I fell onto a nearby couch, my wobbly legs unable to hold my weight for a second more. “It cannot be.”
Caspian sank next to me and reached for my hand. “I tried to speak to your uncle earlier. He did not seem, er, like you said, well... well.”
I shook my head. How did I even begin to explain?
“And Queen Ravanna? How... was your time in Blackthorne?” His tone had turned toward conspiring. So many mysteries were at play that I wasn’t sure where to start at first.
“Why do you ask?”
“There are rumors, Tessana. Rumors that she might be behind the Ring of Shadows.”
I immediately wanted to deny his claims. I knew too well that it was easy to assume Ravanna was evil. But in my most recent experience, she wanted what I wanted for Elysia—peace and magic. Nothing so sinister as war. “No, I was with her. She did not... how could she have... there was no sign of a Heprin invasion. She did not seem to know of it herself.”
“Carrigan sent me a message yesterday before the news of Heprin arrived. She’s asked Vorestra to align with Blackthorne. She did not mention Heprin, but she made it clear he had to pick a side.”
Pick a side? Pick a side for what?“What did he do?”
Caspian’s mouth twisted into a grim frown. “He has not answered her yet. He wrote to me instead, encouraged me to propose.”
“To what?”
“From my calculation, Elysia can count on support from Soravale, Tenovia if they still stand and whatever is left of Heprin—although it will not be much. And possibly Barstus, depending on their affection for your sister. Blackthorne has already aligned with Aramore and Kasha. A marriage to me would secure Vorestra for you. But if there is no reason for my brother to... he is an opportunistic man, much like my father. Give him a reason to join you, Tessana. One that is better than what Ravanna has already offered.”
What had Ravanna offered? When had she done any of this? Was this, in fact, truth? Or a plan of Caspian’s to trick me into a betrothal? “I—how can you ask me this now? When I have lost my home and the Brotherhood? When my uncle falls into madness. When my kingdom and the realm are only just on the brink of war?”
“I know you want a marriage of love, and maybe it can be that someday. But there are more important things than your happiness right now, Tessana. I’m trying to convince you to win this war before it begins.”
He was right. If Vorestra joined Blackthorne, we would be too evenly matched to avoid fighting. But if Vorestra sided with the Seat of Power, there would be no reason to meet on the battlefield. The victory would be fully mine.
But still, marriage? Surely, there was time to negotiate. We didn’t even know if Ravanna was behind this yet.
None of this mattered anyway. I still wasn’t coronated. And it would be years before the Crown truly became mine. Coronation was merely a promise of future power, not the actuality of it.
Tyrn was who Caspian had to convince. And maybe Tyrn would see the advantage in an alliance with Vorestra or maybe not. He was not exactly at his best right now.
The door swung open, and my uncle teetered in unsteadily, much like he had in Blackthorne in Ravanna’s library. My muscles and heart and soul seized up at the sight of him and the sickness that seemed to have stolen all reason and health from him in such a short time.
“We cannot wait,” he slurred loudly, sounding drunk and off balance. “It must happen now, Tessana.” For a second, I feared he meant Caspian’s proposal, the marriage. But then over his shoulder, he shouted, “Bring the damnable Crown in here at once!”
“The crown? Uncle, what is this?”
He met my gaze, and his eyes temporarily cleared of the madness that seemed to have such a hold on him. “We must make it official. Before it’s too late.”
“Before what’s too late?”
“Heprin has fallen, niece.” He said the words as if I wasn’t the one to have told him. “It is only a matter of time before she comes knocking on our door. The Crown must sit on top of your pretty head, or she will rip it away from you and take your head with her as a prize.”
“You mean your sister? Ravanna?”
“I was just a boy,” he began to murmur, losing the light of sanity. “I was just a boy, but I was foolish. I never should have let her use me. Gwynnie knew better. She tried to stop her. And me. And all of it. But even she was deceived in the end.” He sank to his knees suddenly, throwing his head into his hands and weeping. “I’m so sorry, dear sister. I’m so sorry!” He knelt there in front of us, keening and sobbing.
Caspian slid forward till he was also down on one knee, bowed his head, and put a comforting hand on Tyrn’s shoulder. I was so surprised by his gesture of kindness that I forgot to move to my uncle’s side. Instead, I sat there watching, wondering. Was this the man I knew Caspian to be?
“Uncle, how do you know it was your sister?” I asked when he settled some, calmed by Caspian’s silent comfort.
Tyrn put a hand on Caspian’s forearm and used it to push himself up to stand. Caspian returned to his seat by me, taking my hand in his once more. I couldn’t help but glance over at him. Grief, pain, trauma... they were all hard things I’d experienced myself. But I hardly knew what to do when someone else felt them. I paced. I stared. I wrung my hands. I even asked practical questions in an effort to push those in pain beyond the worst of it.
I did nothing that Caspian did. Yet he intuitively knew how to do so much more than I ever had.
