Mag-log inOn a whim, I try to roll him over, not expecting the iron cage of his arms to so much as shift. But he flips easily with a soft noise of surprise. I pull back, worried.“Apologies.” He smiles ruefully and taps the bandage on his face—on the side I rolled him to. “I think this will take some getting
“Oh.” I glance at Amval. Cirocco waits by his shoulder, clearly about to demand something similar. All the pressures of life suddenly descend back into place. With Kaloni dead, Amval has no rival for the crown. There’s going to be a coronation and then months of cleaning up what happened here. I’m g
Ingrid“The Goddess’ will is often far more complicated than any of us can guess,” Halit says, blood streaked on her cheek from the arrow she took to the shoulder before fleeing the altar.Laughter ripples through the temple. I know, from my second march up here, that the healthy hold up the wounded
And that is his mistake. The heartbeat he wastes on gloating gives me just enough time to slash at his unprotected throat, tearing through fur and old scar tissue.Blood waterfalls onto me, hot and fast. I wriggle out of the way before he crumples. Dead.Or at least it seems so. My halved vision mak
Amval“She will never be ready to marry my brother!” I shout as I storm into the packed temple, a sword lifted high above my head and a trail of allies collected from every corner of the palace behind me.Gasps ripple through the crowd, buoying my name forward. Ingrid turns, her jaw falling slack. T
I suck in a breath through my gritted teeth as Halit intones about the complexities of fate, how perhaps Amval dying was all part of Her cosmic plan for Cirocco and I to end up together. Maybe it was part of Her cosmic plan for me to punch a holy woman in the mouth.No. Joli is counting on me. Light
“I shall keep my name.” Vedran cuts him off smoothly, a testament to the time they’ve spent together. “You might be called Milo. It is an unoffensive name that transverses borders.”“Milo.” Elian nods thoughtfully. “Milo, the leatherworker. I take your goods and turn them into something usable, Sila
Xandra“I approach Tarrin from the southwest”, Vedran says the next day. “With Beta Elian in tow.”I nearly drop my quill. Sanja, the weaver for whom I’m penning a letter to her family still in Tansy Beach, looks at me questioningly. Finn braces around the log he’s hauling a few feet away.“Our frie
And I know. Miralyn, the palace healer, absolutely told her to stay in bed. Right on the timeline Hana suggested, I’d bet. And not only did Xandra ignore that, she didn’t even bother to tell me she was ignoring it.“Take one of these every day.” Hana shakes a small pile of pills onto a clean fabric,
“Fought who? Everyone obeys you here.” I gesture at the empty room—nearly empty, that is. Finn stands slightly to the side, his hands in his pockets, clearly trying not to intrude.“The other lords are not so subservient,” she replies crisply, then shakes her head. “What has your father told you abo







