his eyes going black, the smoke Evrardin thought he saw around his collar now spiraling to tickle the prince’s cheeks in full bloom.

Evrardin’s stance relaxed but his jaw tightened as he tracked Acastus’ movements. Cas slumped back into his settee, running a hand through his midnight hair, the ink on his skin subsiding slowly. “I still expect you to be the one to do it.”

Ev nodded.

“ A heart of a monarch and the thrum of new love ,” Acastus crooned, reciting the words he heard from Trana. “ An army of warriors, from the ground, to above.”

Evrardin still remembered the craze in Acastus’ eyes all those weeks ago as he told captain the Solar Sect was planning on helping him travel to the Veil.

Evrardin watched as the dark magick coursed through Acastus, his soul ripped apart as he teetered between realms. He had claimed to have spoken to Trana, a deity— the deity—of the Sun Court that had been slipping dangerously close to being forgotten. “It’s rather simple,” Acastus told him through bated breaths in the vast cathedral. “She insisted she’ll help regrow the Sun Court to its former glory, sick of rotting in the shadows of the other gods. She'll invite an army of Sun Warriors to bid at my will. All she needs is for my blood to be reignited with magick.” Acastus smiled wildly at Evrardin. “ A heart of a monarch and the thrum of new love. An army of warriors, from the ground, to above ,” he sung like he was caught in a dream.

“What does that entail, exactly?” Lord Alfson asked timidly. The other Solar Sect members glanced at one another.

“I’ll need to marry. Someone of another noble house so her magick can bind to mine. I’ll need as much power as possible to bring this prophecy to light.” Lord Alfson opened his mouth to speak, but Cas cut him off—Ev snickered. “First, I’ll need the hearts for our warriors. And as you just heard, the heart of a monarch.”

“That’s a lot of power to summon, My Prince,” the high priest spoke, stepping into the circle they were unconsciously forming around the marbled sun sigil on the floor.

“Yes, well, I’ll need a lot of power to raise an army worthy of Solstrale, wouldn’t you say?”

The Sect looked concerned.

Evrardin shook his head in disbelief as the Sect acted like this wasn’t part of their great plan to save the kingdom. “Cas, I don’t think this is the best way to ? —

“Do not speak unless spoken to,” Acastus commanded, not bothering to look in his direction. Evrardin’s lips instantly sealed. “Blood is the strongest magick we have.”

The high priest’s head turned to the side as he studied the prince. “And where would you like to begin?”

His words reminded Evrardin of the stakes. This deal he made was becoming more and more personal. The Sun King was now to be slaughtered at Evrardin’s hand and…

“A shame so much blood will be shed on my wedding day. They say that’s bad luck, do they not? But it’s not a proper wedding without a little violence,” Cas said flippantly, pouring himself a glass of wine.

An unrestrained thought raged and warred through the crevices in Evrardin’s mind. “You’re not to kill the princess,” Evrardin stated as more of a question. “You just had to be bonded to her for the ritual to work. You only needed her glassfairing ability, not her heart.”

Cas’ face filled with an evil smirk. “Trana wants hearts, Evrardin. In no scenario will anyone I require outlive this. You know that.” Cas gave him an almost pitiful look as he explained. “Mara is simply a means to an end. The final piece to true, unbesmirched restoration.”