I grab hold of my jacket around her shoulders and pull her against me. Her mouth is warm and sweet, and her hands slip across my chest to find my shoulders. I forget the guards. I forget Emberfall and Syhl Shallow and everything between us. I lose myself in the press of her body against mine, the feel of her waist under my hands, the way her fingers press into my arms when her tongue brushes mine.

Eventually, our mouths slow, and she presses her cheek to my chest, tucking her head beneath my chin.

“Can we do this together?” she says. “Unite Emberfall and Syhl Shallow?”

It seems impossible—but so much has seemed impossible for so long.

A leaf, turned red by the changing seasons and buoyed by the wind, drifts across the veranda to settle on her chair.

“The first day of autumn was Rhen’s birthday,” I say to her.

“Well, instead of bringing an army,” she says softly, “perhaps we should bring him a gift.”

CHAPTER FIFTY

GREY

We take our time traveling through Emberfall. Instead of hiking through the woods in secrecy, we ride in style and stop at every town along the way. We spend silver and speak of hope. We eat hearty food and spin to lively music and kiss under the stars when the nights grow quiet and long.

Many people are wary of the guards from Syhl Shallow, but word has spread of what happened in Blind Hollow, and Lia Mara is charming and kind and wins their trust effortlessly.

As we travel closer to the heart of Emberfall, the rumors grow darker. We learn of larger cities, like Silvermoon Harbor, that have attempted to refuse Rhen’s rule, and how he has sent soldiers to restore order, with varying success. Fear is in the air, so thick and potent I can taste it on my tongue. This close to Ironrose, there is little revelry. Instead of openly welcoming us into their midst, people take our coins and whisper their worries. Men clasp my hand furtively and say they hope I will bring unity to Emberfall—quietly pledging their allegiance.

It is humbling—and surprising.

Every time we stop, I expect to find guards and soldiers waiting to bar our progress, but none appear.

After two weeks, we reach the forest surrounding the castle. The last time I traveled through these woods, I was in chains, with Jake ready to put a knife in my back.

Today I wear the colors of Syhl Shallow and Emberfall, a queen at my side.

As we enter the forest, I hear nothing, not even the bells to announce that we are approaching.

“It is quiet,” Lia Mara murmurs to me.

“Too quiet,” says Jake. His voice has grown heavy. “What happened to the bells?”

“And shouldn’t guards be riding out to stop us?” says Tycho.

In our traveling party, we have twenty people, so we are not a small group. We have made no secret of our destination, and even now we approach the castle openly. There should indeed be someone riding out to greet us.

I frown.

“Something’s wrong,” says Lia Mara.

Iisak soars high above, but when I whistle, he banks and eases to the ground ahead of us.

I nod ahead. “What is happening at the castle?”

“Sixteen guards at the front, twelve at the back.” He pauses. “The man you faced in the tourney is among them.”

Dustan. I wonder why the guards have made no move to stop us.

I cluck to my horse and proceed. Iisak returns to the skies, but for the rest of us, our travel across the long stretch of grass to the front of the castle feels endless.

From here, I can see the line of guards. They stand at attention, just as they should, no look of alarm or worry or discontent in their expressions. Gold and red pennants snap alongside the ramparts above. I pick out Dustan right away. He is the only guardsman to meet my eyes, and his expression is cold.

He’d draw a weapon on me right now. I can tell. He’s been ordered not to.

There is not something wrong. Rhen is choosing not to acknowledge our presence. This is a power play, nothing more.

Despite everything, it makes me smile. Silver hell, Rhen is such a cocky bastard.

I call a halt to our group, then look to Lia Mara.

“I would like to speak with him alone,” I say.

Her lips part and she frowns, but she says nothing.

“He could try to kill you,” says Jake.

I glance at the castle, then shake my head. “I do not think so.”

Lia Mara still looks troubled. I pick up her hand and press a kiss to her palm. “If he meant me harm, he would not have allowed us to draw so close.”

She keeps hold of my hand. “He harmed you once before.”

“I have not forgotten.”

Her eyes are dark with fear and betrayal. “I do not trust him, Grey.”

“I know him better than anyone,” I say. “I know what he is capable of.” I put my heels against the horse’s sides, and we spring forward.

“Tell Harper to come out,” Jake calls from behind me. “I want to put eyes on my sister.”

I ride right up to the guards. Dustan steps out of line.

“You are ordered to leave,” he says, his voice low.

“I no longer take orders.” I swing down from the horse and turn to face him.

To my surprise, he puts a hand on his sword. Automatically, I begin to draw mine.

“Commander.” Rhen’s voice drifts down from the front steps of the castle, where he stands in the shadow of a pillar.

My hand freezes. The word, his voice … they should not pull at strings inside me after all this time, but they still do. I cannot escape my past, no matter how much I might try.

But Dustan stops too, so I allow the sword to settle back into its sheath. I look up at Rhen. Like the swordsmen, his eyes are cold, his expression guarded.

“I would like to speak with you privately,” I say.

“Why, when you campaign against me so openly?” His voice is dark and vicious.

“I am not campaigning.”

“Are you not? Your journey here has been no secret.”

“Nor have your actions. How many soldiers did you lose in Silvermoon?”

A muscle twitches in his jaw. “How many stripes are on your back, Grey?”

A line of ice travels up my spine, and my thoughts cool, pulling emotion out of my head, leaving only the space to do what needs to be done. “Did you not count, Rhen?”

I have never called him by his given name, and never so boldly, in front of others. It has the effect I expect: his eyes are shuttered, that muscle in his jaw tight as a bowstring. “What do you want?”

“I just told you. I would like to speak with you privately.”

He makes me wait for an answer.

I had more than three hundred seasons to get used to his maneuverings, so I have no trouble waiting.

Perhaps he senses that, because he takes a step back. “We can speak in the Grand Hall.”

Dustan moves to follow me up the steps, but Rhen adds, “Commander, you will wait out here.”

Then we are in the castle, and the heavy wooden door falls closed, the sound echoing through the empty room. I can sense the movements of guards and servants in the halls, and I know we will never truly be alone, but right now, the castle feels colder and emptier than in all the time we were trapped by the curse.

Rhen’s movements are tight and precise, and the anger in his expression is unmistakable. I watch as he circles around me, like a swordsman waiting for an opening.