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I wondered how many times a person could break. If the pieces could ever fit again. But Damien’s pieces? I hadn’t just broken them. I’d burned them. Turned them to ash and scattered them to the wind, hoping Giesel was right, that the wind always carried what needed to be heard.

I whispered to the birds perched in Ravensla’s trees, praying at least one was a songbird.

“Peck his eyes out, please,” I told the morning flocks.

“Or shit on his tunic during one of his big speeches.” But when they took flight, I found myself wishing they carried more than curses.

Maybe, somehow, they’d reach someone. Anyone who might still come for me.

I glanced out at the porch, the same one I had watched Kian and Archer spar on. In the week since my capture, I had avoided the backyard like it carried an infection.

“You’ve hardly eaten since you got to Ravensla,” Damien said, “Veravine’s gown is delicate… it can only be taken in so many times.”

“I don’t care,” I said flatly.

His hand hovered near mine but never touched. He knew better than to try. “Veravine would’ve wanted this,” he said. “Us. You and I, together in her land. She was beloved. The people of Ravensla will rejoice when they learn her blood is marrying the future heir.”

“Forcing me into a marriage isn’t what she would’ve wanted.”

The estate felt emptier without Archer or Kian. Larger. Lonelier. The only comfort was Victor’s absence. But Damien kept inching closer. Three days ago, he’d brushed my shoulder when he turned. Today, he hovered so close I could feel his breath.

I considered eating a dozen cloves of garlic just to keep him away. He knew better than to enter my mind, but there was some twisted comfort in knowing he struggled to shield around me.

“We’ll be good together,” Damien said. “I’ll make you happy.”

That was the twelfth time he’d said it this week.

I turned away without a word.

My eyes landed on the portrait above the fireplace. His father’s hand clutched his mother’s arm, not with affection, but with control. Her skin looked almost translucent, her smile brittle. I’d seen Damien’s idea of our future. He called it a fantasy. I called it a prison.

“You’ll have to kiss me at the wedding to seal the marriage bond,” he said from behind me. “Then, if you want, we never have to speak again.”

“I want to go home,” I snapped, heat rising to my fingertips. “Maybe I want to kill you.”

Flame kindled, hovering dangerously near his jaw. It took everything in me not to burn him where he stood.

“Home?” he barked. “To Bridger, who took your title? To a father who never believed in you?” He stepped closer. “You want love—real love? I’m real. If it’s a bond you need, I’ll give it. But for gods’ sake, Sev, look at me!”

I slapped him hard .

And Gods, it felt good.

“You died,” I snapped. “You lied. You tricked me into believing you were someone else. And then you shattered everything.”

“I never stopped trying,” he whispered. “Let me show you. Let me allow you in.”

“You’ll let me in your mind? After weeks of pushing me away at the academy?” I stepped back. “Maybe I don’t want to be trapped with your thoughts.”

His jaw flexed. “Can’t you see I’m trying?”

“Screw you.” I threw up my hands. “You’re completely delirious.”

I needed out of that stifling, shrunken-down castle.

I bolted for the front door, wrenching it open before Damien could stop me.

Heat slammed into my face, the dry air burning in my throat as I stumbled outside.

My skirt tangled around my legs while I tore through Grimswire’s winding streets, past vendors shouting over crates of sun-warmed fruit, down alleyways that narrowed like snares closing in.

I didn’t stop running until my knees hit sand. I crumpled onto the shore, breath heaving, the sea stretching wide and endless before me, all wind and crashing waves.

“How do I get out of this?” I whispered.

“Excuse me, dear… are you alright?”

I turned. A woman stood behind me, cloaked in a deep brown dress, her skin bronzed by sun and sea.

“Yes,” I said softly. “Thank you for asking.”

She dipped her head. “Gailyn Reinhart,” she said. “I made that skirt you’re wearing almost twenty years ago. Collected each pearl by hand.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said, glancing down. “I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re wondering. ”

“No,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Word is, the heir of Ravensla is getting married. Civilians say she has green eyes.”

I nodded. “Reinhart... Myla, is she your daughter?”

Her face lit up. “Myla. Yes, she is.” She cleared her throat. “Do you know her?”

“We trained together at the academy. Later... we were both in Malvoria.”

“I haven’t seen her in almost a year,” she murmured. “Not since she left for the academy.”

When her gaze dropped, I asked, “Did you make a red gown? Gems and lace?” I smiled faintly. “It’s at the Serpent Estate now.”

Her smile faltered. “I made every gown for Veravine Almera. After she died, I lost everything. Men’s fashion isn’t the same, but I’ve made do.”

I turned to the sea, dark and restless. “Would you ever go back? To designing for the elite?”

She laid a hand on my shoulder. “Come. Let’s get you some orange malt tea. You look like you’ve had enough sun.”

We followed a winding path to a weathered house, its windows warped by salt, its shutters faded and peeling. The door creaked softly as we stepped inside. There were no portraits of Myla on the walls, only dragon sketches and landscapes painted in muted silvers and blue.

“You have her eyes,” Gailyn said as she poured our drinks. “I never thought I’d see them again.”

I sipped the sweet drink. “Whatever you think of me... it’s not true.”

She offered a faint smile. “I used to dream of Myla living a life like yours. But now I see that gold and titles don’t mean happiness.” Her gaze met mine. “You look like you’re ready to break. ”

“I’m lost,” I admitted quietly. “But my troubles don’t matter.”

“Who told you that?” she asked. “Your troubles matter. You matter.”

“Not really. I have a roof over my head. I have food. That’s more than most. My problems don’t count.”

“There are only so many times you can run before your legs forget how to carry you past the bend,” she said softly. “Mine did.”

I studied her. “Are you telling me to escape?”

“Never let anyone force you into something.” She tilted my chin with a gentle hand. “Keep your head high, dear. And if you stay… I might just have one last gown in me.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean for you to make me a gown. I’d never ask that of a stranger.”

She smiled. “Any friend of Myla’s is a friend to me. And I’ll make it short enough to run in.”

It had been too long since someone touched me with that kind of motherly care. Maybe she thought I was delirious. Maybe I was. But I needed this more than I’d realized.

“Myla’s strong,” I murmured. “She made rank at Malvoria. Led her first mission a few weeks ago.”

Gailyn set her mug down, pride flickering in her eyes. “She’s one of a kind, that girl.”

I wondered if meeting Myla’s mother was more than coincidence. Maybe the wind knew I needed her.

“Thank you,” I said. “For the drink. And the kindness.”

She nodded. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

I stepped out into the night, bracing for whatever hell waited after being gone an hour.

“Where were you?” Damien hissed after I made it back to the estate. “I had my father’s guards searching the entire city. I thought you were taken.”

I sat cross-legged on the wooden floor in my room, sipping wine and twirling a dagger in the other hand. “Am I not free to wander?”

“Not when you disappear for hours.”

“You don’t control me,” I shot back. “You may force me to marry you, but I won’t listen to a damn word you say.”

“Keep drinking that wine and you’ll be a mess,” he sneered. “You don’t want to admit that a part of you loved me.”

“No part of me loves you,” I spat. “I correct myself… loved you.”

Damien flinched as if I’d struck him with a hot sword. “We have guests coming to announce our wedding. I suggest you pretend to at least like me.”

“Like hell.”

“I believe there is a guest you’ll want to impress.”

“Who is coming?” I asked. “I don’t care to impress anyone.”

His eyes narrowed, calculating. “Hold my hand at dinner, and I’ll tell you.”

“If you think I care to impress anyone, you are mistaken.”

“This person you will.”

I sighed. “How about I glance your way, and we call it a deal?”

He leaned in, offering me a crooked smile. “Promise?”

“Yes.”

“The king… he’s the one you need to convince that you don’t love Archer anymore. And your brother, Charles. Your little performance for his freedom. They may have released Archer from the prison, but he’s still on trial for treason. All you did was spare him the torture.”

“The king has a truth quell. That won’t help me. ”

Damien swept a finger beneath my chin, tilting my face toward his. “Doesn’t matter. Now smile, Sev. Like you fucking mean it.”

I bared my teeth. “How’s this?”

He studied me for a beat. “Better, I suppose. Though it’s more beast than bride.”

Oh, I’d smile. I’d smile when I burned this whole sham of a marriage to the ground.