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AS I STEPPED with Eunice from the void and into the foyer of the stone fortress, it occurred to me that I had no idea what I would come back to. I hadn’t been gone long—less than two hours—but enough time had passed for my enemies to stir up trouble if they’d caught wind of my absence. It also occurred to me that I needed to find more private, secure doorways through which to come and go. Surely Marisol had one or two tucked away in discreet places where she was able to slip in and out without attracting notice.

But with the situation as it was in the fortress, I really wasn’t in the mood to hide or skulk around. If someone wanted to come at me, they weren’t going to get a second chance.

“Oh! Oh, dear my,” Eunice exclaimed beside me. “This place is just lovely. The granite, the tiles, and oh, so many gemstones.”

The fortress foyer was indeed beautiful, but I barely saw the intricate patterns of inlaid semi-precious stones. I was immediately on alert, trying to take in the entire grand room at once, but without appearing worried about my own safety.

To a large extent, it looked like business as usual in the fortress. Clerks were sorting notes into cubbies in the mail room to one side of the foyer. Pages scurried around. Most notable to me was the pair of soldiers—one full-fledged member of the battle ranks and the other a youngster I recognized from Emmaline’s troops—who rushed to me as soon as they noticed my presence. I tensed, but they simply came to stand by me, one on each side, as if it were planned. Oliver must have stationed patrol pairs around the fortress with orders to protect me when I appeared.

I gave my guards subtle nods.

“Where to, Your Highness?” asked the older one.

“I need someone in housing to find quarters for Eunice, here, a friend of the kingdom who will be staying with us for a while,” I said. I could only hope that Amalie, the newly appointed Head Administrator, actually had someone to help her with housing.

The soldier flipped his fingers at a nearby page, beckoning the girl over. She curtsied to me, and he spoke a few quick words to her. She looked curiously at Eunice.

“Please follow me, madam,” the page said.

Eunice glanced at me, her face tense, and I gave her an encouraging nod. “You’re safe here. Make yourself comfortable and let this young lady know if there’s anything you need right away. I’ll call for you when I have a moment.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a young man arrive at the far end of the foyer. He stopped short and peered at me with narrowed eyes and then wheeled around to go back the way he’d come.

The page and Eunice bobbed quick curtsies and then headed away.

As we’d been standing in the foyer, more and more people had taken notice of my return.

“Did you see that man who turned around and left when he saw me?” I asked my guards.

“Yes, Your Highness,” the younger said.

“I’m guessing he’s not one of my supporters?”

“You guess correctly, Your Majesty,” the older solder said, his face hardening in a way that reminded me of Oliver. “I suggest we make our way out of the public’s eye. Your new quarters have been prepared. We’ll take you there.”

“Good idea,” I said.

As we moved through the hallways, more pairs of soldiers joined us. They didn’t say anything, they just fell in step with us. By the time we’d reached a gilded door in one of the residential wings, I was surrounded by ten guards. I appreciated the protection, but it irked me that I even needed it. And more significantly, it made me look weak. What kind of ruler needed to be protected in her own home? My mouth twisted as I silently answered my own question: One who’d taken the throne against the wishes of her people.

Four of the guards accompanied me inside my new home and made a sweep through the rooms. I trailed behind them, trying to orient myself in the unfamiliar space. Ten minutes later, I was alone, though I presumed some of the soldiers had stationed themselves outside my door.

Placing my hands on my hips, I turned away from the front entrance and faced my living room. Digging into my memory of the fortress’s layout, I recalled these quarters were in an area usually reserved for foreign dignitaries. As long as it wasn’t Marisol’s old apartment, I didn’t really care where my new place was.

The furniture was opulent, but not brand new. Amalie, or whomever was helping her, probably hadn’t a chance to actually move anything around in the short time there’d been to prepare these rooms.

I did a quick exploration and found a library, a small office, an entertainment room with a large darkened screen on the wall, a master suite with a ridiculously cavernous attached bathroom designed around a raised spa tub, a small formal dining room, two spare bedrooms, and a kitchenette.

I snorted and shook my head. Who needed this much space?

I couldn’t help a little inhale of delight when I discovered another, less formal living room with French doors that opened into a private courtyard. It featured a little circular winding stream that fed into a pond with a tinkling waterfall at the far end. I heard the low hum of the pump that recirculated the water. A frog sprang from the tall grass and plopped into the water.

For a moment, I just stood there in the Faerie sunshine, taking in the chirp of birds, the soft breeze that subtly stirred the leaves of the miniature Japanese maples growing on either side of the waterfall.

The ring of a phone jarred me from the serene moment. Reluctantly, I went back inside and pulled the French doors closed. I found a phone on a side table and picked up the handpiece.

“Yes?”

“Your Highness, this is Amalie. I’m having your personal tablet delivered to your quarters, and also, Lord Lothlorien wants to meet with you immediately, if you’re available.”

My brows lifted in surprise. Not at what she’d said, but because she was the one calling me.

“Of course, tell him to come to my rooms as soon as he can,” I said. “And Amalie?”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“I don’t claim to be an expert on these things, but I’m guessing that fetching my lost items and attending to my schedule don’t normally fall under the duties of the Head Administrator.”

There was a pause.

“Well, they are my duties in the strictest literal sense,” she said, clearly choosing her words carefully. “In that all pages, assistants, and similar support staff are officially under my department, so anyone managing your schedule would report directly to me.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes briefly. “Have you not been able to find anyone to work under you?”

“Oh, I have,” she said. “I’ve got a handful of employees. It’s just . . . I’m not completely sure who I may be able to rely on without worry. I can only question potential employees about their trustworthiness so much before seeming like a tyrant.”

Stifling a sigh, I thought for a minute. “How about employing some of the younger Carraig?”

“Your Majesty?”

“You may have noticed that I have a contingent of young volunteer guards,” I said. “To be blunt, they showed up at my door the first morning I returned here as Queen, and they were the only ones to so publicly demonstrate their support. I seem to have quite a fiercely loyal faction among the senior academy students. Perhaps some of them would be willing to help you. They also may have like-minded friends who would rather fulfill administrative duties than carry swords and wear armor.”

“That’s a fine idea, and I’ll follow up on it right away,” she said, her tone brightening.

A cheery chime rang through the quarters.

“That’s the page or Maxen,” I said. “I’ll let you go.”

I hung up and made my way to the front door. Peering through the peephole, I confirmed it was Maxen and let him in.

He held up a tablet and passed it to me. “Got this from a page headed this way.”

I let out a short laugh. “I was just lecturing Amalie about not performing duties that her underlings should be doing.”

He appeared to be in a somewhat buoyant mood, seemingly more at ease in my presence than he’d been in a long time. Perhaps having Nicole home had boosted his spirits enough that he could be less dour in my presence.

I crooked my finger at him. “You’ve got to see this.”

I led him through the quarters and back out to the courtyard. I figured if it had lifted my spirits, it couldn’t hurt to take him out there for our meeting.

A faint smile tugged at his lips as he took in the little outdoor scene. “Quite lovely,” he said.

We started to wander around the perimeter of the courtyard.

“I’m sure there are things you need to discuss,” I said. “But I want to let you know about something I brought up with King Oberon.”

He tilted a look at me.

I took a breath. “I mentioned the hidden New Gargs th—that Marisol spoke of months ago,” I said, faltering a bit when I got to her name.

Maxen took it in stride, but he looked concerned. “How did that come up?”

I recounted the discussion with Eldon and the High King about the blood of the Fomoire awakening.

His blue eyes widened with surprise and wonder. “That’s . . . well, it’s almost hard to believe. But in some strange way it seems right.”

We were silent for a few moments.

“Oberon was practically giddy,” I said. “He seems to think this—we—will be his secret weapon against the Tuatha. The power of ancient god blood to fight the vengeful gods of today.”

Maxen’s concern deepened into two vertical lines between his brows, and he exhaled a long breath through his nose. “That’s not surprising. After what the Tuatha did to him in the Giants’ Causeway, I’m sure he’s extremely eager to hit hard when they attack.”

I blinked. “First of all, I wouldn’t expect Oberon to just be thinking of himself. Isn’t he more focused on the larger purpose of saving Faerie? After all, he’s the High King of the entire realm.”

Maxen slid a significant look at me, his mouth tightening. “Oh, sure he is. But it’s also become intensely personal to him.”

I frowned at the ground and then squinted up into the blue sky. Of course Maxen was right. I’d sensed something off about Oberon’s behavior but brushed past it at the time. I could only blame my inexperience with kings and politics. But now it made sense. Oberon’s eagerness was, of course, partly driven by his own agenda. Maybe largely driven by it. The realization didn’t really change things, not in any profound ways, but my view of the entire situation had subtly shifted. It was a small shift, but not a meaningless one.

Maxen was still watching me. “There was a first of all. What’s the second of all?” he prompted.

My lips parted. “Uh, I don’t remember,” I said sheepishly. “Too much going on in here, I guess.” I tapped my temple. “I’m losing my edge. But back to the so-called hidden New Gargs. Was that true?”

He tucked his chin into his chest. “Yes, it’s true.”

“Where are they?” I asked, gaping at him. I realized I hadn’t quite believed it, that there were more people of stone blood out there. When Marisol had spoken of them, it had felt more like a myth than a reality.

“Mostly in the Earthly realm.”

I shook my head once. “Are they changelings? Do they even know they’re Fae?”

“Most of them know.”

“How many?”

We’d reached the little waterfall, and Maxen stopped to gaze at it. I stood beside him.

“I’m not sure, exactly,” he said, staring at the moving water. “We’d only barely started the project of contacting them, before . . .”

Before I drove a sword through his mother, cutting that work short.

“It’s going to be quite a job to locate them,” he continued, saving me from having to respond. “And most of them are of my mother’s generation. One of her prophecies told her long ago that the New Gargs needed to hide some of their numbers, that it was the only way to ensure the survival of our people.”

I frowned. “But if there were enough of them, it really could have helped her bid for kingdomhood to have them join us here in Faerie. I always believed that was her top priority.”

When Marisol had petitioned to have the Order raised to an official kingdom, one of the arguments against her was our small numbers.

“I guess you could say she had two top priorities,” Maxen said. “One was a kingdom for the New Gargs. The other was the survival of our people. She had to balance both of them. I would guess there are maybe four hundred more stone bloods out there in the Earthly realm.”

I wasn’t sure what to say for a long moment.

“Those people,” I said quietly. “They gave up everything based on Marisol’s prophecy, going across the hedge to try to live as humans. Non-Fae. I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for them.”

Sure, I’d run off from Faerie as soon as I graduated, but I hadn’t left for good. I was still Fae, and I never had to pretend to be otherwise. As badly as I’d wanted to leave the fortress, I would have been devastated to be completely cut off from my homeland, though I might not have admitted it as a cocky eighteen-year-old mercenary.

“Most of them have been completely cut off from all news of Faerie this whole time,” Maxen said.

My frown deepened. “Are they going to feel their sacrifice was all in vain? Now that Marisol is gone?”

“I don’t know. They left many years ago, knowing it was a safeguard, that no one truly knew what the future held.”

“Some of them may not even want to come back. By now they’ve got jobs, friends, probably some have families.”

“If Finvarra’s attempt to control us with the Stone affected those of New Garg blood like Jasper who weren’t even in the fortress, it may have also happened to those on the other side of the hedge. I have a funny feeling most are feeling the tug of their homeland right now.”

I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.

“Then we definitely need to invite them to come back to Faerie,” I said. I let out a quiet, heavy sigh.

“I will continue the work of finding them,” Maxen said.

I nodded. “I imagine that Oberon’s going to be calling upon us very soon to figure out what our god blood can do. When I left, he and Eldon were talking about consulting experts and scholarly works.”

“Let’s wait until he pushes us on that. We have enough to contend with here for the moment.”

“Right,” I said. I took a deep breath. I’d been avoiding a topic that I knew I couldn’t dance around any longer. “On that note, what of my failed assassins?”

I braced myself as I looked at him, as if his response would come as a physical blow.

“Oliver is probably the better one to fill you in on that topic, but . . .” Maxen met my gaze, and his sapphire blue eyes were full of regret. “Some were caught. Several escaped through doorways to other realms before they could be apprehended.”

I passed a hand over my eyes. “How many were caught?”

“Four.”

“I’m going to have to execute them, aren’t I?”

“You’re Queen of this realm. The choice is yours.”

“But?”

Maxen chewed his bottom lip for a second or two. “You were clear. You said that any subject who raised a weapon at you would be punished to the fullest extent. Going back on that would only weaken your position.”

My stomach was trying to compact itself into a hard little point, and my rib cage seemed to constrict around my lungs.

“I don’t want to kill my own subjects, Maxen,” I whispered.

“I know, Petra.” His face was drawn. “But they chose their actions. They knew the consequences if they were caught.”

Misery crept through me, gripping me until I ached. I dropped my head and squeezed my eyes closed, wishing with everything I had that I could figure out another way.

Maxen’s hand touched my upper arm, and I looked up. “This, figuring this out, will be the worst moment. This will be the lowest point of your reign. You simply have to find a way to get through it.”

I nodded, but I honestly couldn’t imagine how I’d do it.