Iisak. My eyes are wide, seeking any shred of light in the darkened room. As the panic bleeds away, I make out the dimness of his skin, the smoke-colored span of his wings over his shoulders. He still wears a silver collar around his neck, but the chain is gone.

I shove myself up to sitting and glance at the door. “What are you doing here?” I whisper carefully, mindful of my guards.

“Visiting a prisoner, as you once did for me.”

Emotion builds in my throat, and my mouth turns downward. “You should leave before you are caught.” I press my fingertips into my eyes to stop any tears from falling. “I bring nothing but trouble, Iisak.”

“Perhaps, but I bring a missive from our rebellious young prince.”

I thrust my hands down and blink at him. “What?”

He extends a folded piece of paper, and I nearly fall out of bed scrambling to take it. It’s too late to dare light a candle—my guards would notice something was amiss. I move to the window to read in the moonlight.

Grey’s handwriting is long and sloping, the words quickly formed as if he was worried he would be discovered.

Forgive me. Please forgive me. I never meant to put you at risk. If there is a way for me to negotiate for your freedom, please let me know it. Your mother plays dangerous games, and I worry that I will further endanger you or those you care for.

I keep thinking back to those brief moments on the veranda and wondering if I should never have offered you my jacket. My thoughts keep reminding me that you were cold, however, and the idea of leaving you shivering is not a thought I can bear.

Especially when my thoughts also remind me of the brief moments after, when I hope you were not cold at all.

I want to sink back into the pillows of my bed and press this letter to my chest, but I am desperate to see what else he wrote.

I have reached an accord with your mother in an attempt to spare more innocent lives. I tried to require your freedom as part of our agreement, but your mother refused. If I had the skills to magic myself into your room this very moment, I would do it.

At your mother’s insistence, I have spent a great deal of time with your sister.

My hand tightens on the paper, and I must force myself to keep reading.

She is quite worried for you. The bold girl who raced me through the city now speaks of nothing but concern for you. As someone who has spent many days trying to think of what to say to the man who is now my brother, I thought you should know.

Yours,

Grey

Yours. But he’s not mine.

A tear drips onto the paper, and I hastily swipe it away. I force my shoulders to straighten, and I look across at Iisak, hardly more than another shadow in the room.

“Is he well?” I say.

“He is trapped by circumstance, as we all are.” He pauses. “But yes. He is well.”

As we all are. I’m not sure if that’s true. My mother does not care for the people of Emberfall. Nor does my sister. I think of that trapper and his daughter, killed without thought.

I think of the destruction we saw on our trip into Emberfall, so many days ago.

I think of Prince Rhen, and what he was willing to do to stop an heir from taking his throne.

I think of Parrish, likely standing outside my door this very moment, punished for obeying my order.

I look at Iisak, then at the window. “Can you help me get out of here?” I whisper as softly as possible, as if even giving voice to the thought will carry the words to my mother’s ears.

He follows my glance, then moves to the window. “I cannot bear the weight of a human for long.”

“You pulled soldiers off their horses in Blind Hollow.”

“That was a matter of inches, not a three-story fall, and I was not worried about preserving their lives.”

I frown, then sigh. “I can do nothing from this room, Iisak.”

“If you leap from this window, the best I can offer is a slower descent toward death.”

That makes me scowl. “So this is it? I’m supposed to sit here and read while Grey goes off to battle against his brother, with my sister at his side?”

“Would you rather be at his side?”

Warmth blooms in my cheeks before I’m ready for it. “I would rather we not war with Emberfall at all. We have already caused much damage.”

“You have not caused all the damage to Emberfall, Princess.” He pauses. “Some things even you cannot stop.”

Does that mean there are things I can stop? Everything I’ve tried has ended in failure. It’s likely a miracle that I was able to deliver Grey to the castle unharmed. Perhaps I should stay locked in my room while everyone else solves the world’s problems.

No. The idea is abhorrent to me.

We have already caused so much harm. We cannot continue taking from Emberfall, regardless of who is in power.

Mother will not allow me to leave. Parrish will not help me. Grey’s position is too precarious.

I move to my desk and remove a few sheets of paper, along with an inkwell and a quill.

“Will you deliver a message?” I say to Iisak.

“To the prince? For certain.”

“No.” My thoughts are swirling, thinking of what to say to Grey. But ink drips on the paper as I hastily write my message.

Two sisters, one heart. Please come to me. I need my other half.

I blow on the ink to dry it, then hold it out. “I need you to take this to my sister.”

I imagined Nolla Verin reading my message and immediately coming to my door.

She does not.

I lie awake most of the night, watching as the first rays of sunlight gild my ceiling at dawn. Outside my room I hear the clatter and bustle of servants in the hall, but Nolla Verin still does not come.

By midmorning, I sit by the window hoping to catch a glimpse of my sister.

Eventually she appears, Grey at her side. My chest gives a tug at the sight of them, but today, I do not shy away from the window. Mother follows, not far behind. They meet with a cadre of soldiers on the training field, all of whom break apart into sparring groups. Grey and my sister watch over the fighters, my mother nearby. Always watching, always judging. My fingers dig into the window ledge.

Ah, Sister, I think. Look up. Look up and see how much I need you.

Maybe we do share a heart, because she turns from the swordplay, and her gaze lifts to find mine. I gasp as our eyes meet.

“Please,” I whisper.

Even from here, I can see the sorrow in her expression, proving the weight in Grey’s note.

Her lips move, forming the words very carefully: I’m sorry.

I fall back from the window, but not before seeing her turn back to our mother, listening to whatever she’s saying, ever the dutiful heir.

That night, when the sky is inky black and the moon hangs high and full outside my window, Iisak returns with another note from Grey.

Your mother is eager to move quickly. She reveals little to me, but guards and soldiers talk, and it seems my past allows me to play both sides. I have learned much during our sparring. Your Royal Houses are similar to Rhen’s Grand Marshals, and it seems she has gained their support—and funding. They are eager to access Rhen’s waterways and seaports, and timing is essential now, because his kingdom is fractured and weak. We will ride into Emberfall in a few days.