“Leo told me about the reformatory,” she growled.
I tightened my hold, bracing myself.
“It isn’t a school, is it, Trew? It’s a prison. Leo said they hurt the children who can’t hide their magic. He talked about a room. Many of the children were taken there, and they never came back.”
I knew that. This was why we rescued them. But the rage that ignited my veins was so hot it was a miracle the air around us didn’t sizzle.
She shook her head, and new tears shimmered in her eyes. “‘Please don’t make me go back,’ Leo said. ‘I can’t go to that room.’”
The image of the little boy, terrified and begging not to be hurt made me want to commit murder. If I could burn down the reformatory, I would.
“Never,” I growled near her ear. “I will not let anyone hurt you or them. Do you hear me? Never.”
The trust in her eyes humbled me. “Promise me.”
“I swear on my crown, on my life, on everything I am. You’re safe with me. They’re all safe with me.”
She thanked me then, for stealing them, for saving them. For every child I’d rescued from her monstrous court.
Yet for every child I’d rescued, how many had I missed? How many had been lost to those rooms because I hadn’t been fast enough, strong enough, or ruthless enough to get to them all?
“It’s not your fault,” I whispered into her hair. “You didn’t know.”
“But I should have.” Her voice came out muffled against my chest. “I should’ve questioned it, demanded to see them?—”
“You were lied to by the people you trusted. That’s on them, not you,” I said fiercely, because she needed to believe it, because the alternative was letting her carry a weight that would crush her spirit.
I wouldn’t allow that. Not while I drew breath.
“I want to rip it down,” she snarled. “Every last stone of that cursed system.” She pulled back enough to meet my gaze, her pale blue eyes blazing with fire. “When this is over, we burn it all.”
“Until nothing remains.”
I landed Kyreth back in the aerie as twilight painted the sky in bruises of purple and gray. The dragon let out a low rumble as I slid off her spine and helped Isi down.
Helena strode into the stall, her owl companion a silent, watchful shadow on her shoulder.
“She flew well,” I told her, patting the dragon’s snout. “Give her extra feed.”
“I will, Sire, plus a solid grooming.” Helena’s gaze glided to Isi, and a soft, understanding smile playing on her lips before she left to collect tools and grain.
Quiet filled our walk back to the castle. I held Isi’s hand, our fingers linked. I couldn’t look away from her but kept taking in the way the last rays of sunlight caught the gold in her hair, the way resolve had settled into her spine. Grief still lurked in her eyes, but a fury blazed there as well, one that matched my own.
She was no longer a princess of Caldrith come to infiltrate my court and kill me. She was a queen of Syllavar finding her power.
Myqueen.
Acknowledging this felt like finally sucking in air after holding my breath for sixteen years.
We stepped through the castle’s rear doors and strode through the halls, finally reaching the grand foyer, the marble floors gleaming under the enchanted torchlight. My world, for one perfect, fleeting moment, felt complete.
Until Kira caught my eye and strode toward us, her red hair a slash of color against her dark tunic. Her death adder coiled around her forearm, her blood-red scales drinking in the light, head raised to taste the air.
Kira’s gaze locked on my hand linked with Isi’s, and a muscle in her jaw jumped.
“If you have a moment, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice as tight as strung wire. “It’s quite urgent.” Her eyes darted between Isi and me, and I saw the exact moment she realized what had changed, thatIsi wasn’t just a warrior I was toying with. That this woman at my side wasn’t going anywhere.
“Speak,” I said.
