1
Aveline Corasande Caelan had only one good memory of the dungeon at Ridine Castle. A kiss. It had been delivered with a blend of trickery and desire, and she’d received it with equal parts yearning and rage. It was a strange first kiss between her and Teryn Alante, but it held a special place in her heart.
It was that special place, that steadying warmth, that allowed Cora to keep her nerves from fraying in that same dungeon now. To anchor herself in this moment without letting her mind drift to all the dark memories this place conjured. Cora hated coming to the dungeon, but at least she wasn’t a prisoner this time. No, this time she was the captor.
She kept her face impassive as she studied the man tied to the chair at the center of the cell. He was an older man with shaggy gray hair and a build that bordered on frail, but Cora wasn’t swayed into sympathy. This man was dangerous.
Captain Alden of Cora’s royal guard stepped closer to the captive, one hand on the hilt of her sword. Alden was already an imposing figure with her towering height and scarred left cheek that spoke of her experience in battle, but the way she scowled down at the prisoner, her face lit by the single lantern resting on the ground, made her look downright terrifying. Her golden hair was pulled back in a tight bun that showed off all the hard angles of her face. “Why were you seeking information about Ridine Castle?” she said, voice low and controlled.
To the prisoner’s credit, he held Captain Alden’s eyes without falter, even though one of his own was nearly swollen shut, and delivered his answer with equal calm. “I was simply doing my job. Every kingdom has its spies. Even yours.”
Cora kept her breaths even, her palms open, seeking the truth beneath the prisoner’s lies. While her abilities were far from infallible, being a clairsentient witch had its uses. Her magic worked through feeling, both physical sensation and emotion alike. She was familiar enough with her internal nudges to know which sensations meant danger and which meant safety, as well as other varying shades in between. Her emotions fueled her magic and had even allowed her to accomplish strange and unusual feats. The most recent of which was her ability to astral travel. Or, as she’d learned the fae called it, worldwalking.
Now her magic was less focused on her own feelings and more on the prisoner’s. Not every clairsentient witch could physically feel the emotions of others, but Cora’s magic had always been like this. It was often a burden that required nearly full-time use of mental shields to block outside emotional stimuli, but in this situation her powers were essential.
With her mental wards down, she let the man’s emotions flood her. They were dark, heavy, clouded with secrets. Arrogance tinged these sensations, reflected in his smug expression, the way he grinned despite his split lip. But there was something else there too: a dash of fear. Cora wondered if it had anything to do with the muscular gaoler who leaned against the cell wall behind the prisoner. His arms were folded over his chest, hands curled into fists—fists that had caused the spy’s current wounds.
Were Cora kinder and softer she’d have felt bad for the old man’s condition. But she was neither kind nor soft where spies from Norun were concerned. Not after the unsettling rumors her own spies had uncovered. According to their intel, the Kingdom of Norun had recently formed an alliance with Syrus—the very kingdom she feared more than any other. For Syrus was home to an enemy she hoped she’d never meet—King Darius Solaria, father of Morkai, seeker of the fae realm. A realm she’d been to, just over seven months ago, and now held valuable secrets about.
Captain Alden spoke again. “Why has Norun taken such an interest in Khero?”
The spy scoffed. “Sudden? I’d hardly call it sudden. Norun isn’t easy to forgive, and your kingdom is responsible for the death of Prince Helios.”
Cora bristled at the accusation. Retorts roared inside her, but she held them back with a tightening of her jaw. She wasn’t here to argue with the prisoner, only to gather information. Still, she was losing patience with Norun’s insistence that Khero was to blame for Helios Dorsus’ death. The prince may have died in her kingdom last spring after being devoured by Morkai’s Roizan, but Cora and her allies had gone to great lengths to refute any association with the former duke and denounce every action he’d taken in the name of Khero. Besides, Helios had hardly been innocent. She’d witnessed his demise firsthand and hadn’t been sorry to see him go. Helios had been in the process of trying to kill Teryn when the Roizan attacked, and before that, he’d intended to carve a unicorn’s horn from its head while it was still alive.
No, Cora felt no remorse where Prince Helios was concerned. She couldn’t even muster a flicker of sympathy for his grieving father, King Isvius of Norun. Yet she wanted none of the blame for what had happened to the prince and resented that she bore all of it. Why Norun was only blaming Khero and not Selay was beyond her. Helios had only come to Khero because of Mareleau’s Heart’s Hunt. Perhaps it was because Khero was the easier target and closer to Norun’s borders. Meanwhile, Selay was no longer justSelay. It was now Vera, a kingdom forged from Selay’s formal merging with Menah. Compared to Vera, Khero was small and vulnerable, without the support of trade allies across the sea and in other continents.
“Does Norun seek retribution on Khero?” Captain Alden asked.
The prisoner shrugged, the move stunted by his bindings. “Like I said, I’m just a spy. I gather specific information and share it with my masters. I’m not privy to Norun’s secrets.”
The man’s emotions contracted inside Cora, tightening like a fist in her gut. They contradicted the nonchalance on the man’s face. “He’s lying,” she said through her teeth. “He knows so much more than he’s saying.”
The captive’s crooked, half-swollen gaze shot toward her. A corner of his bruised mouth flicked up. “Is this by chance the young queen?”
Cora’s breath caught. She stood in shadow near the cell door, the hood of a plain gray cloak pulled low over her forehead, yet the spy had surmised her identity. Had it simply been a reckless guess, or was it obvious?
She was suddenly aware of her poise, the lift of her chin, the way she held her arms easily at her sides. They were habits she’d picked up over the last several months since her coronation. Habits she’d developed as a front, a way to radiate the regality she didn’t feel. Yet she’d come to don them with ease now, slipping into them like a second skin.
Alden angled her body to intercept the prisoner’s stare. “You forget who’s doing the questioning.”
“Ah, I see. You’ll have to forgive me.”
His confidence seeped into Cora, sending chills down her spine. He was the fourth Norunian spy who’d been captured on her lands, yet he was by far the boldest. The others had stayed mute through questioning and had ultimately lost their lives. But how many others might have slipped through the cracks? How many spies were crawling across her kingdom without anyone being the wiser? Cora hardly had enough spies of her own, for Khero was still recovering from all it had lost at Morkai’s hands, and that included military and staff. She’d been queen for just seven months, and every day she felt the weight of how much was left to rebuild.
It all fell on her shoulders.
Alone.
No, not alone, she reminded herself. She had allies. Queen Mareleau. King Larylis. And soon she’d have Teryn beside her, sharing her burden as king consort. Her husband.
She’d been engaged to him since last summer, and she’d nearly wed him too, after her brother had been forced to step down as king. Marrying Teryn had been a condition her council had demanded, a formal alliance they’d required before they’d recognize her as Dimetreus’ heir. Thankfully, she’d escaped the castle before the marriage had been finalized, for if she’d married Teryn then, she’d have wed a false version of him—Morkai possessing Teryn’s body. Not that she’d escaped Morkai’s treachery unscathed. No one had. He’d murdered her brother, his councilmen, and Mareleau’s father. Three kingdoms had been thrown into chaos after a single night’s tragedy.
A tragedy Teryn almost hadn’t survived.
Panic laced through her when she remembered how he’d looked when he’d departed home with his brother to be tended to by their kingdom’s skilled physicians. The kind of physicians her own kingdom lacked. His cheeks had been so gaunt then, his hair fully white. But she reminded herself hewasalive. Alive and well, and soon he’d come home to her.
Soon he’d marry her.
