The king is dead.

The crown prince will take his place.

The crown prince should take his place. It creates a pull in my chest I did not expect. I once swore my life to Rhen, for this very reason. To be a part of something bigger than myself.

Now I am here, in the dusty streets of Rillisk, barely more than a stable hand. The secret half-brother to the Crown Prince of Emberfall. The missing heir who doesn’t want to be found.

Part of absolutely nothing at all.

CHAPTER THREE

LIA MARA

I’ve been peering out the carriage window for miles. The air on this side of the mountains has a weight to it, a heavy stickiness that makes me wish I could travel in a vest and leggings instead of my royal robes. The beauty of the landscape is worth it, though. Beyond the mountains, Syhl Shallow consists of miles of flat farmland, broken only by occasional cities and only one narrow river. Emberfall has been a wealth of valleys and forests and varying terrain.

Plus a few burned-out cities, charred remains left by our own soldiers when Mother first tried to take this land.

Those always force my eyes back into the carriage. I have no interest in seeing the destruction wrought by our people.

A pattern of destruction I once thought I could change, until Mother named my younger sister as heir.

Across from me, my sister looks unaffected by the weather and the scenery. Nolla Verin is sitting in the shadows, embroidering with red and silver thread. Knowing her, it’s an adornment for one of her horses.

She would not flinch from the sight of burned-out cities. Nolla Verin would not flinch from anything.

That is why my sister has been named heir, and not me.

Nolla Verin’s mouth is curved with soft amusement. “Lia Mara. You do realize we will be seen as hostile,” she says in Syssalah, our language.

I do not take my eyes off the lush greenery. “Mother has tried to raze this country. How could we be seen any differently?”

“I am thinking you would make an easy target, leaning out the window with your mouth hanging open.”

I close my mouth and settle back into my seat, allowing the sheer curtain to fall over the window.

Nolla Verin’s smile widens. “And everyone always says you are the clever one.”

“Ah, yes. Though I do prefer that to being called the sturdy one.”

She laughs softly. “Keep a list. When I am queen, I will have them all executed on your behalf.”

When I am queen.

I smile and hope she does not see the hint of sadness behind it.

Not because I am jealous. We promised each other long ago that we would support whoever was chosen. And though she is two years younger than I am, even at sixteen she could not be better suited to inherit the crown from our mother. Nolla Verin was practically born with a bow and arrow in hand, not to mention a sword at her hip. Like our mother, she has no hesitation in using either. She can break the most aggressive horse in the stables, and in fact many of the Royal Houses have begun sending their colts to her for training, just to brag that their steeds were tamed by the great queen’s daughter.

Nolla Verin and our mother also share the same affinity for swift, brutal judgment.

That is what makes me sad. My sister laughs at the thought of execution.

Because she is not joking.

Their resemblance does not end there. Nolla Verin and Mother share the same build, small and lithe and athletic—perfectly fit for the battlefield. The only trait I share with our mother is my red hair, though mine hangs to my waist, while Mother keeps hers shorter. Nolla Verin’s hair is a shiny curtain of black. I am not small and I am not nimble, leading many at court to remark on my cleverness when they’re being kind—and my “sturdiness” when they’re not.

My sister has gone back to her embroidery. Her fingers fly back and forth across the fabric. If she is nervous, she shows no sign of it.

Our traveling party is not large. Sorra and Parrish are my personal guards, and they ride at the back. Tik and Dyhl, Nolla Verin’s guards, ride at the center. My mother has four personal guards, and they surround her carriage at the front.

“What if the prince rejects Mother’s offer?” I say.

Her eyes lift from the fabric. “He would be a fool. Our forces could destroy this pathetic country.”

I glance at the window. So far, I have not found Emberfall to be pathetic. And Prince Rhen was able to drive our forces back through the mountain pass, so it seems that we would be wise to be cautious.

“Hmm,” I say, “and do you think this destruction will lead to people being willing to work the waterways we so desperately need?”

“Our people can learn.”

“I feel they could learn more quickly from people who already possess the skills.”

She sighs patronizingly. “You would likely beg for instruction with nuts and honey.”

I look away, out the window. I’d rather ask for help than order it with a sword in hand, but this is another reminder of why Nolla Verin has been chosen instead of me.

“We can leave a few alive, if need be,” she says. “They’ll be desperate to help.”

“We can leave them all alive if Mother secures an alliance.”

“And we will. Prince Rhen’s monstrous creature is gone,” Nolla Verin says. “Our spies have reported that his cities are beginning to question his right to rule. If he wants to keep this silly country, he will accept.”

She is so practical. My lip quirks up. “What if you do not like him?”

She rolls her eyes. “As if that matters. I can bed a man without liking him.”

I blush at her boldness. “Nolla Verin. Have you … done that?”

“Well. No.” Her eyes flick up to meet mine, and her fingers go still on her embroidery. “Have you?”

My blush deepens. “Of course not.”

Nolla Verin’s eyes widen. “Then you should do it first and tell me what to expect. Are you bored now? I shall call for Parrish right this very moment. Or would you fancy Dyhl instead? You can have the carriage—”

I giggle and throw a brocade cushion at her. “You will do no such thing.”

She dodges the pillow without missing a stitch. “I am just asking you to be sisterly.”

“What of Prince Rhen’s betrothed?”

“Princess Harper?” Nolla Verin pulls her thread tight and knots it off. “She can bed who she chooses, too.”

“Do not be coy, Sister.”

She sighs. “I am not worried. Their alliance means nothing. Three months have passed since the prince supposedly allied Emberfall with the mysterious Disi. No forces have arrived. Mother does not think the prince has been fully honest with his people, and I am inclined to agree.”

I am too. While Nolla Verin prefers to spend her time on the training field, I prefer to spend hours each week under the tutelage of Mother’s chief adviser, Clanna Sun, learning about military strategy or the intricate interweaving of the Royal Houses. Over the last few months, it seemed that Prince Rhen was assembling an army that could produce a threat—but somehow one has never materialized. I do find it curious that the prince would continue courting the Princess of Disi if their alliance has fallen apart. Emberfall is weak. He needs to tie himself to a country that can offer the support his land needs to thrive.