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The Queen of Efaelen’s voice was steady, but for the first time that Lorelei could remember, her green eyes shone with tears. “I’ll send my best guards with you to ensure that you will never be harmed by that man again. And remember: you are worth a thousand of him and his grasping nephews. You stand for all of us from now on. You even stand for Sylvana Herself! With Her blessing, you will claim your place and your throne with your head held high, and you will never apologize for who you are, no matter what any mortal fools may say.”

Lorelei was too desperate to care about the pain as she scraped the frantic question through her throat. “Won’t you come, too?”

“Oh, my darling.” Her mother shook her head in a slow, heavy movement of defeat. “I am bound by that contract, too … and I had to make my own sacrifices for this great chance. The mortal realm has not allowed my presence since the moment of your birth.”

Everything hurt. Everything was wrong. “I don’t want to go anywhere,” Lorelei whispered.

“I’m afraid,” said her mother, “it is time for you to learn that, as queens, we do what we must, not what we would prefer.”

Lorelei burst into tears and buried her face in her mother’s soft chest, surrounded by the fierce care of her mother’s attendants, in the last safe display of anguish she would be granted for many perilous years to come …

And came awake, panting, back on her own sofa, a grown woman with her mother’s reminder still ringing in her ears:

“We do what we must, not what we would prefer.”

Opening her eyes, Lorelei gazed sightlessly up at the green covering of ivy she’d built for this moment of privacy and accepted the unpalatable truth.

She was, as her mother had promised, a queen. She was blessed by the goddess Sylvana with a divine mission, for the sake of everyone and everything she loved.

So she would have to set aside all of her misfiring instincts and kill the Golden Beacon without a moment of hesitation if she failed in this challenge.

4

The ropes of flowers were, as Gerard had already surmised, unbreakable. Fortunately, his success at warfare had never relied upon brute force, and he’d been practicing calisthenics for decades.

He’d had to find his way out of more than one set of knotted ropes at the military academy … and not only as teacher-sanctioned training exercises.

It took nearly an hour of patient work, but he finally managed to wriggle his second wrist free of its scented binding, shift with painstaking care underneath the chains that had secured his chest, and contort himself upwards into a seated position on the bed.

An instant later, a door appeared in what had, until then, been an unbroken stretch of wall directly in front of him. Gerard stiffened, every sense flashing vividly alert. The door opened to reveal a tall figure with a silver platter in her arms … and he let out a silent breath.

It wasn’t Lorelei after all.

The feeling within him was, of course, not disappointment. It was only the natural sensation of emotional letdown that occurred whenever an anticipated battle was postponed. Still, he could hardly pretend that he was safe now—especially as he recognized the woman walking into his chamber. “Lady Katrin, is it not?” He couldn’t bow from his awkwardly restricted position, ankles still fastened against the corners of the bed, but he gave her a respectful nod, as befit the Queen of Balravia’s most favored cousin.

He’d never before seen a sword hanging from her belt, but the sight did not surprise him now. Whenever he had witnessed her attending Lorelei in public, she’d moved behind the queen with unmistakably predatory grace, her green gaze sweeping the crowd with unceasing vigilance.

That gaze landed on him now, seated atop the soft chains he’d escaped, and her lips quirked. “You just won me a bottle of fae wine from Ilse.” Striding across the room, she set the silver tray between his feet, just close enough for him to lean forward and take it if he stretched—but far enough that he couldn’t grasp her arms as she set it down.

Gerard left it untouched as he regarded her steadily. “I am honored that you’re serving me yourself, my lady … but may I ask whether there is anything I should be aware of before I consume the food here?”

“What, because of the old stories?” She snorted. “Trust me. If any mortals ever grew so addicted to fae food that they couldn’t stomach what they found at home afterwards, it was because, unlike some people on this continent, we believe in flavor. There’s nothing magical about it.”

“I see.” That was clear enough—and full-blooded fae like Lorelei’s cousin could not utter lies. He stretched forward to pull the tray closer. “I”—the phrase thank you was forbidden among them, was it not?—“appreciate both the reassurance and the education.”

The fragrances drifting upwards from the tray were enticing, especially as compared to the plain rations he’d shared with his troops over the past few days of marching. As he breathed them in, his stomach made it known exactly how long it had been since he had eaten even that dried meat and tasteless porridge.

Lush noodles in a creamy, garlicky sauce were interlaced with delicate mushrooms and a few savory herbs he recognized, along with vivid green-and-red leaves that were unfamiliar. Taking a bite, he closed his eyes for a moment of true appreciation.

When he opened them, he found the queen’s bodyguard watching him with a wary crease between her dark brown eyebrows. “Shouldn’t you be trying to bribe or threaten me to gain your release?”

“Would there be any purpose in that attempt?” Gerard asked mildly. “From what I understand, you’ve been attending your queen for at least a decade and a half. If you’d had any interest in betraying her, I imagine you would have had more than enough opportunity when she first fought to claim her throne.”

Lady Katrin might have been known under a masculine name, figure, and title when she’d first arrived at the Balravian court fifteen years ago, but it was common knowledge that fae could change their appearances with ease—and her familial relationship with the queen had been warmly acknowledged in both male and female forms.

“Most people would have guessed less than a decade,” Lady Katrin said thoughtfully. “You’ve been thorough in your research.”

He scooped up a second bite, twirling the pasta around the tines of his elaborately ornamented fork with care. “It seemed sensible, under the circumstances.”