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“HE’S HERE!” CARMILLIAN’S voice was powerful and full of authority, the sound immediately dragging Caro from sleep and back into reality. The scraping thud of the bar being removed banished the last of his sleepy lethargy, so he jumped to his feet as the door was yanked open.

Bright light from the hallway outside flooded the room, blinding him.

“Caro!”

Hearing Braxton calling his name was the best thing that had happened to Caro that day. Caro stumbled forward, blinking away the stars clouding his vision, and found himself suddenly enveloped in familiar, welcoming, and so-very-warm arms. Caro gripped the front of the tunic covering Braxton’s armor, wishing he could press closer and feel skin against skin and listen to Braxton’s heartbeat, which Caro presumed was thumping as hard as Caro’s. Since he couldn’t do that, he tucked his nose into the side of Braxton’s neck, where the shoulder of his armor ended, accessible thanks to the fact that Braxton had removed his helmet, and breathed in the scent of sweat, man, and Braxton. For the first time since the decision had been made to attack the castle in Svental, Caro’s shoulders relaxed and he finally felt he could breathe.

“Cousin,” Carmillian said softly, as if she regretted the necessity of needing to interrupt.

Caro reluctantly pulled away but was gratified when Braxton immediately took his hand. “Queen Carmillian Svent, it is an honor to meet you,” Caro replied, bowing low.

“No need for that, cousin,” she replied, reaching out with one hand to motion him back upright. “You were instrumental in aiding with the removal of the false king and helping me return to my rightful place. You will never need to bow to me.”

Caro had a ton of questions, number one being the fact that he had zero living aunts or uncles and definitely no cousins. His father had been very efficient in removing any potential competition. Yet, the fact that Carmillian clearly had the royal power gave her the right to claim the throne. If she was a better ruler than King Cyphus, Caro didn’t have any issues. He just didn’t know how they were related or even where she had come from. Now wasn’t the time or place to ask, though, so Caro kept his mouth shut.

“While Prince Caro’s sentiments are appreciated, before I can officially be called queen, we first need to locate the impostor king,” she continued. “He is knowledgeable enough in the use of Namin’s royal magic to conceal himself from other royals, so I cannot locate him as I did Caro. Prince Braxton, please continue your search. He must be somewhere in this castle, so you or one of the other groups will find him eventually. I believe it is time for me to address the residents of this castle, the servants and the nobles whom you have confined. Prince Caro, would it be possible for you to accompany me?”

Caro squeezed Braxton’s hand, and Braxton squeezed back. They could go their separate ways for now to do their duty as princes of their respective kingdoms, safe in the knowledge that when their tasks were complete, they would be together again.

“I would be happy to join you,” Caro replied, but then he glanced down at what he was wearing, which was armor covered by a travel-stained tunic in the colors of Toval, same as Braxton’s. “Should I put on a more appropriate outfit first?” He probably had some suitable clothes stashed in his bedroom.

Carmillian frowned in thought for a moment before shaking her head. “No. It will hammer in the point that things have changed if you show up as you are.” She grinned. “I bet some of your detractors will be eating crow.”

She knew about his past. Ama had likely told her, or she might actually be able to see the past like she claimed and had taken a look into his history. That was good, since it meant she was prepared for how little having his support would mean.

“I doubt it, but if you want me there, I’m happy to support you.”

“Right.” She clapped her hands. “Let’s get to work.”

The groups dispersed, Braxton slowly released Caro’s hand, squeezing one last time before he returned to the hallway he had been searching before Carmillian had waylaid him. Caro led the way for Carmillian, Ama, and the small group of soldiers he assumed Captain Zain had assigned to guard her—or, more likely, to keep watch on her to ensure she wasn’t a snake like the rest of Caro’s family. Caro was therefore the only one who actually knew the passages.

“Do you want to see the nobles or the servants first?” Caro asked when they had climbed two sets of stairs and had paused to catch their breath on the landing.

“Nobles first. Before they riot because they weren’t able to sleep off last night’s hangovers, haven’t been served breakfast, and were forced into public in their night robes.” She giggled. “Toval’s Captain Zain has a bit of a mean streak, one I heartily approve of.”

“She just doesn’t take any nonsense,” Caro replied. He might have only met her once, but he was certain she wasn’t mean-spirited, just direct and unwilling to allow fools to get their selfish whims. He led the way down the hall to the right, waving at Fen’s group as they passed. The throne room had a small antechamber behind the throne, a place where accoutrements of state could be stored for use throughout the day and retrieved with ease. It also hid the secret door. From the outside, the door required Caro push a button, which released a lever that had to be pulled down until it was completely flat, to release the lock. One of the guards went through first to check the room and waved them forward a moment later. Caro followed Carmillian inside, waited for the rest of their group to follow, and then closed the door again.

“Through there is the dais where the throne sits,” he explained when Carmillian craned her neck, trying to see outside of the tiny room without actually sticking her head out. “It’s illegal for anyone not invited by the king to even touch the dais, so everyone will be on the floor about three feet below. Guards will be stationed around the room, but they’ll be handpicked by Captain Zain and shouldn’t be a problem.”

She nodded at him. “Right. That helps. Let’s do this.”

Carmillian straightened her shoulders and strode forward, out onto the dais with her head held high. Caro followed, one step back and to her left as the second most important person in her entourage. The rest of the group ranged behind them, spreading out along the back wall as Carmillian came to a stop about a foot from the edge.

The room was rectangular, with the dais at one end and massive doors currently closed and guarded at the other. The assembled nobles were actually in their dressing robes. Caro had thought that a joke, but Zain had literally dragged them out of bed without a chance to primp and pamper. Which meant they were furious and anxious. Haughty nobles didn’t look nearly as snobbish when they were half naked, and their sneers down their noses fell flat. Although, most of them gasped, surprise on their faces rather than sneers, when they caught sight of Carmillian. The room fell silent as heads turned in her direction.

“My good people of Namin, you have been lied to for the last time!” Carmillian called, her voice again containing that authoritative note that made Caro immediately want to trust her, as if she was so certain of her words being true that the chances of there being another interpretation were nonexistent. “The false king is finally gone, and the rightful heir has returned to Namin to retake a throne cruelly stolen.”

“And we’re to assume you’re the rightful heir, then?” Baron Threstaught called. He had been leaning indolently against the wall to the left, near one of the tapestries depicting a long-gone ancestor glowing golden with magic, his hands outstretched over a kneeling populace. “Sorry to disappoint you, but there isn’t anyone alive who can make that claim aside from Prince Cadell.”

“Prince Cadell is dead,” Carmillian announced, holding out her hands to forestall the questions immediately shouted at her. “But since he was a false prince, his death is no loss to Namin.”

“And you still think you can take the throne just like that?” Threstaught sneered. He glanced at Caro briefly, and his lip curled even further.

“One hundred and twenty years ago, the heir to the throne of Namin was a princess named Cally. She had the power to see the past, present, and future, the same as her father, the king. Her older brother was jealous, selfish, and spoiled. He wanted the throne, but he could only see past and present. His power was lesser, so Cally was chosen as heir instead.” Carmillian looked around the room briefly, gauging the rapt audience, before returning her gaze to Threstaught. “He killed his parents in their sleep. Despite the king of the time being able to see the future, he refused to believe the son he loved would turn so evil. When the prince went to kill his sister, she was gone, for she had seen and believed the future. And the future was clear: she had to flee, if only to ensure the future of the country she had been raised to serve. She knew the power of the royal family of Namin would wane, each subsequent generation born with less and less ability, as long as her brother’s descendants remained on the throne. But she also knew one of her descendants would return to retake the stolen throne and return Namin to the greatness that once was.”

Carmillian didn’t look away from Threstaught, but somehow her presence had the rest of the room focused on her.

“The future is still clear,” she continued after allowing for a moment of profound silence, although Caro could sense skepticism in the way some people were shaking their heads in disbelief. Carmillian let out a breath and her third eye opened, the golden glow of her magic suffusing her body with light. “The future of Namin could be great, a chance for everyone to prosper in wealth and in happiness.” Her voice rang with power as well as authority, her words as suffused with her magic as her body. “But only if I am allowed to sit in this seat,” she added with a wave toward the empty throne. “If you allow the false king to regain power, in five years Namin will no longer exist. The eastern lands will belong to Toval, the west will fall to tribal warfare, and the city of Svental will be nothing but rubble.” The golden glow faded and her third eye closed. “I want Namin to prosper as one of the most influential countries in the world, and I promise I can ensure that happens if you’ll support me along the way.”

She slowly turned her head, looking at every single person assembled in the room, catching each gaze with her own. Caro knew what that felt like, as if she could look through him, see the heart of what made him, and parse all his secrets. He had felt it when she spoke to him while she was in the courtyard and Caro was using his magic to eavesdrop, and he could see the impact she was having now. Some of the courtiers bowed, others simply nodded, and even the ones that didn’t move had a wide-eyed look of “oh shit.” There would be no passive-aggressive backstabbing with her on the throne, and the practice of allowing the nobles to skim money and resources off the crown to pacify them was over. While that certainly panicked some people, more had the beginnings of dawning relief showing on their faces. Lowered shoulders, faint smiles, and the tight wrinkles around mouth and eyes from pinched worry beginning to fade.

Of course, these were men and women accustomed to the vagaries of the court; their first instinct was distrust. Carmillian would have to prove to them tenfold that she meant what she said, but somehow Caro didn’t think that would be much of a problem for her.

Threstaught’s scowl had reduced to a thoughtful frown. Caro had zero idea whether he would end up being a problem or an asset, but at the very least he no longer said anything disparaging.

“I will—” Carmillian cut herself off at the same time as Caro’s magic pinged. Danger incoming .