Spectators have filled the doorway to the storage yard. Journ, his face a mask of confusion. Worwick, his face a mask of anger. Tycho, his face a mask of anguish.

Worwick grips Tycho’s arm, though, holding him back.

I don’t take my eyes off Dustan, because his action is what will matter here.

“You’ll go down fighting, won’t you?” he says.

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe not this hard.” He studies me as though he can’t figure me out. “The prince has been seeking you for months. We’ve long suspected you were dead.”

That would probably be easier. “I’ve committed no crime,” I say to him. “Call off your men.”

“I might have believed that before you ran.” He pauses. “Why?”

He’s not just asking about today. He’s asking why about all of it.

“For the good of Emberfall,” I say.

He must hear a note of truth in my voice, because he goes still. “Explain.”

I tighten my grip on my sword. “No.”

He turns his head. “Shoot his other leg.”

“No!” screams Tycho. He jerks free of Worwick and runs. “No!”

Dustan turns. The bowman turns.

“Stop!” I yell. I imagine an arrow flying, piercing the boy’s chest. I imagine his blood soaking into the dust. “Tycho, stop!”

He doesn’t stop. I wait for an arrow to snap off the string.

One doesn’t. Dustan steps forward and catches hold of Tycho’s shirt before he can get to me. Tycho swings around and tries to punch him, but Dustan holds fast, tightening his grip until the collar pulls tight and Tycho makes a choking sound.

“Enough,” I say. “He has nothing to do with this. Let him go.”

Dustan tightens his grip and lifts his arm. Tycho makes a panicked keening sound.

This is why I forswore family. This moment exactly.

“Please,” I say, and the word costs me something to say.

Dustan’s gaze never leaves mine. “Do you yield?”

“You’ll let him go?” I say, then realize this could mean an infinite number of ends for Tycho. “You’ll leave him unharmed?”

“If I leave him unharmed, you’ll surrender peacefully?”

“I swear it.”

“Then so do I.”

I drop my sword and my dagger, then raise my hands in surrender. He lets go. The boy falls to his knees, gasping for air.

Dustan takes my wrists and binds them with a stretch of leather.

From the dirt, Tycho looks up at me. I can’t meet his eyes.

“Go back to Worwick,” I tell him.

“No,” says Dustan. “Brandyn. Take the boy. Bind him.”

I freeze, struggling against the binding. “Dustan. You swore.”

Dustan gives me a shove between the shoulder blades. “He won’t be harmed. Walk.”

Behind me, Tycho screams. I can’t see around Dustan, but I don’t need to. I know Tycho is afraid of soldiers.

I whirl and put my shoulder into Dustan’s chest. He grabs hold of my armor and keeps me upright.

I open my mouth to swear at him. To beg of him. To censure him. I’m not sure which, but I don’t get the chance to find out. A gauntleted hand strikes me in the jaw.

I go down without much of a fight at all.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LIA MARA

Sorra’s blood stains the panels of my robes. I have nothing else to wear, and I refuse to ask anything of the horrible man who’s taken me prisoner, so I bear it.

The streaks and splashes have dried to an ugly brown against the cream fabric. My own tears stain the neckline. Both are a fitting reminder of what I’ve lost.

What Parrish has lost.

He spared that girl in the forest, and in return, I led his love to her death.

Perhaps I’ve been wrong about all of it. Surely Mother and Nolla Verin are correct in their ruthless view of the world. Maybe my wish for peace between our countries is the true weakness. Maybe my wish to be heir was. We should have launched an assault on Emberfall—indeed, Mother’s adviser Clanna Sun was in favor of doing just that—and none of this would have happened.

Many more would have died.

The thought is unwelcome, and I shove it away.

The prince’s soldiers have confined me to a lavish room that looks out on the castle courtyard. Sleep will likely never find me again, so I spend the night staring down at the cobblestones below. When dawn breaks, the sunlight touches my tears and dries my cheeks.

I watch the horizon, waiting to see any sign of my people coming to rescue me. Surely Mother will not believe my letter after the prince was so defiant to her and my sister. Surely my sister will demand that I be allowed to return home, or to negotiate at my side.

Surely.

I watch for hours, until the sun is fully in the sky. A lone rider appears at the edge of the woods, galloping at a steady pace. For the first time all night, hope blooms in my heart.

But then I see the gold and red of Emberfall’s colors.

I sink back to the cool marble floor.

I am such a fool. I cannot believe I trusted him.

I believe you trust your mother. Unfortunately, I do not.

Rage burns through the sorrow in my chest. He’s right: I do trust my mother. I trust that she will burn this castle to the ground when she comes to rescue me. I trust that she will ensure Rhen never sits on a throne. I trust that she will break every bone in his body and rip every hair from his head and burn every fiber of his—

The door to my room opens, and I choke on my fury.

Prince Rhen stands there, outfitted in rich leather with gold stitching, looking regal and perfect and cold.

I’m on the floor in dirty robes, nearly vibrating with heat and rage. I want to launch myself at him.

Instead, I stand, adopting an air as regal as his. “You will regret the actions you have taken. My mother will double the forces she was already planning to send into your cursed country.”

“The forces she likely cannot afford?”

I set my jaw.

“I understand your fury,” he says.

“You understand nothing.”

“I understand a great deal.” His eyes narrow. “I understand that you came here in the middle of the night with questionable motives. I understand your mother blackmailed my father for years, and she tried to do the same to me. I understand that your mother and sister care nothing for my people and only care for the waterways that will allow a new way to barter for coins.” He takes a step closer to me, his eyes dark with his own fury. “I understand that thousands of my people have already been slaughtered because of it. That is what I understand.”

“I know many things as well.” My eyes hold his. “I know you have lied to your people.”

“I have not.”

“You lie.” I spit the words at him. “I know you seek this heir because you fear his magic. I know you have imprisoned me because you fear my mother. Your actions reveal your weakness, Prince Rhen.”

“On the contrary. My actions reveal my strength.”

“Killing innocent people should never be seen as a strength.”

His eyebrows go up. “Is that not what your people do?”

“You killed my guard, after I approached you to discuss a means to peace.”