The lake is gone.
The light is gone.
The first step into the void brings a plunging darkness, like plummeting into ice water. The next step brings me to solid ground—stone. Darkness and warmth spread out around me, vague and indiscernible, like waking up from a dream. Then, all at once, my surroundings snap into focus, and I know precisely where I am.
Terror stabs through my heart. I’mbackin the Great Hall. On the dais, where the queen was sitting right before they took Fergustan’s head.
Seated on the throne is King Rodrick.
I can place him without knowing him. The cruelty on his face is unmistakable. I’ve never seen a person like this—someone who wears an evil aura around them like a cloak. There’s no mercy in those darting eyes, no paternal love. He’s looking down at Finn, who looks different since I saw him last. He is wearing the same outfit I found him in after fighting the Moragorion. The one I repaired by firelight with my mother’s sewing kit. He wears his sword on his hip, and he still has the travel pack I gave him slung over a shoulder. It swings as he argues animatedly with his father.
I stand still, waiting for Finn to take notice of me just a hairbreadth away from his father’s throne. But he is oblivious, almost shouting in his tirade. It appears I am only an observer in this world.
As the shock settles, I finally start listening. And I realize I’m not in the present at all—I’m watching Finn on the day he returned from the Ironwoods.
“She’s not a warrior,” Finn says. “She’s not a killer. Father, I’m telling you, she could barely put her shoes on the right feet.”
“It’s a risk,” King Rodrick counters. “I can believe she won you over, but that doesn’t mean she won’t be a liability.”
“But imagine if itworks,” Finn argues. “Imagine the symbol she’d become. We won’t have a hard time controlling her. As far as I could tell, Melia barely lets her leave the house, like an eighteen-year-old toddler. She’ll be so dazzled by court that she’ll fall down and worship us. I guarantee it.”
“And what makes you so sure?”
Finn laughs. “If there’s one thing I can do, it’s manipulate women.”
King Rodrick frowns. “If her magic is what you say it is, how do you expect to keep that under control?”
“She’s insecure,” Finn says simply. “I’ve never met someone so grotesquely starved for affection. A little honey, a little praise, and she’ll be eating out of our hands. I’m telling you—she hasn’t got a clue about the insurrection. If we can’t get Melia to finish the omnidraught, her daughter is the next best thing.”
The king drums his fingers against his throne. “And how do you propose we persuade this girl to help us? Ask her nicely?”
“Yes.” Finn shrugs. “She’s got a good heart. Leverage that softness against her. Coercion didn’t work with Ragglestaff, anyway.”
“And you’re willing to take the responsibility? You’ll manage it?”
“Yes. I’ll handle it,” Finn says dismissively. “Once we get her out of the Ironwoods, she won’t know where to run. And if she becomes a problem, I’ll kill her myself.”
I’ve stopped breathing. I’m no longer sure that what I’m seeing is real. It can’t be. This monster speaking so cruelly can’t be the prince I have fallen in love with. It must be some illusion—another trick of magic.
I don’t want to watch any more, but I can’t stop the nightmare from continuing. The king considers. “It would be simpler to kill her now.”
Finn frowns, and there is a flash of distress on his features, but it is gone as quickly as it appeared.
“I will respect your decision either way, Father,” Finn says, slowly and carefully—each word deliberate. “But it is my heartfelt opinion that killing her now would be a tremendous mistake. She fell straight into our laps. We won’t get another chance like this.”
King Rodrick rubs a hand over his chin, hauling in a deep breath. “Fine. I’ll agree to it.”
Finn looks elated.
“Under one condition,” Rodrick amends.
“Yes?”
“I don’t want you handling her.”
“But I’m the one—”
“You are already too close to this,” King Rodrick says firmly. “And frankly, I don’t trust you in any scenario with a skirt. As you’ve said, Sulnik’s hanging by a thread. You need to think about the optics of moving her into the castle. How would Sandria respond?”
