Page 12

T HEY PUT HER IN A CELL BY HERSELF . Gains strung her up against the cold stone wall, forcing her to stand with her arms above her head, her ankles shackled now, too. She was alone except for a black bird that watched her closely from a perch over the door. She recognized it as Reighven’s familiar.

There were half a dozen heart magic spells she could do from this position, but all she could think of was the life draining from Eden’s eyes. And the other two? Velicity and the black-haired woman whose name she didn’t even know? What had become of them?

She thought about the Heartstop that she hadn’t been able to complete. You have to really mean it, Princess , Reighven had said. She knew that to be true. To use the darker magics, one had to channel that darkness inside of oneself.

Reighven had killed Eden because she was nothing to him. The hate that burned in her heart now was enough to squeeze the life out of him. If she had the opportunity again, she wouldn’t fail.

Standing upright with the feeling drifting out of her hands, Briony finally had a moment to think.

Why did she have her magic? No, not her magic. Her magic was mind magic. This magic was the thing she rarely tapped into, and then only when she needed to help Rory.

Did this collar only work on mind magic? No. Larissa was also wearing a collar, and she was a heart magician. Unless Larissa was there to deceive them …

Briony tugged on the magic in her chest. She twirled her fingertips and felt a breeze cast its way through the dark empty room. She felt the pulse of it in her chest, thick like honey.

It made her think of Rory.

Rory was dead. Her father was dead. There were no other Rosewood men that she knew of.

The line was gone. Her entire realm was ended.

Despite many other countries moving past patriarchal succession, though slowly, Evermore had never budged.

There was only the king, and then his male heir.

There would never be a queen. Any time in the past that Evermore had been left in a position like this, with no male heir, the women in the family had scrambled to produce one while the cabinet ruled as regent.

Briony didn’t even know how many cabinet advisers had survived.

Any? Even so, it would take a male heir from Briony, Phoebe, or Phoebe’s sister, Finola, to reinstate their line.

Where was Finola? She hadn’t been in the dungeon with the other women. The last time Briony had seen her, she was portaling out of the Claremore courtyard, carrying out a mission. Could she hope that Finola hadn’t been captured at all?

Briony created lists upon lists of questions that didn’t have answers.

She created lists of those who possibly survived.

Sammy, Didion … Was Sammy’s father still alive?

She couldn’t imagine letting someone like General Billium Meers live.

Perhaps he was being tortured for all the realm’s military information.

Briony tried to let her mind center on immediate problems, like the auction.

Would the Bomardi really sell them like animals?

But she didn’t have to think on that long. She knew it to be true. The final year at the Bomardi school, before the attack, the Bomardi boys had whispered about it. She’d heard more than a few numbers thrown around when one of their prettier classmates walked by. Numbers they would pay to own her.

Briony shivered.

Perhaps she’d seen Toven Hearst talking numbers less than the others. Maybe she’d imagined it—the way he’d tell his friends to knock it off, the way he’d had to tell Collin Twindle to shut up about how much money he had to spend.

Maybe she just wanted it to be true.

Liam Quill had gotten into a fistfight with Didion in the final year at Bomard, and when they’d been separated—with Liam the worse off—Liam had given one parting shot: “When the walls come down in Evermore, you best not let me find you,” he’d hissed.

“I won’t even sell you off. I’ll keep you, chain you, bleed your magic dry”—he’d nodded at Briony in the crowd—“and make you watch as I fuck your girl every night.”

Briony had scarcely known what Liam was talking about then, only that she was suddenly a part of the narrative.

Didion had bellowed at him, fighting off the tutors holding him back.

Toven had stepped in, shoved Didion back with magic, and quick as lightning wrapped his hand around Liam’s throat.

He whispered something into Liam’s face that had the boy snarling, and Briony had been swept into the retreating crowd as more tutors had appeared.

All three boys had gotten demerits. Briony had thought a lot about Toven’s reaction, both then and now.

He hated vulgarity—always had. Toven’s mother had been a socialite from across the sea, a dignitary’s daughter.

Briony thought perhaps Serena had raised Toven quite differently from the other Bomardi boys.

But of course, there were times he’d proved her wrong …

The black bird cawed, making Briony jump. The door opened with a creaking sound, and adrenaline flooded Briony’s tired body. She stood upright, having started to sag.

Reighven slid into the cell with a coy grin, leaning against the door to close it. He crossed his arms, and it wasn’t lost on Briony that she was alone with a dangerous, lecherous man.

“I appreciate your fight, Princess.”

She said nothing, just watched him.

He sauntered closer, and Briony’s eyes flicked to the crack in the door, begging someone to come in.

“I always have,” he said, tilting his head. “Appreciated you, I mean. It’s a shame you couldn’t kill me back there. For you.”

He stopped in front of her, and she had to press her back against the stones to keep from brushing him as she breathed. He lifted a hand, and her blood froze in her veins. He trailed a finger over the thin sleeve at her shoulder.

“Gains won’t sell you to me privately. He thinks the Princess of Evermore will fetch a high price at auction.” His fingertip slid down her dress, following the fabric. “But don’t worry, pet. I’ve been saving for this for a long time. You’ll be mine.”

His hand passed over her ribs, over her hip.

“So I don’t think there’s a problem with an early taste.”

The chains rattled as she shook. “Get your hands off me,” she snarled, far braver than she felt.

He smirked at her, his rancid breath puffing against her face. “We’re going to have so much fun together.” His hand cupped her between the legs over her dress.

Briony gasped as every muscle in her body turned to ice.

“I wasn’t aware Gains was open to negotiation,” said a voice from the doorway. Reighven removed his hand and stepped back, and Briony’s knees gave out in relief. Until she realized who it was.

Orion Hearst stood in the cell entry. Toven’s father—and there was no doubt about it.

He’d given his son that preternaturally silver-gray hair and his towering height.

Orion was not only the richest man in all Bomard, but also the most ruthless.

Over the four years that Evermore had warred with Bomard, Orion Hearst had been on every major front line.

With an unheard-of skill to split his casting against multiple opponents, he was the most feared fighter in Bomard.

And since Mallow had come to power, he had started increasing his power, now no longer feeling his heart rip with every kill.

The price of Heartstop was something Orion Hearst no longer had to pay.

Rory once asked Briony why Orion Hearst was only eighth in line for the Seat. “With so much power and so much money, why is he so low on the succession line?”

“Self-preservation,” Briony had guessed. “Any higher up and he’d be a target.”

Rory hadn’t understood that, but Briony, who’d hidden herself for years as something unremarkable, had a certain respect for someone who knew they deserved more but held themselves back for whatever reason. Briony’s reason was Rory. She wondered what Orion’s reason was.

Reighven frowned at Orion. “You got my message?”

Orion pulled a vial from his pocket, twitching it slightly. “The Gowarnus herb mixture.” Orion stepped into the room, his form backlit from the hallway torches. “So good of you to keep her company, Reighven,” he said silkily. “I’ll be sure to let Gains know that his lot has a friend in you.”

Lot. As in, a lot up for auction.

Reighven sneered and stepped away from her. “She’ll be mine soon enough. I would have paid Gains the five thousand gold.”

Briony’s brows jumped at the sum.

“I’m sure,” Orion hummed. He turned his eyes on Briony as he stopped directly in front of her.

“Miss Rosewood. Lovely to see you again,” he said mockingly.

“I believe the last time we met was the day the Bomardi school fell.” His brows lifted in fake realization.

“Ah, no. I’m thinking of someone else entirely. Aren’t I?”

Briony pressed her lips together. The other thing people said about Orion Hearst was that he liked to toy with his prey.

Briony met his gaze with more bravery than she felt. “Mr. Hearst. It’s kind of you to call,” she said, her voice steady even as her stomach turned to ice.

His eyes narrowed on her, and for a moment she felt examined, flayed open. He looked so much like his son, but where Toven lacked patience, Orion Hearst was nothing if not patient.

He uncorked the vial and tipped it to her lips.

She pressed her mouth closed, shaking her head, but with barely a flick of his fingers, her mouth was magically wrenched open.

She tried to close her throat, but she coughed on the sour elixir all the way down.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to hold on to the vein that channeled her heart magic, searching for the pulse in her chest. But with a final flutter, it was gone.

There was nothing there—it was dormant now.

“Why didn’t the collar work on her?” Reighven asked.