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We spend a heartbeat in silence as the horror of her revelation sinks in.

Finally, I find my voice, though it’s barely more than a whisper. “The queen killed her own sister? Over a rule?”

“Yes,” Rhaya says, staring out at the river. “We’re tired of the old ways, Aella. Not just the laws that keep us from leaving, but the traditions that are slowly killing us. The rules that banish those who don’t emerge. The punishments that keep us in line. All of it.”

My heart aches for them. Moments ago, I’d been marveling at how free they seemed. But that freedom is an illusion. We’re all trapped in some way—whether by chains we can see or those we carry within us. It doesn’t matter if we’re from the sun-drenched shores of the Sorrows or hidden away in these northern mountains. The cages may look different, but we’re all locked in them the same.

“Then why doesn’t Lyxander challenge her? He could take the throne and start bringing about the changes you want.”

“That is a question only he can answer. But I am wondering if it’s because he’s found another way.” Rhaya’s gaze shifts from the icy river and lands on me.

Cold slips under my collar and I stumble to a halt. Lyxander had said his kin may piece together my lineage on their own, and I was expecting it at some point. But not like this.

She tilts her head, studying my face. “You are Queen Nephelle’s daughter, aren’t you?”

I take a steadying breath and release it slowly. “I am. But I didn’t come here to claim anything. Lyxander and I made a bargain that I would help him get home and he’d help me control my theïkós. I just wasn’t expecting his home to be”—I gesture at the city around us—“this.”

She nods slowly, her gaze softening. “And this isn’t something you want?”

My brow furrows as I consider the question.

I promised myself I’d master my theïkós and go back for Nyssa; the vow beats under my skin. And yet some selfish part of me does want to stay, at least long enough to learn why the wind feels different here—and why I do. It feels like disloyalty to admit it. It also feels like truth.

But if my wings don’t emerge by Aethernight, then none of that will matter in the end.

“I don’t know,” I say finally. “And I don’t think I have the time to figure it out.”

Chapter 32

Aella

Moonlight spills through the tower’s narrow windows, casting pale streaks across the stone floor as I slip into the kitchen and head for the ice locker in the far corner.

I’m careful not to make a sound as I grasp the iron handle and pull it open. I’m rifling through its contents, my fingers brushing past jars and bundles as I search for the meat. But just as I find it, a warm glow blooms behind me.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

I whirl around, the meat clutched in my hands.

Kato is perched on the center table, one leg dangling lazily while the other props him up. A small oil lamp sits beside him, its flame flickering softly. His expression is one of mock severity, but the corners of his mouth twitch.

“Kato,” I say. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I could say the same about you. Though, judging by the evidence”—he nods toward the meat in my hands—“I’d say I’ve caught my thief.”

“I have a perfectly good ex—”

A scratch rends the air.

Kato’s brow furrows, his curiosity sharpening.

“What was that?” he asks.

I bite my lip to hold back the grin that wants to break free. “It’s easier if I show you.”

I cross the room and unlatch the door. The cold night air rushes in, and before I can step aside, the leonai barges through, its sleek white form a blur as it snuffles eagerly at the meat in my hands.

Kato lets out a strangled yelp and scrambles onto the table, his wings flaring as he stares at the creature in wide-eyed disbelief. “What in the name of Boreas’s balls is that?”