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She folded one leg beneath her.

“You are trapped in Morrath with no magic, surrounded by creatures capable of killing you before breakfast.”

“I had noticed.” In truth, I had not noticed. I had heard Morrath had creatures but had seen nothing yet beyond the walls of this room that I was coming to detest.

A smile tugged at her mouth.

“The creatures are manageable. Teorin Rathmor concerns me more.”

“You’ve known him for all of five minutes.”

“I’ve known his type much longer.”

She leaned forward.

“He’s obsessed with you, and it will only get worse from here. He nearly lost you once. Now he’ll convince himself that controlling every step you take is the only way to keep it from happening again.”

I said nothing, because part of me knew it was true. I did not understand why he was obsessed with me or how it could be possible given the lies he had told, only that the numb feeling from earlier was all too familiar.

“My brother intends to reach you,” she continued. “Whether he finds a cure for…whatever happened to you remains to be seen.”

“And?” I didn’t try to mask the irritation in my tone.

“You are impatient.”

“I am tired. There is a difference.”

She smiled again.

“I require something from Morrath’s Vault.”

“The Vault?”

“A family heirloom.”

“What sort of heirloom?”

“The sort worth lying, stealing, and seducing for.”

I stared at her.

“You are serious.”

“Painfully.”

She sighed.

“Teorin agreed to let me stay here in the palace if I awakened you.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“No,” she said. “You don’t.”

She tipped her head back, studying the ceiling.

“Reaching the vault requires accessing the Vaultline. It requires information on access points and enough strength to open the vault itself. It is warded by powerful magic.”

I almost tell her that I don’t care, but I decide to remain silent.