I blush. “I would still try.”

“I know you would. That is why you need the lesson on kindness and vulnerability so very badly.”

I frown.

Iisak waves a hand. “Enough of bargains and secrets. Where is our young prince?”

I don’t want to think about Grey. I wish so badly that I hadn’t pulled his hands away from my cheeks when we were whispering secrets in the cave.

I wish for so much, and wishing never works. I straighten my back. “Courting my sister. The true princess.”

“Courting?”

“Yes.”

Tycho glances at me, then glances at my guards and says nothing.

“I am not who you should be visiting, then,” says Iisak.

I straighten my shoulders. “The queen would like to secure an alliance with Emberfall. I am certain Grey and Nolla Verin will get along quite well. They are due their privacy.”

Iisak laughs, his fangs glinting in the light. Abruptly, his laugh shifts to a vicious growl I’ve never heard from him, and he pulls back farther into the shadows.

“Lia Mara.” My mother speaks from behind me.

I jump and whirl and all but press my back to the bars. “Yes. Mother.” Tycho looks as shocked as I do. He bows quickly and tries to pull into the shadows himself. I think he would tuck himself into the cell with the scraver if he could.

So would I. My mother’s eyes are full of fire. “My plans for this creature are none of your concern.”

“I thought—I thought I might be able to speak in his favor—”

“No. You may not. He has broken a treaty, and he is aware of the penalty. Return to your chambers at once.”

I grab Tycho’s hand and drag him with me before she can get any other ideas.

As we ascend the stairs, I hear her voice, low and brutal. “My dear, vicious creature. First we will begin with information, and then we will discuss what you can do for me …”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

GREY

I would rather be back in the throne room facing Karis Luran, or back in the gritty arena of the tourney facing Dustan.

I would almost rather be in the courtyard of Ironrose facing Rhen.

In truth, I would rather be back in that cave on the border of Emberfall, my breath mixing with Lia Mara’s. I should have kissed her. I should have bargained for her to be queen. I should have begged fate for one more night of travel, to see where this flare of attraction would lead.

Instead, I’ve been goaded into a horse race.

Nolla Verin sets a rapid pace into the city, cantering through the streets without regard for her surroundings. She’s clearly a skilled rider, but she could do with a bit more regard for her subjects. More than one person dodges out of the way as we maneuver sharp corners and narrow alleyways.

Guards trail us, none leading, which surprises me. Perhaps they would have led, but Nolla Verin seems to be cutting her own crooked path through the city, leaving her guards to do their best to keep up. We lose some in the more crowded streets, as people are quick to yield ground to their princess, yet not as quick to avoid her Royal Guard. As a guardsman, I would have found it exhausting.

As the supposed heir to the throne of Emberfall, I also find it exhausting.

She holds the lead, but not by much. She has the advantage of knowing the city, of having a light mount that can bank and turn with little notice. She has the advantage of knowing the destination.

I’m beginning to think she wants to see if she can unseat me, but I spent more than three hundred seasons evading a monstrous beast through every forest in Emberfall. She can take any sharp turn she desires; she won’t get me off this horse.

I should be enjoying this. I like horses. I like a challenge.

But I’m worried about Iisak. I’m worried about Lia Mara. I’d hoped to pass her as I followed Nolla Verin out of the palace, but the halls were mostly empty. I thought we might take a sedate ride through the Crystal City, during which I could ask after them both, but Nolla Verin bolted from the castle grounds and clearly expected me to give chase.

So I did.

I keep thinking of my discussion with Lia Mara, when we carried the buck through the woods, about how her people were not so different from mine. It’s so directly at odds with my years of training as a guardsman, but her words weaseled their way into my thoughts and refuse to dislodge.

I want to meet Lia Mara’s people.

I want to do it with her at my side.

Instead, I’m chasing her sister at a full gallop, the people and the buildings blurring into a sea of grays and reds and browns, the sun glinting off glass and silver-shot stone.

Ahead, a woman shrieks, and a small figure darts into the road ahead of us. Nolla Verin’s glossy black hair streams behind her like a banner, and she shows no indication of stopping. I cannot reach her rein, but I put a heel into my horse, crowding her mount, forcing her horse to the side.

She shoots a surprised glare at me over her shoulder, but I’ve already looped my reins into one hand, and I sit down hard in the saddle. My horse responds immediately, hooves skidding on the pavement as I lean down to seize a fistful of fabric. I jerk the child off the ground and into my arms just before the guards gallop past.

The horse prances and fights my hold, wanting to rejoin the chase. I hold fast and look down at the child. She’s about four, with shiny black hair and warm brown skin. Her expression is frozen in the space between wonder and terror.

“Be at ease,” I say to her, though it’s clear she does not understand the words. I make a silly face, and a tiny smile peeks through. I try another and earn a real one. “Fell siralla,” I whisper in a self-deprecating tone, and she giggles.

A woman appears beside me, speaking rapidly, her tone apologetic. Tears sparkle on her lashes. The little girl is already reaching for her, hands wide and clasping, and I ease her down to her mother.

Nolla Verin and the guards have doubled back to return to us, and the woman curtsies to the crown princess, clutching her daughter and speaking even more rapidly.

Nolla Verin ignores her completely. She looks at me, a curious smile on her lips. “That mother should have better control of her child.”

“Her princess should have better control of her horse.”

The smile vanishes. Her lips purse. In that moment, she looks very much like her mother.

I should not rile her. So much balances on what happens here. “Or perhaps your mount was traveling so fast that you did not see the girl.”

A fraction of a smile returns to her face. “Perhaps. I noticed you had difficulty in keeping up with me.”

“How could I not? You are clearly quite skilled.”

The smile broadens and she turns away, paying the woman no heed. I am left with no choice but to follow or to emphasize her rudeness, so I nudge the horse forward and wish I had a coin to toss to the woman.

She calls after me anyway, words I cannot understand.

“What is she saying?” I say to Nolla Verin.

Her mouth tightens. “She offers her thanks.”

“Ah.”

She gives me a wicked glance. “Race you back to the palace?”

Eager to run over more innocents? I think. But instead, I say, “Of course, Your Highness. Do you care to take a head start?”

Her expression turns vicious, and her horse leaps forward. A taunting call floats behind her: “You will regret giving me a lead, Prince Grey.”