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M areleau hoped she was at the right tent. She stood before the leather flap that served as a door, Noah cradled in one arm, her free hand raised in a fist, only to realize there was no point in knocking on such a soft material. And she couldn’t very well barge in, for there was still the question of whether this was the right tent. It should have been easy to find. Not only was it the same tent Salinda had brought them to upon arriving last night, but Cora had pointed it out from the wagon that morning, before she’d left to find Valorre and Berol.

She hated feeling awkward like this, but she was fully out of her element. Here it hindered more than helped that she was queen. Here she couldn’t rely on being waited upon. She’d spent the night in a godsforsaken wagon, after all, on a cramped bed. The accommodations had been smaller than the traveling coach she’d ridden to Ridine in, yet Ailan had offered it to her and Cora like it was some high honor.

Mareleau shook the thoughts from her head, reminding herself that if anything would serve her around the Forest People, it was humility.

So she cleared her throat and adopted as pleasant a tone as she could. “Salinda? Are you?—”

“Come in,” came the woman’s voice from inside.

She hesitated. This was normally the part where someone else would open the door for her. But no, of course that wouldn’t happen here. She lifted the tent flap and awkwardly shuffled inside.

“Mareleau.” Salinda greeted her with a warm smile. It was strange being on a first-name basis with a stranger, but of the few Forest People she’d met, she liked Salinda best. The woman’s grin looked tired as she gestured for her to take a seat on her pile of furs. Mareleau accepted the seat, finding it far more comfortable than she expected.

Salinda strolled to the bed where she was packing items into a bag. “I was just getting some things ready for you. Extra swaddling, absorbent moss, a carrying sling, and lactation herbs.”

Her mouth fell open. “Oh…that bag is for me?”

“I figured we might have some items you wouldn’t have had where you’re from.”

She was right about that. She hadn’t heard of the latter three items. “Thank you. That’s…rather kind of you.”

Salinda smiled over her shoulder. “You may be a queen and part of some great prophecy, but you are still a mother. And he, whether the heir to a human kingdom or the Morkara of the fae realm, is still just a baby.”

For some reason, those words warmed Mareleau’s heart. She hadn’t realized how badly she needed to be reminded that she was more than the subject of a prophecy. More than a royal. Her identity was her own.

Salinda put the last item in the bag and sat at the edge of her bed. “But that isn’t why you came here, is it?”

“No.” Mareleau shifted in her seat and Noah began to fuss.

“May I?” Salinda leaned forward, extending her heavily tattooed arms.

Mareleau didn’t love when other people held Noah, but she also could use a break. She hadn’t had one since Salinda held him last night. Carefully she transferred her son to Salinda, then nestled back into the furs. Salinda began bouncing and speaking to him in a sing-song voice, which halted his mewling protestations.

“I was hoping,” Mareleau said, “you could teach me about casting wards with my magic.”

Salinda cocked her head. “Now that the dragons are being dealt with, you don’t need to learn warding as urgently.”

“I may not need to cast wards around my own magic, but I’d like to learn how to cast them in general. I want to protect Noah.”

“There is very little I could teach you before you leave. Besides, even though I have both witch and Faeryn blood, my magic favors my Faeryn heritage. Faeryn magic works with the Magic of the Soil. Earth magic. You have Elvyn blood, which utilizes the Magic of the Sky. Weaving, in other words, like Ailan does. You’d have better luck talking to her.”

“I don’t want to talk to her yet.” Mareleau winced at her petulant tone. She simply didn’t like or trust Ailan, though that was mostly because Mareleau couldn’t help blaming her for everything that was happening now. “I’d at least like to know what kind of witch I might be. Cora uses emotion, and she believes my mother uses sound. I’d like to know which of the six senses my magic favors.”

“I suppose I can help with that,” she said, tone kind. “So tell me about your magic. Cora mentioned last night that she discovered you were a witch because you’d cast a glamour.”

Mareleau nodded. “I never knew that’s what I was doing. I’ve always called it my magic trick, but I didn’t think it was real magic.”

“Tell me more about it.”

She did, explaining how she’d always had a knack for donning a facade to appear a certain way to others. Most often, she used it to seem composed and regal. To gain respect. Then she explained how she’d honed that talent into something else, to rid herself of unwanted suitors. That was when she’d begun using the term magic trick , for it had worked splendidly. Miraculously.

“All I needed to know,” Mareleau said, “was what my suitor wanted to see and what they feared to see.”

“How did you find out?”

“I just…knew. It didn’t take many conversations or encounters with my suitors to figure it out. I knew from what they talked about and what they didn’t talk about. I knew from how they acted and reacted.”

“That sounds like claircognizance—clear knowing. My daughter has that gift. She’s honing her Art for dream divination. Someone will tell her about their dream, and she simply knows its meaning. Other times, she suddenly knows something will or won’t happen. Like how she knew Cora would come yesterday.”

“I’ve never done anything nearly as impressive as that.”

“Explain more about what you have done then. How have you used what you know to craft a glamour?”

Mareleau shrugged. “In the past, I’ve simply portrayed the traits my suitors disliked or expressed myself in a way that countered what they did like. I’d make a suitor who wanted a cold and distant wife see me as clingy and smothering. I’d make a suitor who wanted a vapid, easy, and beautiful wife see me as cunning, difficult, and ugly.”

She’d crafted the latter glamour on the last suitor her parents had tried to pair her with before they’d agreed to let her host the Heart’s Hunt. Frederick had nearly won her over. Not her heart, of course, for that had always belonged to Larylis, even when she’d been tricked into thinking he’d abandoned her. Yet Frederick had almost won her hand, a marriage alliance built on common interests. That was before she’d discovered he’d been dallying with her best friend and lady’s maid, Katra, and had even promised to make the girl his mistress. She’d delighted in using her magic trick on him then, watching his face turn pale as she’d let her posture sag, let her expression shift into something hideous. Even now, the corners of her lips curled up, vindictive pride igniting in her chest.

Salinda narrowed her eyes. “Have you always cast glamours—or used this magic trick, as you call it—for personal gain?”

“I suppose so.” Why did she feel like she was admitting to a bad thing? Who wouldn’t use whatever was at their disposal for personal gain? Perhaps she delighted a little too much in tormenting the people who’d hurt her, but…well, she certainly wasn’t going to admit that.

Salinda’s brows knit together as she absently rocked a now-sleeping Noah. “Your mother is likely a clairaudient witch, and we know you inherited Ailan’s Elvyn blood from one of your parents. We can assume it was through your father.”

“Is that significant?”

“Elvyn-witch hybrids are rare, considering there are no living Elvyn aside from Ailan. That we know of, at least. It may be possible…”

“What’s possible?”

“I believe you’re a narcuss. It’s a rare Art, so we know very little about it. I’ve always believed a narcuss to be the shadow of the empath, projecting emotions outward instead of taking others’ emotions in. But you seem to utilize claircognizance to project the outcome you want. You change what a person sees and knows about you, forcing an impression.”

Mareleau’s stomach sank. The way Salinda described a narcuss left little to be desired. Forcing an impression? Projecting an outcome she wanted? Those terms made her seem more like a villain than a witch. “Aren’t there other kinds of witches who do something similar, other than…whatever a narcuss is?”

“Somewhat, but the reason I believe you’re a narcuss is because the last witch who we know for certain had that power was also an Elvyn-witch hybrid. It could be that the Art of the narcuss is exclusive to that combination.”

Mareleau sat forward eagerly. “You know another narcuss?”

“I wouldn’t say I ever knew him personally.” Her tone held a wary note.

That was enough for Mareleau to put the pieces together. “You’re talking about Morkai, aren’t you?”

Salinda’s nod of confirmation sent Mareleau’s stomach roiling.

“I…have the same magic as Morkai ?”

“It doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Salinda said, softening her expression. “I didn’t mean to make it seem that way. We just don’t have many examples of one using that magic for good. But you can choose how you use it. You may have used it for personal gain before, but there is nothing inherently wrong with that. And as you overcome your personal challenge, you’ll find other ways to use your Art, and your magic will grow stronger.”

“What do you mean by personal challenge?”

“Every witch grows their magic by overcoming challenges that are personal to them and their Art. Most often, a witch is confronted with the option of doing what feels easiest versus what feels most difficult, what goes against their base instincts. Only you will know what that challenge is, but it very well may be using your Art in a way that feels unnatural. Using it to help others instead of for personal gain.”

“Like how I want to learn magic to protect Noah? Isn’t that counter to what a narcuss would do?”

“Perhaps,” Salinda said. “Yet always question such lines of thinking. As a narcuss, it will be easy to convince yourself that what you do for personal gain is for another’s sake. I’m sure Morkai justified all his actions that way.”

Her gut turned again. Seven devils, she was right. Teryn had discovered exactly that while trapped in the crystal. How Morkai—Desmond, as he was called before he took on the new name—had originally sought answers for his father, all in the hopes that Darius would resurrect his dead mother. After Emylia died, he’d sought the power of the Morkaius so that he could eventually bring her back. Morkai had believed his dark intentions were selfless.

But…but Mareleau wasn’t like that. Was she?

“Am I being selfish for wanting to protect my son? All I want is for him to be safe.”

“Why?”

“Why? What do you mean why ? Because I love him, that’s why. Because I want him to live a long, healthy life. Because I want to see him grow up and experience being his mother—” The words caught in her throat.

“Because you want to experience that.”

Mareleau thought she might be sick. Even her desire to protect her son ultimately came back to how it served her. Had she always been this way? Had every good feeling, every wish, every hope, been some desire born from her selfish, dark heart?—

“There is nothing wrong with wanting those things for yourself.” Salinda’s voice came out firm. “I didn’t say any of that to condemn you, only to demonstrate just how great your challenge might be. Just how subtle the divide between what you do for others and what you do for yourself. Being a narcuss does not make you evil.”

Her shoulders sank nonetheless. “What do I do then? How do I ensure I don’t end up like…like him ?”

“Seek the truth inside yourself. Question what you think you know. If you meet darkness, simply bring it to light. Acknowledge it. When you feel those selfish undercurrents running through you, admit them, then let them be. You need not outrun your nature. Just don’t let it control you. When you feel a challenge to counter your base instincts, face it. If you fail, forgive yourself and move on.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“It isn’t easy, but you’re not alone. A narcuss isn’t the only one who faces their darkest side. We all do.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me. You saw how quickly I turned my heart against someone I’ve loved my whole life.”

“You mean Ailan? That’s understandable. She lied to you. She pretended to be dying to avoid confronting the truth.” A cloud of guilt reflected back, reminding her that she could relate to Ailan’s actions. She’d pretended to be pregnant, after all.

“Perhaps, perhaps not. What matters is I saw my dark feelings, my hate, my anger, and I called them into the light. I revealed them and released them. I’m still angry and confused. I’m also hopeful that I can forgive her. It is a choice to follow the path of hope and love, even when dark feelings remain. Strength isn’t being good or perfect. It’s meeting your darkness face to face and moving forward instead of sinking into it. No matter what you find in those shadows, it is important that you love yourself.”

Love herself? She’d never had a problem putting herself first, but had she ever truly loved herself? Not especially. She was flawed and had done terrible things in the past, but…could she love those sides of her? Truly love them?

Larylis’ voice echoed through her head, warming her heart.

Someone who loved you, petals, thorns, and all .

Well, if he could love her through all her lies, schemes, and manipulations, maybe she could do the same.

She released a slow sigh. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all you ever have to do. Just try.”

Mareleau gathered Noah back into her arms and left Salinda’s tent. She hadn’t gotten the answers she’d wanted. She hadn’t learned a stitch of magic.

Yet she’d learned a little more about herself, a side she’d never known. Maybe that side of her—the side she shared with a villain she despised—could somehow prove useful in facing the villain that lay ahead.