I stare at it for a long time, then return to mine, waiting for joy to blossom. For me to feel something over having finally, finally read my own name in this book. But my heart is a cold, drab room, absent any life, and eventually, I snap the book shut and lever myself up, then wander away, leaving it on the floor.
Outside, someone hurries through the hallway, nearly knocking me over. “Watch it,” the woman snaps. “You’re in my?—”
Her voice dies the moment I turn. She sinks back, her gaze falling to the floor. “Princess, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
Princess. I flinch, but she doesn’t seem to notice, just barrels onward.
“I was just on my way to the throne room, and…forgive me. I shouldn’t have run into you like that.”
“The throne room?” I frown. “Why were you going to the throne room?”
“The fae,” she says.
My stomach bottoms out. “Thefae?”
“Yes.” She nods hurriedly, as if that explains anything.
“What about them?” My voice is tight, my fingers clenched at my sides.
“Well, they’re here. Arrived just a few minutes ago. A whole cohort, and they’ve brought back your sister, and I heard they’re making some kind of appeal to the king, and?—”
I don’t hear the rest. I’m already turning away, breaking into a sprint. The fae. Here. In my father’s throne room.
That’s all I need to know.
The hall’s windows stream past, a blur of light and shadow, of drab stone and dusty glass. I streak past it all, then I’m bursting through the doors to the outside, sprinting through the garden and back into the castle through the east wing, then down the hall.
The throne room doors loom ahead. I pelt toward them, my breath coming in jagged spurts, my heart beating loud enough to fill the entire hall.
I don’t know why I’m so desperate. I’ll burst into the throne room and catch Calen and Ravenna’s gaze, see the pity there, and know with certainty that Amriel is dead, that I’ll never hear his voice again.
And then I’ll break completely.
And yet something is drawing me, pulling me toward those doors, a force that has me flying. I’m a lightning strike zipping toward the mountain top. A river seeking the sea.
I’m inevitable and unstoppable and…goddess help me, I’ve only felt this way once before, in the presence of one man. Or two, really. Two different versions of him.
I reach the doors at full speed, careening too quickly to stop, but I barely feel the impact of my body against solid wood. I’m already recovering, my hands closing around the handles, my shoulders burning as the tall doors fly open.
Beyond lies darkness and torchlight, the buzz of too many people.
But I don’t hesitate. I have to know.
I fling the doors wide and hurtle inside.
Chapter 30
Excited chatter bombards my ears, the hubbub of dozens of people in a too-tight space. Shadows pile in the corners while torchlight illuminates a sea of Aethrolian gray.
The air in my lungs deserts me. I crane for a glimpse of the fae, but people cluster around the dais—too many of them, blocking my view. “Move,” I shout.
It’s the opposite of proper, but to my surprise, people obey. Someone catches sight of my expression and tugs at his neighbor’s sleeve, and soon everyone is turning to look, the crowd shifting at my command.
Maybe because I’m desperate, or maybe because I’m Graced, now.
Who knows. Who cares.
The crowd parts. I take a single step, my pulse throbbing in my throat, tingles rushing into my fingertips. Because…
