My mouth fell open. “You swallow them whole?”

“Sometimes. I prefer to grind them up into powder and drink them. I feel the effects much more rapidly that way. Surely you understand.”

I nearly laughed. “No, Your Highness. We don’t eat the pearls.” I remembered the broth Nemea had made for Zadie, but I knew that was a rare occurrence. I’d never seen it before in my seventeen years of life.

He pursed his lips. “Please, my dear, be honest. It’s all right to confess. I won’t punish your people for it.”

“Punish us for what?”

“For eating some of the pearls yourself.”

I blinked, incredulous. “I assure you, no one in Varenia can afford to keep the pearls for themselves, and certainly not to eat.”

“Is that so? Then how do you explain why the Varenians live for over a century, whereas my father is dying at forty?” There was a sharp edge to his voice, the kind that meant I was treading in dangerous territory.

“I’m afraid I can’t explain it. Perhaps it’s the lack of sunlight that causes it. The mountain—”

“The mountain is none of your concern.”

I recoiled at the growl in his voice. “Of course not. I’m sorry.”

He had turned away from me, back toward the portrait of his mother.

“Queen Talia was the one who introduced me to the pearls, you know,” he mused. “She told me about their healing powers. She said the village doctor sometimes used them in creams when people were gravely injured.”

It was hard to say how much of Zadie’s fast healing had been due to the fact that all Varenians healed quickly and how much was the result of Nemea’s ointment.

“Yes, I’ve heard of that being done,” I told him, trying to sound nonchalant.

Ceren continued to gaze up at the portrait.

“Queen Talia was always trying to help people. She often took me into the sun because it was supposed to be good for me. All it did was burn my skin.”

It had likely been an innocent mistake. Exposure to sunlight did make people healthier, I was sure of it. But for someone as pale as Ceren, I imagined direct sunlight could bring on a nasty burn quickly. “That must have been painful.”

He took a seat on a settee and gestured for me to join him. “It was. But I couldn’t deny that the pearls made me feel stronger. And when I am injured or unwell, I take several pearls and feel better almost instantly.”

“Does the king use them, as well?”

His eyes darted to mine. “No. I’m sorry to say they didn’t have any effect on him.”

Had the king even tried them, or was Ceren keeping all the pearls to himself? Clearly it wasn’t the king who was lowering the value of the pearls. It was Ceren, and he was doing it to make himself stronger. If he ate one every day...that was nearly four hundred pearls a year, roughly eight times what my family had gathered last year, when the oysters had been particularly scarce. And those were just the ones he was consuming. I thought of the bowlful in his lab, of the creams and ointments he’d probably made, not to mention the rest of the market’s demand. Once he started using his devices, the pearls would be gone within months.

Things here were so much worse than Sami and I could have ever imagined. And it might already be too late to turn back the tide that Ceren had set in motion.

“I heard you spoke with Lady Melina,” he said, tearing my thoughts away from the pearls.

He has spies everywhere. “I did, briefly, in the library.”

He clucked his tongue. “A future queen shouldn’t associate with her kind. If it were up to me, I’d have been rid of her years ago.”

“Rid of her?” I asked in disbelief. “She’s a person. You can’t just toss her out like a pair of worn slippers.”

He flashed a brief, wolfish grin. “Thank you for putting that so eloquently, my dear. That’s exactly what she is. Damaged. Used. Worn.”

Heat flamed in my cheeks. “If you despise Varenian women so much, why did you bring me here? Why not marry an Ilarean woman, like your father and grandfather? It’s obviously worked out very well for them.” I immediately knew I’d gone too far, and the way his features slowly hardened frightened me. I rose and stepped backward, but he quickly closed the space between us.

“Do you think I want you? Do you think I find you beautiful? I could have any woman in Ilara if I wanted.” He took my chin in his hands, squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger. “My father was a fool to marry for love. My mother was beautiful, perhaps, but she was also frail. Her family had spent too many years at New Castle, just like my father’s. Their love, and this cursed mountain, have put our kingdom in jeopardy. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a vessel for the future king, and nothing more.”

I tried to struggle free, but his grip was like iron. Finally, the truth was out. I had been brought here to bolster the royal bloodlines. My beauty had never mattered to Ceren at all. He only wanted a Varenian bride for her strength.

“How terrible it must be for you,” I said through gritted teeth, “to marry someone you despise.”

His hand dropped to my throat before I could scream, the hate in his eyes unmistakable. How could I have ever thought he was emotionless? I clawed at his chest, my feet scrabbling against the stone as he lifted me off the floor. I could feel my strength starting to go, and with all my remaining effort I lashed out with my right foot, sweeping one of his legs out from under him.

He fell to the ground in a heap, and I dropped back to my feet, leaping out of his reach. I gasped for air, my hands on my knees, my throat raw and searing. I moved toward the doorway, wanting to run, but afraid to take my eyes off him.

Ceren climbed slowly to his feet. “If you ever do something like that again, I’ll have you thrown off this mountain.”

“I would rather die than marry you,” I spat, and gave in to my urge to run.

* * *

The marks Ceren’s hands left on my neck faded quickly, but I still felt their crushing weight on my flesh. I went to Melina’s chambers late that night, despite Ebb’s protests and Ceren’s threats. I needed to find a way to delay his progress, at least long enough to warn Sami.

Melina’s room was far down in the mountain, where it was even colder than the main floor. I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head as I passed a guard and eventually came to the room Ebb had described. A maid answered the door, her knit cap pulled low over her ears.

“Lady Melina is sleeping, milady. I can’t disturb her at this hour.”

“It’s urgent,” I said, sliding past her into the small antechamber. “Please wake her.”