LOGINElira's POVThe capital was five days away, and every one of them was a negotiation.We traveled in a long, slow caravan. The royal carriage at the head, with the Queen and Kael and me. Behind it, Ronan's carriage, with Mother and Selene. Then Bastian's, then the baggage wagons, with the gray guards riding in a tight ring around all of it and Cassian at the rear, silent as a shadow. Theron rode beside my window, sometimes. He didn't speak. He only kept pace, and every time I glanced out, he was there.By the second evening, I'd learned that a princess was mostly a person other people measured."Stand up straight, my lady," said the seamstress.She was a small, brisk woman named Marta whom the Queen had summoned from the capital by fast rider, and she had followed us by express coach to the waystation where we'd stopped for the night. She stood on a stool beside me with a measuring tape around her neck and a mouthful of pins, and she regarded my shoulders with open disapproval."I am s
Elira's POVWe left at dawn on the third day.The courtyard was a chaos of carts and horses. Trunks were strapped, harness buckled, grooms shouting over the stamp of hooves. The gray guards sat their mounts in a tight ring around the royal carriage, and beyond the gates, the crowd in the lane had thinned to a hard, curious core that watched every movement with bright, patient eyes.I stood beside the carriage steps with a single small bag at my feet.It was absurd, how little I owned. A change of clothes. A hairbrush. A letter I'd folded and refolded and still hadn't answered, from a woman who loved me. My old list, flattened between two pages of a book. And the ugly gray folder from the prison, which I'd packed without quite knowing why.I'd been told I could bring anything I liked. A King's escort could carry whole rooms of belongings.I'd found, standing in my little guest room that morning, that there was almost nothing I wanted to take."Elira."I turned.Cassian stood a few pace
Elira's POVBy midnight, the estate had become a fortress.I watched it from the window of the west wing, with the curtains pulled back an inch. Torches flared along the outer wall. Cassian's men walked the gate in pairs, their breath smoking in the cold. Beyond the iron bars, a ragged crowd had gathered in the lane, a few dozen at first, then more, villagers with lanterns, merchants who'd ridden up from the south road, a cart driver with a boy beside him. They weren't angry. They were *curious,* which was somehow worse. They stood there with their faces tipped up toward the house, murmuring, waiting for something to appear.I let the curtain fall."They'll be there at dawn," Kael said quietly behind me. "And twice as many by noon.""I know.""It's my fault. If I'd been more careful with the guards, if I'd kept Mother out of sight—""Kael." I turned. "A girl guessed. That's all. If we'd locked the Queen in a cellar, someone would have guessed that."He gave a short, rueful breath. "Yo
Elira's POVI didn't give her the old answer.I didn't give her a new one, either. Not exactly. I sat there on the carpet with her cold hand in mine and tried to find the truest thing I could say, and what I found was smaller and stranger than either."I'm still going to build a life of my own," I said.Her face flickered. I felt her fingers tighten, and I held on."I need you to hear that. I'm not going to pretend otherwise, not even now. I don't want to be handed a place and told to fit into it. I've spent too long being what other people needed. I want to make something myself, with my own hands, in a place I've chosen." I drew a breath. "That hasn't changed. I don't think it will.""I understand," Mother whispered."But I don't want to leave the way I planned."She went still."When I first came home, I thought I'd finish what I owed you and walk out the gate and never look back. That was the whole of it. A clean door, shut behind me." My voice wavered, and steadied. "I told mysel
Elira's POVI couldn't answer her.Not because I didn't know. Because I knew too many true things at once, and none of them would fit into a sentence a frightened girl on a stool could bear to hear."Selene," I said gently. "I'm going to answer you. I promise. But not today, and not here."Her face twisted. "Elira—""Mother needs us." I looked down at the small, cold hand in mine. "And I owe you a real answer, not a quick one. You deserve that, even now."She stared at me for a long moment. Then she nodded, once, jerkily, and pressed the back of her wrist to her mouth.Ronan was already moving. He crossed the carpet and crouched in front of her stool, and when she flinched, he didn't reach for her. He only waited."Come with me," he said quietly. "Please. We'll walk. You don't have to say anything.""I can't—""I know."He held out his hand and left it there. After a long moment, Selene took it. He drew her to her feet, and she went with him like a sleepwalker, her shoulders shaking,
Elira's POVI chose the morning.Not because it was easier. Because Mother was strongest in the mornings, after her tonic and before the fatigue crept in, and because I wanted her to hear it with a clear head and a warm cup in her hands. If she was going to be told something that would change her life, she deserved to be told well.Ronan stood at my shoulder. He'd asked, the night before, whether I wanted him to speak, and I'd said no. I wanted him there. That was all. He'd nodded and said nothing else, and in the morning he'd come to my door early, dressed and steady, and walked beside me down the corridor without a word.The Queen and Kael waited in the west wing. I'd asked them to. This part was mine.Mother's sitting room was bright. The curtains were drawn back, and thin autumn sun lay in long bars across the carpet. She sat in her good chair by the window with a shawl around her shoulders, and Selene sat on the stool at her feet, a book open on her knee. They looked up together







