“And you don’t want that,” Marb adds ominously from near the curtains. “Being first to select a day is an honor, Fireling. His favor will serve you well in the coming Trials.”
The room sways—or maybe I do.
First choice. Supposedly, it’s a reward, but it feels more like a gilded collar.
Choose, and I play his game. Refuse, and I hand him power.
I close my eyes, remembering the library. The weight of his presence. The way he looked at me like I already belonged to him.
No. I need space. Distance.
But I also need to be smart.
“You said the King chooses who he wants on Sunday?” I ask.
Mariel nods. “Every week.”
I inhale slowly. “Then we need to go see Vivian. Now.”
The east wing is quieter than the rest of the keep, its hallways drowsy with late-morning light and the perfume of ivy winding through cracked stone windows. Even Marb falls silent as we near a narrow door tucked between two columns overgrown with moss.
Mae is standing watch outside like a shadow in human form, her arms crossed. Her usually sharp presence has softened, but only just. “She’s awake,” she says before we can ask, “but still weak, so don’t stay long.”
“We won’t,” Mariel promises.
Mae steps aside, and Cassy opens the door to find Vivian lying propped against a nest of pillows, her golden hair damp and tangled against her pale cheeks. Her pale eyes flick over to us as we enter, and something flickers in her expression—relief, maybe, or disbelief.
“Hello,” she rasps.
I limp to the edge of her bed, ignoring the lightning bolt that is my ankle. Only when I reach her side do I feel like I can finally breathe. “You’re awake.”
“Unfortunately.” She tries to smile, but it twists into a grimace.
Cassy brings over her tray of breakfast and a carefully balanced glass of water. She sets it down on the bedside table and begins unwrapping a small, delicate dessert plate.
“We brought something,” she says. “Your favorite.”
Vivian stares at the slice of carrot cake for a moment. Her voice softens as she leans back and closes her eyes. “You remembered.”
“Of course I did.” Cassy sets the plate beside her. “Marb even made you a potion.”
“I call it ‘comfort in a cup,’” Marb declares with great pride, hovering overhead like an oversized butterfly. “One drop will ease the pain. Two, and you’ll dream of falling in love.”
Vivian huffs a weak laugh. “I’ll take the former, thanks.”
I reach for her hand. It’s cold. She squeezes my fingers weakly.
“What happened in there?” I ask softly. “Do you remember anything?”
Her eyes open again, but her gaze shifts to the far wall, avoiding mine. “Not much. Cold. Shadows. Something dragging me under. I screamed… and then you guided us through.” Her voice wavers. “You saved me. Saved all of us. Thank you.”
“You would’ve done the same,” I say.
Her eyes sharpen, deadly serious. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
The silence stretches between us. A breeze moves the curtains, but the castle feels far away from us now, like we’ve stepped outside time.
“What happens now?” Vivian whispers. “The fairies won’t tell me anything.”
