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An expansive mirror leaned against the back wall on the dais, glimmering from the sun rays bleeding in from the red stained-glass windows. Mara held her breath as she stepped through the threshold, taking in the several heads that turned, the murmuring falling to silence.

Lord Alfson sat at the front of the small affair, his gray robe washing out his usually dark skin, now a pallid sheen. Several other men sat in the pews, but none she recognized beyond knowing they were members of the Sun Court. She assumed they were from the king’s council… which would now be the prince’s council if she was correct on the hierarchy. Or maybe they remained loyal to the king and would only support Acastus when he was married and sworn in.

Acastus’ eyes locked on her as she strolled down the aisle, her back stiff from her corset, and her mind reeling with all the possibilities. If she didn’t already know how cynical his stare actually was—the intentions behind his eyes—she might have fallen to her knees. He looked at her almost like he craved her—longed for her. The large statues of previous kings loomed as she passed under the pillars carved from stone. She pulled at the sleeve of her dress, the breathable material now suffocating.

She glanced at the Hallowed Cistern as she went up the steps to meet Acastus’ hand, blocking out her previous memories in this room. Looking over her shoulder, she realized Evrardin had left, nowhere to be seen. She thought he would have been behind her. She hated how isolated she suddenly felt.

Acastus stole her hand, pulling her into his space, his gloved fingers finding her chest, right above her heart. A silent gasp slipped past her lips. Acastus held his place on her heart as if he were counting the beats. It must have seemed so intimate to the audience.

Before she could process the words to speak, he dropped his hands and removed his gloves, shoving them into his pocket. Mara’s eyes rounded. Acastus’ hands were stained black, the skin appearing rotted and smokey like he had shoved his fists into a pile of ash.

“Your hands,” Mara noted foolishly.

“After today, the state of my skin will be no concern.” He gave her a saccharine smile. He let her study his appearance a moment longer before gesturing to the high priest. “Come. Let our houses unite.”

The time had finally arrived for her to take Acastus’ hand in holy matrimony—the symbolism of his tainted hand not lost on her. She was to be his wife. To become the Sun Queen one day soon. Though she had a strong inkling she might not make it that long.

Her throat itched and she swallowed to try and soothe it. The petals had gone down easily, but her body was beginning to reject them. She wasn’t sure what was to happen, but her books led her to believe ingesting a draugr flower would fill her with dark magick, at least momentarily. And she needed that sort of power if she was to cast a phantom spell. She shouldn’t have had the confidence in being able to cast a dark incantation, enthralling her body to morph, without any real previous training. But she had to try.

The ceremony was quick, straight to the point, blurring as it unfolded like she had tears in her eyes. She was almost grateful her brother and father couldn’t make the trip, her body feeling dirty as she bound herself yet again to the Sun Prince.

They held hands, a cloth soaked from the Hallowed Cistern wrapped around them by the high priest, his mutterings binding them together. She felt a rush of energy infiltrate her fingertips, then the feeling dulled.

“Forever bonded, here and now,” they muttered at the same time before Acastus leaned in. His mouth slanted over hers, a blush ebbing across her face. A sense of coldness surprised her when his free hand rested against her cheek.

He almost looked remorseful as he pulled back, their eyes meeting one another in a flash of gold that quickly fluttered into a foggy cloud of silver mist. But that compunction slipped away like a fleeting dream.

“At last, your heart is all mine,” he said faintly. He slipped the cloth from their hands and her heart raced, a rushing river pumping in her ears.

Focused too intently on Cas, scuffling feet and brazen chat made her turn to the cathedral's entrance. If Mara had thought she had been aghast before, she would have been sorely wrong.

Several guards lugged a wheeled cart into the room, heavy with something glistening a glowing green. She covered her mouth with a yelp as the cart grew nearer and she could make out the more minute details. It was filled with hearts. Human hearts. Hearts that were covered in a green sludge.

They were piled high, still stained with blood, but notably kept clean and orderly. Mara thought she might forget how to breathe, the sight so horrifying. She stumbled back, only smelling copper when she finally managed to steal a breath.

Acastus leaned closer to her ear. “Quite odd seeing them green, I know. It’s only to preserve them. Some gathered so long ago.” Acastus begrudgingly stole Mara’s attention as he spoke. “I’m going to need you to slip through this mirror, darling wife.”

Mara blinked rapidly several times, the dragging of more carts into the room stacked high with fleshy organs pulled for her attention. “N-Now?”

Acastus’ snapped his fingers and two guards on the dais immediately moved to the lengthy mirror and rested it against the stage at a slight angle. Cas grabbed Mara’s hand rather roughly and pulled her with him as he rounded on the mirror, shoving her forward.

“Go through,” he demanded. “Then reach out your hand and pull me in.”

“Pull you in? But you can’t bring?—”

He shook his head, peeved. “You share my blood now, Princess. Your magick is connected with mine. You’ll be able to guide me through as easily as you can move between realms yourself.”

She closed her eyes and spun toward the mirror, her throat burning. She had practiced this, it wasn’t going to end up like that first time. She managed to cross over before.

Desperation coated her body in sweat, wishing for Evrardin’s brooding presence behind her, anchoring her. But he wasn’t here. It was just her. She had to be her own anchor.

“Mara,” Acastus growled impatiently.

She sucked in a staggered breath, summoning all her willpower, and stepped in toward the mirror. She didn’t open her eyes until she had taken several steps without crashing into the glass surface. The Veil looked different than she remembered—the mirror acting as a gate depending on its location. She wiped her sweaty hands on her dress before shoving her arm through the back of the mirror. Acastus’ cold one immediately interlaced with hers and she pulled him in, just as Evrardin had done when he pulled her out.

She marveled at the way he bullied his way into the Veil, an unnatural gleam highlighting his entire figure as he broke the barrier. He appeared to be made of sea glass as his form entered before it dissipated back to being corporeal flesh made of blood and bones.

“Enthralling,” he muttered in tepid disbelief. Acastus continued to gleam like he was lined in silver. It reminded her of her dress, the way the seams made her seem otherworldly.

Mara stood back slightly to watch as Acastus took in his surroundings, turning back to the illuminated anthesis of the mirror.

“Hm,” he hummed in what sounded similar to disapproval. Was the Veil not to his liking?

The prince— her husband —stepped back through the mirror, and Mara stared at the blurred portal perplexed.

She was about to follow when movement stirred the silvery ripple, Acastus stepping through again. But now he held a barrel of hearts.

Mara held back her startled gasp and stared helplessly as Acastus leaned back and forth between this realm and the cathedral, hauling barrel after barrel of gory hearts in the space on the gray grass before her feet.

“What are you doing?” she pleaded. She tried to squeeze past him, to run out into the cathedral and beg the high priest to stop whatever it was they were planning. To beg the Solar Sect to think rationally, to not disrupt the land of the gods.

But Cas blocked her, shoving her back. “Do not get in the way,” he growled, his voice sounding wholly unlike his own.

She helplessly gazed at the hearts that thudded onto the slick grass. Human hearts. This was what Crowrot had been doing in the dungeons, in the depths of Kairth. Collecting human hearts. And Evrardin had helped—more than helped; no doubt he was the one stealing these hearts… She didn’t want to think about that, about how he obtained so many. About the torture of having to kill on Acastus’ orders, unable to refuse.

After heaving several more times, Cas paused and glanced at her. If only she were strong enough to fight Acastus, to be able to stop him in his tracks. He dropped the last of the hearts with a wet thud, flexing his hands and wincing as if his muscles were causing him pain. His eyes were black when they met hers and gooseflesh rose along her spine in a sickly trail.

“My offering to Trana.”

She tilted her head like a confused hound.

“My father has been too lenient on the other kingdoms. Letting them disregard centuries of peace. But I plan to restore Solstrale’s honor. I am bringing back the gods.” The cynical smile on Cas’ face corrupted him.

Trana’s name rang repeatedly in her head. The gods had been gone for centuries. But it seemed Acastus wanted to bring her back. Mara didn’t think it possible, and for a moment, she thought he had completely lost his mind, functioning on pure insanity this entire time.

“And you, my dear wife, are the key to it all.”

Mara twisted her hands behind her back, the venom rising in her throat like tar.

“Don’t look so surprised. You knew I needed you beyond just taking a wife. I need a noble heart, a sun heart, a heart beating with new love, to bring Trana back.”

“I’m not?—

Acastus’ face filled with rage, the harsh lines contorting to anger. “We’ve been bonded. You’re part of the Sun Court now. You carry my blood within you. And while you weren’t my first choice, my father’s heart proved to be a disappointment. Trana’s confounding verselet wasn’t exactly writ to be forthright.”

Mara sucked in a breath, the chill air suffocating her already constricted throat. She felt the licks of magick in her stomach, the darkness of it gently cradling her. She’d have to do the lygi invocation now before it consumed her entirely.

Just as glassfairing, one didn’t recite speech to conduct a dark incantation such as a lygi spell. It was all through thoughts and innate power. She tried to tune out Acastus’ many words, focusing solely on the idea of casting an alternate version of herself. Of her heart. Of her mind.

She was shaken from her thoughts when Cas grabbed her arm and hauled her back into the cathedral, the step through the mirror making her lightheaded, shoving her to her knees. She tried to stand but he pressed harshly on her shoulder.

Cas’ mouth moved, his teeth peeking out as he snarled at her, but it landed on deaf ears. Confused, Mara tilted her head, her vision vibrating. She felt her stomach twist and turn as she blinked several times, correcting her sight—she felt like she might keel over. Snippets of clarity allowed her to realize she was gazing back in the vast expanse of the Veil.

Back in the mirror realm… Her head pounded as she tried to think, fragments of Acastus’ voice digging into her skull. She tried to remember Lord Cofsi’s words. Could she be back in the Veil even though the prince dragged her to the living realm? Her ability to glassfaire mixed with draugr magick allowing her to perform such an intricate spell? Could her true soul linger, her lygi form glassfairing with Acastus’ pull?

Her stomach tugged at her, twisting in knots, a headache brewing in the front of her skull. She looked out onto the foggy tree line within the Veil, but her body felt like she was still kneeling in the cathedral. How odd. Her vision blurred and she closed her eyes, focusing on Acastus’ rumblings until his voice was crystal clear in her ears, hearing his every word. “Evrardin. Do it.”

Mara was able to look out through her deceiving body, seeing Ev in a haze as he strode up the steps to Cas with much trepidation. She had never seen such fear laced in his eyes—she wasn’t sure she had ever seen fear laced in his eyes at all.

He unsheathed his dagger, his hand shaking as if he was fighting against an invisible specter attempting to hold him back. He blinked several times, trying to orient himself, and looked to Cas beside her. “Please,” he begged his prince.

Mara’s heart fell at the pleading in Evrardin’s voice. He sounded broken. Not like his usual brazen self.

“Don’t make me do this. Tell me to do anything else, Cas. Please .”

She swore there were tears in his lilt, the words watery and serpentine as they slid into her ear.

“Get it over with, Evrardin! I’m sick of your insolence,” Acastus almost shrieked.

“I’m begging.” The end of his words were muffled by a loud intake of breath, his chest moving rapidly up and down.

Mara focused on Evrardin, the background blurred, as he took more aggressive steps toward her. She could feel the lick of grass on her ankles now, her body back in the Veil while she stared out of false eyes onto the captain. He sat down on his haunches and then she could really see him. His eyes brimming with tears. He tried to hold back blinking, but it was futile. The droplets slid down his face, his eyebrows narrowed in anger. He looked like he wanted to avert his gaze in shame, but he couldn’t.

Mara reached her hand out and slid her thumb over his cascading tears. She knew she made contact, but she couldn’t feel it, couldn’t feel his skin under her fingertips. She could hear Cas muttering something in the distance, but her only focus was on Evrardin.

“I’m sorry, Princess. I don’t—” His words broke. “I don’t know how to stop this.” He slid his dagger up her chest, the metal gliding against her dress and making her wince. “I can’t control my hands.” The roughness of his voice sent shivers rippling along Mara’s skin, both in the Veil and the living realm. His eyes cast a dark shadow, his limbs shaking as he tried to halt their movement. “I should have cut them off when I had the chance.”

“It’s okay,” she cooed softly. This would be okay . If this truly was her lygi body, then no matter what Evrardin was forced to do to it, it would dissipate once the spell wore off and she would turn full again where her mind sat in the Veil.

“Trust me,” Mara murmured.

Evrardin tried his godforsaken hardest to hold back his hand as he held her, his whole body shaking, but his hands were compelled to betray. He couldn’t fight it. There was no way he could fight it. And for the next several agonizing beats, he was going to think he really killed her. She hadn’t the strength or time to properly explain.

She wished she had thrown caution to the wind and told him her plan earlier. Maybe some of this could have been avoided. Although, it could have been disastrous just the same if Evrardin had been forced to tell Acastus.

“Do it,” she insisted.

Evrardin’s brows knit together, tilting his head in confusion. Mara sat upward, reaching for his lips, his dagger plunging into her chest as she kissed him. She felt the whisper of the dagger, then no pain at all. She knew her lips had touched Ev’s, the warmth and slight tickle of his beard a ghostly feeling on her face and fingertips. But when she opened her eyes, she was alone in the Veil. Evrardin nowhere in sight.

She leaned over and emptied her stomach as the full force of her soul centering her true form in the Veil hit her. She stood and straightened her dress. When she looked down as her hands smoothed the fabric, water droplets sliced through the air.

She didn’t bother wiping away her tears as she lifted her skirts and busted into a mad dash.