“Didn’t you hear what Severine said?” Oleander ran her finger along a beveled groove. “I have found their place, but they cannot stay. Without an Ordeal, the Relics are probably useless.”
“Or they’re linked to these Oubliettes,” Lullaby argued, “and their magic is stronger here.”
The amulet had never done more than glow hot against my chest. But what if Lullaby was right—what if the Relic could interact with this impossible place, this secret arena of royal succession? A flush of anticipation burned my veins. I lifted the chain and set the ambric gem gently into the slot.
I waited for a few moments, but nothing happened. I released a disappointed breath and reached for the Relic. Lullaby caught me by the wrist.
“Wait!” The set of her mouth was urgent. Beside me, Oleander turned her head high on her elegant neck, as though scenting the air. I heard a distant sigh a moment later—a breeze through bare branches, or the prelude to a lover’s touch. It grew louder and closer, gathering force as it came, and fear broke out in pinpricks across my skin. I braced myself, reaching for Lullaby’s hand—
A gale roared into the chamber. I shielded my face, particles of dust biting into my arm like glass. The wind on my skin felt like the dusk at the edge of Dominion—dark as wine and thick as regret. I turned away, but the air swirled around my face and I smelled the sharp tang of winter—genévrier and frost, ice wine and chilly lips. Sensation thundered down on me—the memories of everything I’d ever desired.
Jewel-bright dreams and bitter-black power.
Hot kisses and cold promises.
Glow-dark thrones and diamond-hard death.
At last, the wind shifted away, leaving me gasping. An ache pounded in my chest—something between sorrow and denial. I opened my eyes to see Lullaby sitting up from where she’d lain on the floor; Oleander stared statuesque into the middle distance.
“I saw the ocean,” Lullaby whispered, wistfulness turning her eyes to sea glass. “Or—I didn’t so much see it asfeelit, like a kind of sense memory, or …”
“We have been shown our hearts.” Tears glittered in Oleander’s eyes, bright as the diamonds in her hair.
“A prelude,” I agreed. “A warning from the Heart Relic.”
“Or, perhaps, a promise.” Oleander leveled a lingering glance at Lullaby’s shining face. “Although I hope neither of you will begrudge my innermost desires staying a secret.”
She stepped to the dais, wedged the Relic out of its slot, and tossed me the pendant.
“Now, does anyone have any objections to getting out of this place? I think I need to wash my hair.”
Lullaby trailed Oleander out of the Sun Heir arena. I followed a few steps behind, wondering at the sunburst ambric jewel nestled in my palm. I had always thought it next to useless, even after Sunder told me it was a Relic. But now I thought of how close I’d worn it to my chest—all the times I’d squeezed it between nervous hands—every wish, hope, and prayer I’d rained upon it.
TheHeartRelic.
And I suddenly knew—this amulet had brought me home. This Relic had mined my heart for everything I’d ever wanted and used that metal to pave a road toward an impossible world. A world both more beautiful and more monstrous than the one I’d been raised in. A world whereI belonged.
I swallowed those old words, that ancient desire. I hung the Relic back around my neck.
And as we crept through the winding passageways of a château forgotten by anyone but my ancient, bloodthirsty ancestors, I swore I saw their ghosts pass by. Antique armor and flowing tunics—a pastiche from a different era. A quartet of young men laughing in the halls, wine-drunk to hide their fear, but with eyes that spoke of grave intent. Boys screaming with agony, girls laughing with victory. And finally, I sawher. A slender maiden no older than me, with auburn hair and violet eyes. Her face was soft with concern and hard with determination—a sheer hint of madness at the edge of resolve.
It was the face of a girl who would sacrifice a thousand tides of tradition to save a brother she loved. Even if that meant murdering countless illegitimate half siblings.
After all, she had never met them. They were nothing but rivals—future enemies in a game not yet played. And he—he was herheart.
The moment we snuck back out of the dungeons, Lullaby and Oleander dispersed to their chambers to bathe and change. But my Sabourin blood pulsed a restless rhythm in my veins, and I couldn’t bring myself to sink into perfumed waters, dress in a gown I’d bought with money I hadn’t earned, and sit patiently in the Congrès while my advisors talked over my head about matters they believed I would never understand.
So I went to the only place where I could think, these days—Severine’s chambers. And for the first time since I’d come to the palais, when I walked down the smooth hallway toward her rooms—curving like the inside of a shell—I didn’t feel as though I was being lured into the lair of a monster, but like I was entering a sanctum.
A creeping sense of calm descended over me. The stillness rang like the moment after an echo fades—luminous with all the things I couldn’t hear. I released my Relic and laid my palm gently on her slender throat, wrapping each of my fingers around her neck. Her skin was cool to the touch, and her pulse fluttered like the wings of an injured bird. And yet there was an unyielding quality to her form, as though she had been carved from something rarer than marble and stronger than dristic.
I squeezed, my hand tightening like a vise. Then I stepped away, my arm falling to my side.
“Who were you?” I asked her still, frail form. “Why did you do all the things you did?”
I imagined her bell-bright laugh pealing off the walls, her voice sliding silky into my head.
If you’d wanted to know that, little sister, you shouldn’t have killed me.
