She’d once laid in her own bath, fearful of letting him in. But just hours before this moment, they had sunk beneath the water together. Fully naked. Fully known.
She stood before her copper mirror, wove her hair into a braid. A leather strap hung from her wrist—it had once held Viktor’s hair. Tonight, it would bind hers.
She tore off her silken robe, snatched a pair of leggings from a wooden chest. Her gown went next, falling in a heap. Shetouched a bruise above her breast—and smiled. Little love mark from the night before.
In the bottom of the chest was a newly bound leather cuirass.She cinched it over a deep plum tunic, leaving the laces loose in the back. She’d find someone to tie those for her.
But not now.
Not while they could still catch Viktor.
She was nearly ready when she started to close the chest—but stopped.
The glint of metal.
A sharp, lithe dagger.
She reached inside and grabbed it.
Her father had given it to her the day he left her in Rhidian. Made her swear to keep it hidden. She’d brought it to Fyreglade years ago and forgotten to take it when she left.
Tonight, it demanded to be at her side.
She slid it into its sheath and hooked it against her belt.
The Queen of Casqadia was ready.
To ride into utter darkness.
But first—
she had to tell her father.
Amerei left her room, marched to Storne’s door.
Inside, he wrote by candlelight. Messages of urgency. Orders of war.
She closed the door.
“Viktor’s gone,” she said at once.
Storne set down his pen, dragged his hand through his hair.
“I know, darling. He’ll be back. He’s my officer of the northern front. He won’t—"
He looked up. Crossed his arms. Frowned.
“What in the storm do you think you’re doing?”
Amerei stepped into the candlelight. Head raised. Voice proud.
“Captain Feindoran is going after him. And I’m going with him.”
Storne growled a laugh.
“You’re not leaving this estate, Amerei.”
He picked up his pen once more.
