She is right, but I will not interfere. I am waging my own battle here on the sidelines. “You wish to speak of mercy, Lady Lilith? I find that to be an odd bit of irony.” I glance at her. “If you have no interest in meeting with Harper, leave this place. I have no time for you.”

“You will not dictate to me, Rhen. Must I remind you of our roles here?”

The words hit me hard. I said something similar to Harper. Hearing them from Lilith makes me wish I could take them back.

“I need no reminder,” I snap, turning to face her. “You’ve cursed me. You’ve cursed my kingdom. If you’ve grown bored with your game, end it. If you’re unwilling to return Harper to her home, take your leave.”

“Such fire! Prince Rhen, it has been quite some time since I have seen your temper. I must say, I have missed your spirit.” She lifts a hand and steps forward, reaching as if to touch my chest.

A sword point appears against hers. “You will keep your distance,” says Grey. His breath is barely quick, and though sweat dampens his hair, his sword does not waver.

Lilith scarcely spares him a glance. “This does not concern you, Commander,” she says. “You will keep your distance.”

Grey doesn’t move. His sword point does not either.

Now she looks at him. “Haven’t you learned your little sword cannot truly kill me?”

“I have learned it can hurt you.”

Yes. He has. It never ends well for him.

Lilith moves her hand as if to touch his blade. I have no idea what she plans, whether she’ll turn his sword to molten steel or drive it back into him—or maybe send it spinning to slice into both of us.

But Jamison’s sword appears at her throat, forcing her to lift her chin.

She freezes. Her eyes shift to the soldier. “You have no part in this. You want no quarrel with me.”

He stands strong. He’s tired, but his sword does not waver either. “I know an enemy when I see one.”

Her eyes, full of fury, lock on mine. “I will destroy them both,” she hisses.

“Stand down,” I say to them at once. I don’t take my eyes off her. “You will not harm my people.”

Their swords lower. Jamison takes a step back, but Grey remains at my side.

Lilith steps closer to me. “Tell your other man to give us privacy, or I will destroy him.”

“Jamison,” I say. “Go. Wait in the armory.”

He hesitates—then says, “Yes, Your Highness,” and withdraws.

“I have the power here,” Lilith says. “You are to remember that, Prince Rhen.”

“I have not forgotten.”

“Why do you ask me to return the girl? It does you no good for me to take her away.”

“She does not love me. Her mother is dying. You have cursed me, not her. It seems cruel to deny her the final days with her mother.” I keep my voice bored. Disinterested. Anything more, and Lilith will use it against me.

She considers this for a long moment.

Finally, her eyes flick to Grey. “Fetch the girl, Commander.”

Grey does not move.

Lilith steps forward and walks her fingers up his chest. “I do not like being ignored,” she whispers as her fingers reach the skin of his throat. “I could carve the bones out of your neck while he watches.”

“Harper has come to trust him,” I say to her. “She will not react well to his loss. You yourself swore not to interfere.”

“Who says he needs to die?” Her fingernail presses into his skin and a pearl of red wells up.

“Commander,” I say. “Go.”

“Yes, my lord.” He doesn’t like it, but he’ll obey. Grey heads for the passage into the palace proper.

Lilith moves to stand in front of me. Irritation fills her eyes. “I do not like this,” she says. “You seek to trick me somehow.”

“This is not my request. As you said when Harper arrived, she is an unusual choice. If home calls to her so strongly, I will not trap her here. She will never love me if I keep her prisoner.”

Lilith moves close enough that I feel the weight of her skirts against my legs. “Ah, so you’re altruistic now? I have heard men become so when the end is near. An attempt to right their wrongs, I believe.”

I say nothing.

She folds her arms and gazes up at me. In anyone else, it would be a girlish gesture. “There is a part of me that will miss this.”

“There is no part of me that will,” I say.

Her hand lifts lazily and she traces a finger down the center of my chest. “Are you sure, Prince Rhen?”

With those words, the pain begins.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

HARPER

I’m hiding from my lady-in-waiting. Freya and her children share the suite next to mine, and she has knocked at the door at least three times over the past hour.

“Shall I lay out a dress for this evening, my lady?”

“Do you need assistance in the bath, my lady?”

“My lady, tea has appeared in the drawing room. Would you like me to serve?”

The last offer was delivered with a mixture of awe and fear.

I’ve declined all of it. I’m not used to people waiting on me—and playing princess to stop the destruction of the inn feels a whole lot different from letting someone brush my hair.

A knock sounds at the door when I’m in the middle of re-braiding my curls.

“I’m fine!” I call. “I don’t need anything!”

“My lady.” Grey’s voice, low and serious, muffled by the heavy wood of the door. “His Highness requests your presence.”

I tie off the braid and go for the door. He’s tall and foreboding pretty much always, but right now his face is a mask of tension.

“Something’s wrong,” I say.

“Lady Lilith has agreed to speak with you.”

Surprise kicks my heart into double-time. “Now?”

“Yes.” His voice indicates he is not happy about this. That makes me more nervous than any of Rhen’s warnings.

I swallow. “Let me get my boots.”

Grey leads me down the staircase where I followed Rhen yesterday. I have to scurry to keep up with him, but I don’t want to tell him to slow down. “They’re in the kitchen?”

He glances at me. “The training arena.”

Fear and excitement battle for space in my chest. In ten minutes, I could be thrown back to Washington, DC. I could be there for my mother. I could be there for Jake. This could all be over.

In the back of my head, a twinge of guilt pricks at me. I’m leaving these people. I’m leaving Emberfall to its fate—and I’ll never know what happened. Princess Harper of Disi would vanish. The people here would be left to the curse and the monster.

But this curse is not my fault. I have nothing to do with this place. I have no obligation to any of them.

The guilt doesn’t go away. In fact, it seems to cling harder.

“Grey.” I catch his arm, my fingers digging into the leather buckled around his forearm. He’s replaced the knife he lost to the man in the inn. The steel of the hilt is cold under my palm. “Did Rhen tell her what I want?”

He stops and looks down at me. The hallway is so quiet around us, shadowed with flickering candlelight. “She knows what you have asked. She has agreed to hear your request.”

“Do you think she’ll send me home?”

“I think she will do whatever causes the greatest harm.”

An arrow of fear pierces right through any hope I had. “To me? Or to Rhen?”

“To him.” He pauses, and his voice is resigned. “Which may work in your favor.”

The warning in his tone is chilling, and nothing about those words is a relief.

An ornate steel door sits at the end of the hallway, flanked by large oil lamps. Grey reaches for the handle and swings it wide.

The floor turns to dirt, and we’re in a huge open space. The walls to my left are lined with weapons, from swords and axes to lances and spears. The ceiling stretches two stories overhead, crossed with wooden beams and painted white. Late-afternoon sunlight streams across the space from above.

In the center of the arena stands the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She’s almost too stunning to look at, from the shine of her black hair to the jeweled satin of her skirts.

At her feet, on his knees, one hand braced in the dirt, is Rhen.

He’s spitting blood at the ground.

The room full of gore flashes in front of my eyes. Every time he tried to warn me about Lilith, and I didn’t understand.

“Stop!” I scream. “What are you doing to him? Stop it!”

I don’t realize I’m running until Grey catches me. His arms wrap around my waist, pinning me against him. His voice is low and quiet against my ear. “She can kill you without thought, my lady.”

I struggle against him. My voice breaks out with a sob. “She’s killing him.”

“Killing him?” The woman laughs, and even that is beautiful, in a grating, shimmering way, like discordant wind chimes. “I would never kill him.” She glances down at Rhen. I don’t see her move, but he jerks and makes a low keening sound, then coughs more blood into the dirt.

I had no idea she would be like this.