“I would share a story with you,” he finally says.

“All right.”

“I would prefer this story not reach the ears of Karis Luran.”

I look at him. This reminds me of the night I shared secrets with Tycho. Maybe it was our fight, or maybe it’s our shared loathing of Karis Luran. Maybe he needs a confidant as badly as I once did. “I keep secrets well, Iisak.”

“Our people had an aeliix,” he says. “An heir. A prince, of sorts. He did not want to rule either.” He pauses. “He resented our confinement to the ice forests. He wished to destroy our treaty with Syhl Shallow, to grant us access to the warmer skies. He claimed his birthright was a burden. Many thought he was spoiled and selfish, but much like your brother’s feelings about magic, his resistance was rooted in fear. To rule is to take on the weight of all your people, to become leader instead of follower. To become parent instead of child.” Iisak twists the links of the chain between his fingers. They’re coated in ice that melts in the heat of the fire to drip on the floor. “Our aeliix fled Iishellasa through Syhl Shallow and was never heard from again.”

I study him. “Is this a story about you, Iisak? Did you flee your birthright?”

“No, Your Highness.”

I frown.

His eyes are so dark and resigned. His voice is very quiet, barely more than a whisper. “My son did.”

I straighten. “Your … son.”

“I believed Karis Luran held him captive.”

In the woods, Lia Mara asked what her mother had.

Something quite dear to me, he said.

I stare at him. “So that makes you …”

“Their friist.” He smiles sadly. “Their king.” He glances at the window. “Though I have been gone far longer than I ever anticipated. I may no longer have a crown to claim.”

This is a much bigger secret than anything Tycho shared in the loft. I suck a breath in through my teeth. “You’re to be her prisoner for a year, Iisak.”

“I would have risked a lifetime.” The fire crackles behind me, reflecting off his eyes. “Would you not?”

When I hesitate, he smiles. “You would. Were you a father, you would.” He pauses. “When I left Iishellasa, I tried to follow his trail, but I was captured, then traded, then sold, then gambled away.”

“To Worwick,” I say.

“Yes.” He pauses. “And I am not her prisoner now.” He drags those chains across his claws again. “Your Highness, I am yours.”

I swallow. “You’re not my prisoner, Iisak.”

“You made a bargain with Karis Luran. You cannot free me. Too much is at stake.”

There is always too much at stake. I frown again. “How do you know she doesn’t have him?”

“She would have demanded far more than a year.” He uncurls from the ground and looks out the window. “He could be long gone—or long dead. This was the final trail I had to follow.”

Now I understand why he needed a battle as well.

“I will find a way to earn your freedom,” I say.

“I can survive a year on a chain,” he says. “You have more pressing matters, Your Highness.”

I scowl, but he’s right. “Rhen rallied his people to drive Syhl Shallow out of Emberfall. He saved his country. It is not right to ride in and take it away from him.”

“He lied to his people to keep hold of his throne.” He pauses. “To say nothing of whatever actions allowed his people to fall into desperation and poverty.”

Yes. Rhen did that. I helped him do that. We had no other choice.

“From what I can see,” says Iisak, “there are few paths here. If you accept your birthright and return to claim your throne, Karis Luran will lend her support in exchange for an alliance with Emberfall and access to Rhen’s—to your—waterways.”

“Yes.” The fire snaps, and I draw my legs up to sit cross-legged.

“If you deny your birthright,” Iisak continues, “you will have to flee this palace.” His eyes are hard. “Karis Luran would not allow someone with your abilities to roam unchecked. Rhen would not either. You and your people do not speak the language here, but you could be recognized in Emberfall. This would be a challenging feat for anyone.”

“So my choice is to destroy Rhen or to allow myself to be destroyed. This is no choice at all.”

Iisak is quiet for a moment. “Why did you swear yourself into Prince Rhen’s service?”

“I swore to protect the Crown.” I hesitate. “To protect the line of succession. To protect the people of Emberfall.” I hesitate again, hearing the truth in my words. “To be a part of something bigger than myself.”

“And so you have.”

I run a hand across my jaw. So I have.

I swore to protect the Crown, and that meant whoever was rightfully wearing it. I swore to protect King Broderick, and after his death, I swore to protect Rhen. Not just because of who he was, but because of who he represented.

Have I been fighting against myself all this time?

“Let us not forget,” Iisak adds, “that you have something Rhen does not.”

I roll my eyes. “Magic.”

“You scoff!” His wings flare, and his eyes flash. “If you would stop fighting yourself, I believe you would find your abilities manifest very powerfully indeed. If you are the last remaining magesmith, you could be more powerful than any I have ever seen. I believe what happened to Rhen and his people is a mere fraction of what you can accomplish. Why do you think Karis Luran is so eager to undermine your talents?”

He is right. I am not sure I like it, but he is right. “As you say. I will draft the terms of an alliance with Karis Luran.” My chest feels tight. “I will make a claim for Rhen’s throne.”

“Besides, I was not referring to magic alone.”

“No? What else do I possess that Rhen does not?”

He smiles that terrifying smile, then tosses the length of silver chain in my lap. “You have me.”

I blink at him in surprise.

“Let’s battle again,” he says, and he flexes his claws. “This time, use more than your bare hands.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

LIA MARA

Meals are brought at regular intervals, but it seems my mother was serious. I am not allowed to leave my room. My guards refuse to speak with me. I have my bed and my books and my washroom, but little else. From my window, three stories high, I can see the training yards and the stables, but after catching sight of Grey walking with Nolla Verin, I stay away from the view.

No one visits me.

I long for the companionship of my friends, but of everyone, I miss my sister the most.

I wish I could speak with her. I wish I could explain.

By the third night, I’m lying in bed, staring up at the darkness, wondering if the guards would put a sword through my body if I made an effort to rush past them.

Knowing my mother, they probably would. I should consider myself lucky that she did not do it herself.

A shadow crosses my wall, and I freeze. Movement flickers in the darkened corner, and I inhale sharply.

Before I have time to wonder if the guards would even respond to a shout, an icy breeze swirls through the room. “Have no fear, Princess.”