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C ora had gotten used to the smell of burning paper, but she hadn’t grown accustomed to the grim contents of Morkai’s books. Nor the disappointment at finding nothing useful amongst all the references to blood magic, curses, and manipulations of mind and will. It was almost a relief to reach a portion of the bookcase filled with nothing but benign volumes—herbal encyclopedias, folk medicine, a regional guide to plants and animals. These made her feel far guiltier for burning them. Yet she followed her own rule: anything in this room that could be burned would be.

Her heart ached as she watched botanical illustrations blacken at the edges as fire lapped over a guide to flowers, but she reminded herself of the risk involved should she try to salvage anything. Should there be an unremarkable-seeming notation scrawled in the book, hidden amongst legitimate illustrations and documentations but bearing hidden treachery and dark magic, she’d be responsible should anyone find it in the future. She couldn’t risk that. Everything in the tower room belonged to Morkai, bore his essence, carried his energy. It all had to go.

As the book dissolved into ash, she tossed more herbs onto the fire and returned to the bookcase. It was three-quarters empty now. She felt accomplished so long as her gaze didn’t stray to the multitude of other bookcases awaiting their turn at being cleared.

One at a time , she reminded herself. No matter how long it takes, I will do this one at a time .

In preparation to sense the energies of the next book on the shelf, she reconnected to the elements. Shifting her feet, she grounded her energy, rooting her stance upon the stone floor. Then she breathed in the afternoon air carrying scents of herbs and smoke. To connect to the element of water, she glanced at the basin on the floor, filled with clear liquid. Fire was easy. Not only did it fill the hearth, but the open windows drew in sunlight, filling the room with a golden glow, warming her skin, her hands. She cast her gaze out the window and looked upon the vibrant greens of the forest beyond the castle wall, the emerald mountains dappled in chartreuse.

A note of longing cut through her meditation. It was such a gorgeous summer day. What she wouldn’t give to be outside, enjoying the scents of warm soil, a breeze that didn’t carry dark energies and the ghosts of murdered books. She imagined the freedom of the forest, could almost feel the soft earth beneath her feet, could almost hear the birdsong increase.

Mother Goddess, if I could just be anywhere right now…

Her thoughts drifted to the Forest People’s camp, and her longing deepened. She missed Salinda and Maiya so much more than she’d realized. The past several weeks had given her plenty to occupy her mind and time, and the same was true now, but such distractions had only prolonged her grief over losing her adoptive family. Would she ever see them again? She’d promised herself she would find them as soon as her kingdom was secure…

Her heart sank to her feet at the realization that the Forest People were no longer at the camp she’d left. It was well after Litha now, which meant the commune had already relocated, as they did with every season. To find them again would take tracking skills she didn’t have.

Would she ever find them again?

We will , came Valorre’s voice, and her heart trilled at the comfort it brought. If you can feel them, we can find them .

She wasn’t sure if she could feel them, but she knew it was folly to worry about that now. Not when she had so much work ahead of her. Her kingdom wouldn’t be secure until after the peace pact was signed. As for the tower room…that could take weeks longer. Months.

Darker thoughts lingered at the edges of her consciousness, questions she still had no answers to. Would she ever get the chance to take leave of the castle? Could she ever return to being the witch she longed to be? Was her role as princess shifting into a commitment as future queen?

You’ve been sad , Valorre said.

I have , she admitted.

But furious too .

Yes . She moved to the window, giving herself a better view of the castle’s sprawling property and the towering walls that surrounded it. She felt how near Valorre was, could sense him on the other side of the wall, just out of sight.

You could sneak out again .

Her lips curled into a small smile. The offer was tempting, but she knew she couldn’t risk it during the day. Night was the safest option, but lately she’d been so tired after her work in the tower, she hadn’t even considered it.

Soon , she said and was about to apologize for neglecting him. Then she recalled his speech about treating him like a pet, and she decided to hold her mental tongue. Not that he wasn’t likely reading her thoughts right now. She could sense the strength of their mind link, could feel his care and concern. And perhaps a note of confusion. He’d checked in on her enough the last couple of days to understand what she was upset about, but as a unicorn, he couldn’t grasp the complexities of royal politics.

Valorre’s energy turned distracted. Oh, I know her!

Cora frowned, leaning closer to the windowsill. She caught no sight of the unicorn or whoever had caught his attention. What? Know who?

The answer dove straight toward her, making her bite back a gasp. With her attention on the ground, she hadn’t seen the falcon until it landed on the sill before her.

Cora hopped a step back, barking a yelp of surprise before she could stop herself.

“Highness,” her guard called from the other side of the threshold.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. She wasn’t sure if he could see the window from his post, but at least he knew better than to enter the room. “It’s just a bird.”

Lowering her voice, she shuffled closer to the falcon. “What are you doing, Berol?”

The falcon’s wings were splayed, head bowed. Her posture, along with the long string of chirps she uttered made her seem anxious. Upset. Then Cora noted the scroll of parchment in one talon. The falcon hopped closer, disturbing the line of salt on the sill.

Cora frowned, eying the paper. “Is that…for me?” A spark of hope flitted in her chest. Perhaps Teryn had sent her a sweet letter and, instead of disturbing her with his presence, he’d sent Berol. She extended her hand toward the falcon. Berol uncurled her talon and dropped the scroll onto her inked palm.

Cora quickly unrolled the paper and found it was a short letter. Her eyes dipped to the bottom to find the sender’s name. It was from Teryn’s brother, King Larylis.

Teryn,

I hope this note finds you well. Berol delivered me something that looked like a scrap of your shirt, and it worried me. Please send her back with a reply letting me know if you’re all right.

—Larylis

Cora cocked her head to the side. “Why didn’t you deliver this to Teryn?”

Berol, of course, gave her no answer. Even when she tried to connect with the falcon’s mind, it gave her nothing like the connection she could form with Valorre. Instead, all she felt was unease, agitation.

“Highness,” came her guard’s voice again, edged with a note of urgency. Berol took off from the sill, sending a gust of salt and rosemary in her wake.

Cora tucked the note in her apron pocket and turned toward the door. “Yes?”

A pause. Then, “Something has happened, Princess. Master Arther is here to escort you to speak with the king’s council at once.”

Cora’s heart was in her throat by the time she made it to the bottom of the tower stairwell where Master Arther awaited. After Berol’s strange behavior and the letter she’d delivered, Cora couldn’t help but think the worst. Something must have happened to Teryn. She hadn’t seen him since yesterday morning. Had he returned home without saying goodbye? Had he been hurt or injured on his way? Even so, how had Berol had enough time to make it to Dermaine Palace and back? She supposed falcons were fast, but still…

“What happened?” she asked Master Arther, her voice both sharp and trembling.

The old steward wrung his gloved hands. “It’s best you hear it from the council?—”

“No, I will not take a single step farther until you tell me what happened.”

Arther glanced around, but the hall was empty. Thankfully, the wing beneath the North Tower Library was rarely frequented by anyone but the guards. He released a sigh, and Cora braced herself for the worst.

Please don’t say Teryn is…that he’s…

“It’s about His Majesty the King.”

Her mind went blank. “What? Not Prince Teryn?”

Master Arther grimaced. “Well, it’s about him too, Highness.”

Her pulse hammered, setting her mind back to racing. “Please just tell me at once.”

“You really should speak with the king’s councilmen?—”

“They are not your monarchs,” she said, voice rising to a shout. “Tell me or I’ll find someone else who will. And another steward while I’m at it.”

She was too anxious to feel guilty for her sharp words. While she’d never made such an imperious threat, she was going out of her mind. Her mental shields were already beginning to fray, inviting in Arther’s apprehension, and the curiosity of the stairwell guard behind them.

“Very well,” he mumbled, folding his hands behind his back. “Highness, His Majesty attacked Prince Teryn. He drew a dagger on the prince inside the Godskeep during one of his…” The steward cleared his throat. “Moments.”

Cora pulled her head back, unable to believe his words. “What? How could that…how would he…”

“Lord Kevan will tell you the details. The council has assembled and awaits your presence.”

“Where is my brother?”

“He’s in his room under guard?—”

That was all she needed to hear before she darted from the steward and hurried through the halls toward the keep. The rush of her blood pounded through her ears. She paid no heed to Master Arther’s pleading calls behind her, nor the sound of his feet as he shadowed her up the keep steps. She didn’t slow, didn’t stop, until she reached her brother’s closed doors. Two guards stood outside them, men she recognized as members of Dimetreus’ personal guard.

“Open the doors,” she said, tone filled with cold authority.

“The king is at rest, Highness,” one of the guards said, tone dry.

“Open the doors now.”

They held their positions. Master Arther caught up with her, cheeks flushed pink, gray hair in disarray. “Highness, please?—”

The doors began to open, drawing Cora’s attention back to them. But she didn’t have the guards to thank; they were opening from the other side. She nearly crumpled with relief at seeing her brother’s face. His expression was wan, skin pale, reminding her too much of how he’d looked when he’d been under Morkai’s control.

“Aveline,” he said, eyes turning down at the corners. “You must have heard.”

Cora glanced from her brother to the guards. The latter made no move to usher the king back inside his room or close the doors, which suggested he wasn’t being held prisoner. Then again, he didn’t invite her inside or cross the threshold into the hall.

She lowered her voice. “Can we speak in private?”

He gave her a solemn smile. “It’s better if we speak here.”

Her shoulders tensed. “What happened, Dimi?”

“What have you been told?”

She pursed her lips, eyes roving to the guards again, then to the steward.

Dimetreus held up a placating hand. “It’s all right, Aveline. My guards saw what happened, and I’m sure Master Arther knows about the incident too. You may speak with candor.”

Clenching her jaw, she inched slightly closer to her brother. “Is it true you attacked Prince Teryn in the Godskeep?”

He gave her a rueful nod.

“How, Dimi? Why?”

“It’s as everyone feared. My mind…I’m unwell, Aveline.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand. What happened?”

His expression turned haunted, eyes distant. “I saw him , Aveline. The sorcerer. I heard him, but he wasn’t truly there. It seemed so real. Sounded so real…” He shook his head. “I pulled my dagger on the prince and nearly slit his throat. Thank the seven gods my guards were fast enough to stop me. That the prince managed to get through to me, snapping me out of my hallucination.”

Cora’s stomach turned. She couldn’t imagine her brother doing such a thing?—

No, that wasn’t true. While she couldn’t imagine this version of Dimetreus acting so irrationally, she could imagine such a reaction from the man she met two months ago when he was being controlled by the sorcerer. The night Morkai had brought her to meet her brother in the dining hall, the king had been sweet and jovial one moment, then violent and suspicious the next. He’d called her sister, begged to see her dance, then ousted her as an impostor.

Had she been wrong to trust he could overcome the sorcerer’s abuse?

“You know what this means, right?” he asked, rousing her from her thoughts.

She met his eyes with a questioning glance.

“My council has officially deemed me unfit to rule. According to the terms of the alliance we agreed to, I must abdicate at once and pass my rule to you and your husband. The peace pact will require it.”

The blood drained from her face, making her knees go weak. “No. No, they can’t do this. They’re wrong?—”

“They’re not.” His voice was so firm, Cora was forced to swallow her words. Stepping closer, he gathered Cora’s hands in his. “I can’t do this, Aveline. My mind is fraying. I’m in no state to rule this kingdom any longer. Not only that, but…” He shifted his jaw, then dropped his head, bringing his lips close to her ear. “My hallucination…it made me remember something. Something I’m not proud of.”

She couldn’t bring herself to utter a word, to do so much as breathe loudly.

“I let Morkai take my mind after Linette died. I gave him permission to use me, to warp my thoughts, in exchange for a promise that he could bring her back from the dead.”

She pulled back slightly to meet his eyes. A chill ran down her spine. “That’s not possible. He was already controlling you when she died. He made you believe that I…”

Her body went rigid. In learning to trust her brother again, she’d forgiven him for condemning her for his wife’s death. She’d told herself Morkai had made him believe she could have done such a thing.

What if she was wrong? What if that enraged reaction at having found her in the room with the dead queen…had been genuine?

She forced the question from her mind. No, she remembered the strange sheen over his eyes when he’d ordered her to the dungeon. He hadn’t been in his right mind back then, even before his wife’s demise.

“It’s just the guilt,” she said, her voice uneven. “You’re letting guilt get to you, brother.”

Still holding her hands, he gave them a squeeze. “I’m grateful for your faith in me, but even if you’re right, it doesn’t matter. I’ve proven myself unstable.”

Cora opened her mouth to argue but her brother spoke first.

“I’m tired, Aveline. So tired.”

Her brother’s sorrow slammed into her, destroying the last of her shields. She felt his exhaustion. His fear of his own mind. It was so potent, it made her breath catch.

“I thought I was a poor king because of a sorcerer, but the truth is, I am a shell of a man without Linette. Sometimes I wish I’d died on that battlefield. At least then I’d be with her now.”

A spike of betrayal pierced her heart. How could he say such a thing? Was their kingdom not important to him? And what about her ? Wasn’t Cora enough to make him cherish being alive? “Don’t talk like that.”

“You will be the king I cannot be. Marry the prince and take my crown. You will serve this kingdom better than I ever could.”

Panic laced her throat as she realized what he was saying; she was expected to marry Teryn now . To become queen now .

She shook her head. “I was never meant to rule, Dimi. I am here to help you . To reclaim your birthright and establish your legacy. I never intended…”

She couldn’t finish. How could she admit that she’d seen her role as a temporary one?

Dimetreus’ brows knitted into a furrow. “Are you not happy here, Aveline?” When she gave no answer—for what could she even say in such a frazzled state?—he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know you could have abandoned me at Centerpointe Rock, but you didn’t. That was selfless of you. Should you reject the burden I’m placing upon your head, I won’t blame you. Never could I begrudge you a life of freedom if that is what you want.”

Cora’s chest expanded with a light feeling. He was giving her permission…to say no. To reject her birthright and leave Khero to…

To what? To ruin? To be conquered by King Verdian? With his brothers’ positions, it would be easy to accomplish. Was that something Cora could live with? To end the Caelan line just to shrug off the burden of the throne and run free in the woods?

It was selfish to even consider such a thing. She was stronger than fear. Stronger than the weight of a crown.

Dimetreus spoke again. “Whatever you choose, I will support you. But I must make one request—consider love, Aveline. Don’t shy away from it if that is what makes you hesitate. You and I have lost much in our lives. Our parents. Linette. But I promise you, love is worth it, even if you lose it in the end.”

Cora’s mind went to Teryn, to the curse that still stood between them—between the future of her kingdom—should she fail to break it. Everything was happening too fast, too soon, and her heart was struggling to keep up with it.

Regardless of the racing in her heart, the nausea shredding her stomach, she knew what had to be done.

It was time to tell Teryn the truth.