“I’ll go willingly,” S?ren says quietly, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. “I did nothing wrong and I’m sure King Etristo will see that.”

He moves to step toward the guards, both his hands held up and clearly visible. Before I know what I’m doing, I reach out and grab his hand, forcing him to turn back to face me. It’s only then that I remember that we are not alone and that there are a dozen suitors watching who will read far too much into one simple touch. I pull my hand away quickly and let it fall to my side.

“We’ll get you out,” I tell him quietly. “I did it once, I’ll do it again.”

S?ren’s smile is brittle, but he at least pretends to believe me as the guards clap bejeweled manacles onto his wrists and drag him away.

“HE IS PART OF MY council,” I tell King Etristo, struggling to get the words past my clenched teeth. “When you promised me protection, I was under the impression that that protection applied to my entire party.”

From his place behind his large marble desk, King Etristo barely spares me a glance. He gives a beleaguered sigh and rolls his eyes skyward. It’s hardly respectful, but he doesn’t see me as an equal so much as he sees me as female body who speaks far more than strictly necessary. He wouldn’t even meet with me until after he’d had breakfast, which means S?ren has been stuck in a Sta’Criveran prison for eight hours.

“As I have explained several times already, my dear, I cannot guarantee the safety of those who break Sta’Crivero’s laws. Do you not consider murder against the law in Astrea?”

Warmth seeps through my skin until my hands begin to feel hot. I ball them into fists at my sides, though that does little to smother the heat. The warmth coursing through my veins grows hotter every time he says the words my dear. I force myself to take deep breaths. Nothing like the singed sheets has happened since we left the ship—only the occasional heat in my hands and arms—and I can almost convince myself I imagined the whole thing, but at times like this I know I didn’t. I feel the fire inside me and I know that if it gets out now…I can’t let it.

“Of course we do,” I say, forcing my voice to stay calm and level. I look to Heron, Blaise, and Artemisia standing behind me before turning back to the King. “But such a serious accusation requires proof and you have provided none apart from his bloodline. If that is a good enough reason to imprison someone, I’m surprised your prisons aren’t overflowing.”

King Etristo steeples his fingers atop his desk and the sheaf of papers that I suspect he was only pretending to read to avoid me. “As we speak, Salla Coltania is instructing my apothecaries in how to make another draught of truth serum. I understand the process can take some time,” he says. “If that clears his name, I will release him with my humblest apologies, but one can’t be too careful with your safety, my dear. Especially since, as I understand it, he was spending quite a few nights in your bedroom.”

The implication in his voice makes me blush and I’m glad my Shadows are the only ones who hear him, though I’m sure that bit of gossip has already taken root, no doubt helped along by my own actions in the throne room. I stepped between S?ren and the armed guards, after all.

“Two nights,” I say before gesturing to my three Shadows. “Along with the rest of my advisors. If he’d truly wanted me dead, there would have been no easier time for him to accomplish it than when I was asleep.”

The corners of the King’s mouth pull down into a deep frown, and he finally looks at me. “Well, then Salla Coltania’s potion should clear him of all charges and he will be let go in just a few days,” he says, as if speaking to an irritating child.

I want to scream, but instead I force a smile. “Very well,” I say tightly. “But since Prinz S?ren was my trusted advisor on matters of international affairs, I can’t in good conscience meet with any suitors until he is free to advise me. You understand, of course? I must protect my interests.”

King Etristo looks like he wishes he could strike me, but after a second, a pleasant mask falls into place.

“If you insist, my dear,” he says. “Though I worry your lack of trust will be seen as a slight.”

The men who would demand proof of my virginity, slighted because I don’t trust them. I could laugh at the irony if I weren’t so angry.

“No slight intended, of course,” I say sweetly. “In the meantime, I would like to be able to visit Prinz S?ren in the dungeon at my leisure to ensure that he’s being treated fairly.”

King Etristo’s expression turns icy once more.

“My dear, now I am beginning to feel slighted by your lack of trust.”

I keep my smile pasted on. “Again, not my intention, Your Highness. But I do think it’s necessary for my peace of mind.”

King Etristo grits his teeth, but after what feels like an eternity, he nods. “Very well.”

I dip into a shallow curtsy before turning and walking out of the room, my Shadows at my heels.

* * *

—

Artemisia, Heron, Blaise, and I barely have time to settle back into my room before Dragonsbane thunders in, her expression a storm cloud. For a moment, I think she’s angry about S?ren being arrested, but of course that’s ridiculous. If she had her way, he’d still be in the brig of the Smoke.

“You shouldn’t seek an audience with the King without me present,” she snaps. “Do you have any idea how foolish you’ve made yourself look?”

I let the venom in her voice roll off my back.

“The King arrested my advisor and I handled it,” I say coolly. “I daresay I got further than you would have, since you do little more than jump when he tells you to.”

She reels back as though she’s been slapped. For a moment she looks like she wants to skin me alive right here, but I hold my ground.

“I have Astrea’s best interests at heart,” she tells me. “And it is in Astrea’s best interests not to insult the most powerful ally we have.”

I can’t help but snort. “He isn’t an ally,” I say. “If he was, he would give us troops himself. He merely sides with whoever can get him the most money. If the Kaiser was willing to pay enough, he’d turn on us in an instant. Right now, my marriage dowry is worth more, so I have some power. I’m going to use that as best I can, and if you don’t do the same, you’re the fool.”

“Theo,” Artemisia whispers, a warning I don’t heed.

Dragonsbane’s eyes are full of ice-cold fury. “Leave us,” she says to my Shadows, her voice barely louder than a hiss.

“We stay with the Queen,” Heron tells her firmly.

I meet Dragonsbane’s stare without flinching. I’d like nothing better than to keep my Shadows close right now, but I have a feeling what Dragonsbane has to say isn’t anything I want anyone else to hear.

“Go on,” I say. “This won’t take long.”

“Theo…,” Blaise cautions.

“Go,” I repeat.

My Shadows exchange wary looks, but they file out, leaving me alone with Dragonsbane. I would be lying if I said I didn’t fear her still, but I’m careful not to let it show—she can sense fear and she preys on it.

“The Kaiser made an attempt on my life,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “Here, where King Etristo promised me safety. A man is dead because he underestimated the Kaiser’s reach, and instead of looking for the Kaiser’s real agent, he’s arrested S?ren. Meanwhile, whoever actually gave that girl the poison is still out there, and it’s only a matter of time before they strike again. I’m not safe here.”

“No,” she says, voice level. “You aren’t safe here. But you don’t want to be safe.”

At that, I can’t hold back a laugh, but even I am surprised at how biting it comes out. “Are you saying I want to be murdered?”

Her expression remains placid. “I’m saying,” she says slowly, “that you want to be a queen, and that is not a safe role to play.”

“I don’t want to be a queen. I am a queen,” I correct her. “And that is a fact that you seem to forget unless you can use it to your advantage.”

Now it’s her turn to laugh. “Queen of a country that doesn’t exist anymore,” she says. “A queen without a crown, without a throne, without a coronation. What, exactly, do you imagine you’re queen of? Three silly subjects who follow you like a mother duck because a man told them you were special and they were silly enough to believe it?”

I stumble back a step, but she isn’t done.

“I’m trying to help you, but you’re too stubborn and self-important to understand that,” she says, her voice rising. “Gods, you’re just like your mother.”

It isn’t the first time someone’s said that to me, but it’s the first time it’s been an insult.