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J avier stood at the broad picture window behind the desk in the High Queen’s study, his stare roving over the grounds below, while Bastian browsed the bookshelves, his head cocked to the side so he could better read the words on the books’ spines. Whenever he reached a book with a bare spine, he would carefully pull the volume free and almost reverently open the cover to leaf through the aged pages.

It heartened me to know his love of books was a genuine part of his personality, even if the rest of his grad student persona had been a lie. The bookworm part of him was real. His expert bookcase shuffle proved it.

I paced along the opposite wall of books, fidgeting with my clothing and hair. Was the low, loose bun too casual? Did the jeans, blouse, and long sweater suggest I wasn’t taking my position seriously? Should I have dressed up? Or, at least, dressed more professionally? Should I have made more of an effort to look the part of High Queen? Was I even the High Queen yet, or were there rituals and ceremonies that had to happen first?

Although, I supposed the whole point of these interviews was to find the person who could either answer those questions, or at the very least, help me find the answers. The first of the three rescued queens would be arriving any minute. They had barely had a full night and day to recover, but proceeding with the hunt for a teacher had been Javier’s idea, and he knew better than anyone what the queens had been through as prisoners and what they would be up for now that they were free. If he didn’t think this was too soon, then neither did I.

I eyed Bastian. Maybe it was a mistake to have him here. Shifters had inflicted unending trauma upon these women. Would his presence rub their noses in their horrific experiences? Except, having him here in the room with us had also been Javier’s idea. He claimed that if the queens couldn’t handle being around Bastian, then they weren’t fit to be my teacher. Bastian was one of my consorts, after all, so his presence in my life was nonnegotiable.

I was heading toward the back of the study when the door creaked open. I spun around, my hands clasped together in front of me, and I watched as Ash escorted a diminutive older woman into the room. The frail hand he held securely hooked around his arm was clearly more for her stability than for chivalry.

She had warm, brown skin that appeared paper thin, amber eyes, and I had no doubt her gray-streaked dark amber curls would be stunning once she recovered from the prolonged malnourishment and regained her queenly vigor. Despite her petite size, her presence was enormous, her self-assurance indomitable.

Based on Javier’s descriptions of the rescued queens, this had to be Isador, the eldest of the bunch. She appeared to be in her nineties, though Javier claimed she was far older. Her lifespan had apparently been lengthened by her bonds to her immortal consorts, at least one of whom had to still be living for her to be alive after everything she had been through.

I glanced at Javier, who had turned away from the window at Isador’s arrival, his expression unreadable. He had predicted she would volunteer to come and speak with me first, and he had been right.

I cleared my throat and stepped forward, forcing my hands apart. “Thank you, Ash.” I nodded to my hulking consort, then turned my attention to the woman who appeared dwarfed beside him. “Welcome, Isador,” I said and gestured to the pair of settees arranged around a sturdy oak coffee table in the middle of the room. “Please, sit.”

I approached the nearest settee and lowered myself to the cushioned seat. The formality felt stiff and robotic, but I wasn’t sure how else to be. I’d never expected to be High Queen—that role had been intended for my sister, whatever Javier said—and I had only period dramas of European royals on which to model my behavior.

Tea things were arranged on a tray in the center of the table, along with a plate of scones and a three-tiered tower of sweet and savory small bites. As Isador approached, I perched on the edge of my seat and busied myself with pouring a cup of tea for each of us and adding sugar to mine to avoid her weighty stare.

Again, this was something that seemed appropriate based on all the movies I had seen. I didn’t actually want the tea. In fact, with how jittery my nerves made me feel, I doubted I would be able to lift the cup to my lips without spilling hot tea all over myself. It was a miracle I could pour any into the cups at all.

Ash remained steadfast at Isador’s side as she crossed the room, only releasing her elbow when she eased down onto the opposite settee. I pressed my lips together to avoid frowning, and I set the teapot back down on the tray, nudging her cup closer to her side of the table. I had wanted to visit the recovering queens in their rooms, but Javier had been adamant about having them come to me here. Something about propriety and respect, but forcing Isador to come to me when she could barely stand on her own seemed wrong.

I suddenly felt like an idiot for requesting these interviews now. She would see through me. They all would. I was a librarian, not the ruler of an immortal race.

I abandoned my teacup on the table and wiped my sweating palms against my jeans. I glanced at Javier as he approached, coming to stand behind my settee, like he sensed that I was floundering and needed his help. It amazed me that he had been in far worse shape than Isador only a day earlier, but now appeared in the prime of health. The perks of immortality and an endless supply of mortal blood, I supposed.

“You look well, Isador,” Javier said.

The queen barked a laugh. “I look ancient,” she said, her amber eyes glittering as she peered up at him. Despite her appearance, there was nothing frail about her gravelly, resonant voice. “You, on the other hand…” Her lips twisted into a secretive smirk, and her focus dropped to me. “And you must be Luna—I mean, Sophie,” she said, bowing her head. “Thank you for rescuing me.” She twisted partway on her seat to look at Bastian, who was leaning one shoulder against the bookshelves behind her. “And thank you for choosing to unlock my cell first.”

Bastian’s lips curved into a tight-lipped smile, and he dipped his chin.

Isador returned her attention to me. “I’ve heard much about you, my lady.” She glanced up at Javier, then settled back on me. “But I’m most impressed that you were able to survive without your Prime Consort for so long while so young.” She tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowing. “Did you find another immortal to sustain you after he was captured?” She snuck another glance over her shoulder at Bastian, suggesting she believed that had been his role.

“No,” I said, then cleared my throat when the word came out weaker than I had intended. “It was just me.” And Javier’s blood tincture, but I wasn’t about to go into all that right now. “I’ve been living as a human for nearly twenty years,” I told her. “I thought all of our people were dead.” I shrugged. “I didn’t know how to be what I am, so I became something else.”

Isador studied me with those hawkish amber eyes. “You were a prisoner in your own right.”

Gripping my knees, I shook my head, unwilling to compare my experience with hers. What she had been through was unimaginable. “I made a life for myself,” I said. “In the human world.”

Her lips curved minutely, and there was pity in her eyes. “But you are not a human, child.”

“I don’t know how to be anything else,” I confessed, my gaze averting to my hands, my fingertips digging into my knees.

Javier’s steady hand settled on my shoulder, his grip reassuring. “Which is why you’re here,” he said. “Sophie’s ignorance is my fault. I taught her how to identify an immortal and defend herself against them, but I neglected every other part of a queen’s training in favor of an education in the ways of the human world.” His grip on my shoulder tightened momentarily, like a silent apology, and I covered his hand with my own. “I thought we would have time for all that later,” he added. “When she came into her power.”

I craned my neck to peer up at him and flashed him a small smile. “It all worked out in the end,” I said, the words souring on my tongue as I thought of Gavin locked up in the shifter prison. I swallowed the guilt and sorrow and faced Isador once more.

“I need a teacher,” I told the other queen, returning my attention to her. “Javier taught me what I needed to know to survive in the human world, but I’m clueless about almost everything relating to our world.” I took a steadying breath. “I asked you to come here today because I wish to speak with each of you to see if you would be interested in the role.”

Isador studied me, long and hard. “I thought as much,” she finally said, scooting forward and reaching for her cup of tea. “I will teach you what you need to know.” Her gaze flicked up to Javier as she sipped. “It’s better this way, with you knowing next to nothing.” She set down the cup and looked at me. “Rather than being riddled with bad habits, you are a blank slate. You will learn the proper way of doing things slow and steady, with a solid foundation of knowledge first.”

I licked my lips and picked at my thumbnail. “I actually need more of a crash course on how to use my powers,” I said, wincing when Isador’s lips pursed with disapproval. “We have to go back to the Sun Keep. We have to rescue the rest of the queens and the guardian who remained behind.”

Keen understanding gleamed in Isador’s amber eyes. “He is one of yours,” she said, not a question.

I nodded. “Gavin was to be my Prime Consort…before.”

Isador’s eyes widened, her brows rising. “Gavin? Alma’s boy?” she asked Javier, and I wondered if Alma was Gavin’s mother, the queen he had referenced only in passing. “I didn’t recognize him, but then, it was very dark, and I haven’t seen him since he was quite young.” Her stare grew distant. “I should have known. I haven’t felt power like that from an undead since…” Again, she focused on Javier. “Well, since they brought you down to us.”

I turned my head, eyeing Javier curiously. Had his mother been a queen as well?

Javier sliced his chin to the right, negating my silent question. He couldn’t hear my thoughts exactly, but our bond allowed him to sense the general direction of my mind, just as I could sense his. At the moment, he wanted me to accept Isador’s offer to teach me.

My brow furrowed. We hadn’t yet met with the others. Perhaps one of them would be more open to fast-tracking my training. Once we had rescued Gavin and the other queens, then we could come back to Isador.

“Your consort will be there, waiting for you, whether you rescue him in a day, a year, or in ten,” Isador said, drawing my attention back to her. “The only difference is how well you will be prepared to face his captors.” She sipped her tea, then set it on the table. “But I can see you’re unwilling to accept the truth just yet.” She smiled kindly, belying the steel glinting in her eyes. “I won’t waste any more of your time,” she said, groaning as she regained her feet. “Please, do discuss your training with the others.”

Ash moved from his post by the door, hurrying to meet Isador before her shuffling steps carried her to the edge of the settee. He took her hand, curling her fingers around his thick forearm once more.

“There’s only half a brain between the two of them, just so you know,” Isador tossed over her shoulder. “Helene lost her mind when her consorts were slaughtered, and Doris never had much of one to begin with.”

Ash pulled open the study door and guided Isador into the High Queen’s sitting room.

“Let me know when you’re ready to start,” she called back, like it was a foregone conclusion that, in the end, I would come back to her, asking for her help. “My lady.” The final two words floated into the room like an afterthought after Isador and Ash were out of sight.

Thane leaned into the study from his post just outside and pulled the door shut.

I blew out a breath and turned partway on my seat to stare up at Javier. “She is…” I shook my head, at a loss for words. “A force,” I finally settled on.

Javier released a dry, humorless laugh. “She had to be to retain her sanity down there.”

I narrowed my eyes, wondering not for the first time why the shifters had been holding queens as prisoners in the first place. “Why not simply kill them and be done with it?” I murmured, not really expecting an answer.

“To break the curse,” Bastian said. “Veris believes that after enough time, one of the queens will break and agree to appeal to Selene to lift the curse.”

I shook my head, looking from Bastian to Javier and back. “But I thought the goddess only listened to the High Queen.”

“Which is why Veris still hunts stray queens,” Bastian said, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “He wants to capture them all to guarantee that, when the time comes, he can make his broken queen the High Queen.”

Again, I shook my head. “But the only way he could guarantee that would be to make her the only queen.” I blanched, my mouth going dry as I understood. “He’ll kill them. When one breaks and agrees to help him, he’ll kill the others.”

“Isador was the backbone of the group,” Javier said. “She kept the others strong, focused. Without her steady presence, it becomes far more likely one of the queens will give in.”

I swallowed my suddenly tacky saliva. “And then all the others will die,” I said, my voice sounding remote, even inside my own head. “Unless—” I turned, gripping the back of the settee. “What if I do something—a show of power or something—that makes it obvious that I am the High Queen?”

“Sophie, no,” Bastian said, the vehemence in his voice catching me off guard. “ No .”

“The only reason Veris isn’t launching an assault on the Moon Sanctuary this instant is because he doesn’t know your true identity,” Javier explained, the cold edge to his words somehow even more frightening than the heat in Bastian’s. “Untrained as you are, you’re helpless against him.”

“But I’m here, surrounded by all these wards,” I countered.

“Wards that didn’t protect your mother or your sister the last time they came,” Javier said, ending each word like he was biting off the final sound. “You cannot reveal yourself until your power as High Queen is at full strength.”

I balled my hands into fists. “Which won’t happen until we have Gavin back,” I snapped. “Without him , I will never be at full strength.”

“Uh,” Bastian started, drawing out the sound. “That might not actually be true.”

My attention snapped to Bastian, who now stood behind the other settee. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t need Gavin to be at full power,” Bastian said. “At least, not all of him. You need his blood.”

I scoffed. “Which is in his body.”

“Maybe not all of it,” Bastian said and glanced at the door. “You should talk to the vampires down in the infirmary. I overheard Gavin speaking to one, and it sounded like they were working on a new tincture—one made from his blood.” Bastian shrugged one shoulder and glanced at Javier. “I think he was inspired by what you came up with.

My brows bunched together. “But, why—” I shook my head. “Why would he have thought I might need a blood tincture made from his blood?”

Bastian shrugged again, both shoulders this time. “Backup plan? He seems like a thorough planner.”

“Gavin must have foreseen the possibility that someone would need to remain behind to sustain the imprisoned queens, should there be inadequate time to free them all,” Javier said, his voice a low rumble. “He knew you would never be at full strength without your Prime Consort, and he would never ask a weaker subordinate to make a sacrifice he was capable of making himself. I doubt he expected to remain behind, but he entered that dungeon prepared to do so, if necessary. For our people.” Javier’s hand settled on my shoulder once more, his fingers splaying over my collarbone and the pad of his thumb gliding up and down the back of my neck along my spine. “And for you.”

My chin trembled. I didn’t deserve Gavin. He was too noble, and I was just me . Just a glorified librarian with a tragic and troubled past. My birthright didn’t mesh with who I had become, and I felt woefully inadequate. How would I ever fulfill the expectations of all the immortals around me, both ally and foe? How could I ever become the High Queen the House of the Moon needed? The savior my people had been hoping and waiting for? The leader they deserved?

The door to the sitting room opened again, and I hastily wiped under my eyes as Ash escorted another emaciated queen into the study. This had to be Helene, based on the limp blonde hair and dull blue eyes.

I forced a smile that I hoped looked welcoming and gestured to the settee across the table from me. “Please, sit,” I said, though I had little hope that Helene would be a good fit for the role of my teacher. I sensed a vacancy within her. An absence of will. Of self. I thought of what Isador had said about Helene losing her consorts and wondered if that was the source.

After a few minutes of one-sided conversation, my suspicions about Helene being a poor fit for the role were confirmed, and I bid the other queen farewell. The interview with Doris went much the same, and once the door to the sitting room was shut and Javier, Bastian, and I were alone in the study, I sighed and slumped back on the settee.

“Isador, it is,” I said, sounding resigned.