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C ora’s heart shot into her throat as she whirled to face the stranger in their room. Teryn leaped off the bed at once, pulling Cora with him and positioning her behind him. She reached for her waist, but her hands met only air. Seven devils, she’d left her dagger in the armory. Teryn at least had the good sense to lunge for the fireplace poker and brandished it toward the intruder.

The man made no move aside from tilting his lips in an amused grin.

He was on the late end of middle-aged, tall and slender, his posture somehow dignified as he leaned against the far wall, ankles crossed. His salt-and-pepper hair was swept away from his brow to reveal a strong nose and silver-blue eyes that bore an unmistakable intensity. He was dressed in all black from his trousers to the military-style coat he wore. There was nothing familiar about the coat’s design to distinguish which military he represented.

Everything about his presence screamed wrong , even before she noticed the knife he toyed with.

“I’m glad to see you’ve finished,” the man said. There was something familiar about his voice. “The stamina you young people have.”

Stamina. What was he talking about? Had he…

“Who are you?” Teryn asked, voice deadly calm.

“I’m not surprised you don’t recognize me, but surely Her Majesty would. No? Ah, it’s the absence of bruises, isn’t it? You should pay better attention to the people you have beaten at your command.”

Understanding clicked into place. “You’re…the Norunian spy.”

It shouldn’t have been possible. Even without the bruises, there was little to link them by appearances alone. He seemed taller, and far less rough around the edges. But that voice. It held a more distinguished quality, but he was just as well-spoken as the man she’d interrogated in the dungeon. With a deep breath, she opened her senses.

His energy was one and the same.

This was the prisoner who’d faked his own death. Freed by someone in the castle and replaced with a decoy body. And from what he’d said…

The stamina you young people have .

Nausea turned her stomach. Had he been…watching them? Their most private moment? It was one thing to enjoy the thrill of getting caught by people she trusted. Enemies were different. There was nothing thrilling about that. It was simply violating.

Had he been inside her castle all this time, lurking in the shadows?

Teryn shifted to the side, deepening his defensive stance. He opened his mouth and gathered in a sharp breath, as if prepared to shout, but the spy spoke first.

“Don’t call for your guards.” He flipped his knife and caught the hilt with ease. “I can cross the space between us in a heartbeat and shove this through your throat before you’ve had a chance to blink.”

His words pulsed in her mind.

He could…cross the space between them.

In a heartbeat.

She assessed the floor, the bed between them, the wardrobe he’d have to skirt around. The answer was so crushing, she almost couldn’t voice it.

“You’re Darius,” she managed to say.

“Majesty, I wasn’t aware we were on a first-name basis,” he said, tone mocking.

That was when she noticed something about his eyes; they were so like Morkai’s had been, with that same pale blue color. She tried to find similarities to Ailan, but there were none. His complexion was tan but much paler than Ailan’s. His hair was gray where hers was black. But as her eyes fell upon his ears, she saw their subtly pointed tips. They weren’t as angled as Ailan’s but were more so than Morkai’s. Surely she or the gaoler would have noticed pointed ears on their prisoner…wouldn’t they? His hair had been shaggy enough to cover them, but?—

Another realization formed in her mind.

The only time she’d seen him had been before the Veil had torn.

Any differences in his appearance could be attributed to that. Though his aging hadn’t reversed nearly as drastically as Ailan’s had, it had darkened his hair, straightened his posture, and elongated his ears.

Terror tore through her. Darius…her enemy…was in her castle.

He was here .

Standing before her.

Teryn shifted his stance again, teeth bared in a sneer.

Darius raised his empty palm while sheathing the knife at his waist. When both hands were empty, he said, “I’m not here for violence. I’m here to talk.”

“Then talk,” Teryn said through his teeth.

“Lower your weapon and I will.”

Teryn held still for a long beat, then lowered the poker to his side. He kept it firmly in his grip, however, his posture defensive, still half blocking Cora.

“Right,” Darius said. “Now, I’m sure you have questions?—”

“It was you all along,” Cora said, her mind still reeling. With every breath, more of the pieces were clicking into place. “You were never a spy. You got caught on purpose.”

And the prisoner hadn’t been freed by a traitor. Sure, he could have had an accomplice, but it wouldn’t have been necessary. Because if this was Darius Solaria, King of Syrus, all he’d needed to do was worldwalk out of the cell.

Then worldwalk back with a decoy corpse.

Gods, what a fool she’d been. All this time, she’d thought her best defense against him was to keep him from ever stepping foot in Khero, preventing him from familiarizing himself with key locations and securing places to worldwalk to.

Yet he’d been here all along. He’d waltzed straight into her kingdom and into her castle as if he’d been invited.

He arched a brow. “Was that a question?”

“Why did you do it?”

“I wanted to meet you, and getting captured as a Norunian spy was my best bet.”

Teryn scoffed. “You could have sent a formal request for an audience. Or negotiated a meeting on neutral ground.”

“Yes, but would you have faced me with an open mind? That’s what I came to discover. I wanted to gauge my chances at peaceful relations between us, or see if your preconceived notions were too strong.”

“You make it sound like you came for tea,” Cora said, “but what you really did was invade my castle under a false pretense and a false name and lie to us. If you wanted peaceful relations, you should have tried something else. Pretending to be a prisoner, feeding us false information, and faking your death was a sure way to turn us against you.”

“No, you were already turned against me.” His voice took on a cold edge. “Thanks to my idiot son. Foolish Desmond, parading around as Duke Morkai. What a ridiculous moniker. As if calling himself King of Magic in the fae language would help him become Morkaius.”

Cora stiffened at the mention of Morkai. Or Desmond, as was his birth name. Did Darius know his son was dead? Did he blame Cora for his death? Was he here for revenge? Questions burned Cora’s mind, but she didn’t want to give anything away by asking the wrong one. She couldn’t be sure what Darius did or didn’t know already, or what Morkai may have told him.

She shifted her feet, rooting herself to the stone floor, and sought logic over fear. His presence was terrifying and didn’t bode well for the safety of her castle. Yet she could learn what she could, starting with the facts they’d already exchanged. “When you pretended to be a Norunian spy, you claimed Norun was targeting us over the death of Prince Helios. Was any of that true?”

“Oh, it was true. Before Desmond met his end at Centerpointe Rock, he detailed the prince’s death to King Isvius, attempting to paint Selay as the enemy and potentially gain an ally. But when Desmond couldn’t follow up to fan the flames of hatred and control their direction, the King of Norun turned his ire upon Khero instead. Norun made for an easy ally when I began correspondence with Isvius and mentioned my plans to invade Khero.”

So Darius did know about Morkai’s death. And his alliance with Norun was real.

“Why are you targeting Khero?”

He gave her a pointed look. “You know why. I know all about the Veil and Lela and the prophecy. Even before I got my memories back, I knew. Desmond was useful in one thing at least, and that was dying. His death triggered an enchantment he’d forged as a safeguard, ensuring his hard work wouldn’t be lost if he failed. The enchantment materialized in a veritable tome of information that landed on my study desk in Syrus. Despite our many decades of estrangement, he’d continued to detail his discoveries and actions. The report told me everything he’d hidden from me after our falling out. It was quite illuminating.”

Mother Goddess, was there anything he didn’t know?

“I hope you see what’s at stake now,” he said. “The missive you received from me this morning spoke only truth. In three weeks, we will meet at the Khero-Vinias border, and I will demand Khero’s surrender. If you refuse, my Norunian reinforcements will follow and lay waste to your kingdom. Moreover, if I wanted to act sooner, I could. Ever since I left your dungeon, I’ve spent time orienting myself with certain locations in the castle. It would be easy to claim Ridine. I could have control of it by morning.”

Tremors racked Cora’s body at his words. At the very real picture they painted. She couldn’t keep the quaver from her voice, but at least she had enough rage to hide her fear. “Then why are you here chatting with us?”

“Unlike my son, who used war negotiations as bait for battle, I truly want to avoid war. I’ll resort to it if I must, plan for it, but I don’t want you to be my enemy.” He stepped away from the wall, hands clasped behind his back. “Besides, there is an alternative to surrender.”

Cora remembered what he’d said when he’d first arrived.

“You want us to ally with you,” Teryn said.

“Yes, but instead of talking in circles about it, I want to extend a personal invitation for Queen Aveline to speak with me in private. And no, the invitation is for one, not two. Aveline will come with me alone.”

“Come with you…to where?” Cora asked.

“To Syrus.”

She barked a disbelieving laugh. “You want me to go to Syrus with you.”

“I can walk us there and back in no more than an hour.”

He used the term walk , but he didn’t mean by foot. “Why do you want to meet with me in Syrus?”

“To show you what the kingdom of an evil immortal tyrant looks like.” He said it with such jest, but there was nothing funny about this situation.

Cora and Teryn said nothing, which made Darius’ expression darken.

“I’ve called it an invitation, but—” He stepped forward again and disappeared at once.

“—it’s not—” he said, appearing on the opposite side of the bed.

“—really—” Now by the wardrobe.

“—a request.” He reappeared where he’d first stood. He’d moved so fast, they’d hardly had time to react beyond a flinch. He’d worldwalked with ease, as if he’d been taking a leisurely stroll, hopping from one location to the next with each step he’d taken.

Cora wasn’t that powerful. She couldn’t activate her abilities that fast.

“I don’t want to take you by force,” Darius said, “but I can. I can cross this space and take your hand before either of you can react.”

“Is that how you intend to get us to trust you?” Teryn said, edging closer to Cora, his poker raised once more. “With threats?”

“What else do you want from me?” Darius said with a sneer. “We’re enemies until we agree otherwise. I can’t make unbreakable vows like pureblood Elvyn can, but I will still state it out loud. I swear not to harm Queen Aveline Caelan at any time while she is in Syrus.”

Cora shook her head. “Your word means nothing.”

“What matters to you, then? Blood? Well, then let me tell you this. I have a vested interest in you. A reason why I’d rather not kill you, and it has to do with your bloodline.”

“What…what do you mean?”

His lips curved in a cruel grin. “You, Aveline, are my kin.”