Had she cursed Riyan hoping she could raise him to be her perfect weapon? Once Daigen had rescued Astrid from the well, did Ganora plan for Riyan to come back? Did she send her giants to destroy the North, hoping to lure him to her?
Was Ganora lying in wait all this time to take full control of Riyan and use him to free her sister?
Maybe the curse was never a punishment for Astrid, but for the Hytons. No better revenge against the royal House who made a “bad deal” with her sister than to turn one of their sons into a weapon against them.
I scrubbed my face with my hand. Just as I was thinking up a way to ask Daigen all my burning questions without actuallyaskinghim, the sight of Astrid’s sparkling eyes stole my attention.
I turned my head to follow her eyes to the wall above me.
Of all the finger-painted portraits tacked onto the wall, the newest one was right above me. Astrid had painted it days ago—a man with blue eyes and long blonde hair.
Hilda had thought the man in the portrait was Riyan and so did I, but the hair was too long to be Riyan’s…
It was Ragnar. Astrid had painted the father of her child the way she remembered him.
I swallowed and turned from the painting to look at Daigen. “He never came back.”
Daigen laid his hand on Astrid’s shoulder. “She doesn’t know that. Her last memory of him is that promise.”
The questions I wished I could ask hung in the air like a dense fog. Why had Ragnar never returned? Why had he been with Astrid in the first place?
The Hytons kept their vast number of secrets close enough to bury themselves in mystery. How could they be the most prominent family in the Dukedom and yet no one had figured out that their General had a secret son? Or that they held the Great Sorceress captive?
How could I force Duke Hyton to release Fraleigh if I did not even know what I was up against?
Evereon groaned as his body shifted on the floor, interrupting my thoughts.
Daigen looked down. “Oh look, the cranky puppy is awake.”
Evereon’s eyes were glazed as he pushed himself into a sitting position. I crossed the room to help him up. Endre soared past me, likely having the same idea.
Evereon’s yellow eyes widened and he swatted at my brother. “Get away from me!”
Endre turned in the air and landed on a stool. He lowered his head and let out an indignant croak.
Evereon begrudgingly took my hand as I helped pull him onto his feet.
Daigen smirked at Evereon and gestured to Endre. “Is that how you treat a fellow Baron’s son?”
Evereon’s face blanched and his body went stiff. My mouth fell open. How could Daigen just—?
Daigen’s violet eyes flicked over to me. “I took a secret from him, so I figured I’d give him one. It was only fair.”
His hand dipped beneath his cloak and he retrieved a thick ivory envelope. My heart stopped as soon as I saw the bull stamped in the shining blue wax seal.
Daigen deftly flipped the letter over and turned his attention to Evereon. “Thought you could just hide this in your doublet and I wouldn’t sense the stink of Hyton Palace on you?”
I did not even wait for Evereon to offer an explanation, my vision and mind focused only on my name on the front of the envelope. I knew that handwriting as intimately as if it had been marked onto my very skin—tall letters that crowded together, romantic curves and loops, and all inked into the parchment so strongly it might as well have been branded.
My heart raced and I suddenly could not breathe. Whatever was in that envelope came from Derrick.
Just like when he visited Ravenwood Manor seven years ago, the House of Hyton’s only heir became the key to my cage of circumstance.
I only hoped he was the key to Fraleigh’s cage too.
Rays of the setting sun weaved through the clouds. I rested on my forearms between two battlements on the southernmost tower of Bloodstone Fortress. Erik and Endre perched on the battlements on either side of me.
I had spent an hour convincing Evereon the lost Ravenwood sons were alive and not just some magical trick from the mountain. Afterward, we crashed on the chairs in Astrid’s room, gently exchanging pieces of information and hoping to make sense of all that had happened over the past few days. He told me Nikkolas and Hilda had been laid to rest by their sons. I told him the truth of Riyan’s parentage.
