Chapter 3

The winter hunt blessing had filled Rose Palace with celebration that day.

Father and Mother had gone to the temple, leaving the two of us behind. Rowan arrived at the North Tower in a new heir's cloak, Father's silver sword hanging at his hip. He looked every inch the future king everyone believed he would become.

He stood in the doorway for a long moment. "Do you hate me?"

"Why would I?"

"Since you lived, everyone keeps saying the things that should've been yours will pass to me."

I poured warm milk and pushed the cup toward him. "I never wanted to fight you for anything."

He watched the steam instead of drinking. "I hated you sometimes."

The confession landed harder than Mother's hand.

"Father gave you the first pony. Mother gave you Grandmother's sapphire. Whenever I asked why, they said it was because you were dying." His eyes turned bright. "When I was little, I used to wish your birthday would hurry up and come."

Before I could answer, he ran.

A few minutes later, the North Tower door locked from the outside.

I called his name, thinking he only wanted to avoid what he had said. No one answered. Then the warning bell boomed from the White Tower.

It meant disaster.

I pounded on the door and shouted for the guards, but all I heard was the distant thunder of running feet.

Rowan had gone to the celestial stables to prove he deserved Father's white stag more than I did. Instead, he chose an unbroken winged hart, a royal tribute from the northern mountains, and tried to ride it before the winter hunt.

The terrified beast burst through the colored windows at the top of the White Tower. Rowan was thrown down the spiral stairs. His leg shattered, and half the tower came down around him.

The North Tower door finally opened at dusk.

Mother stood outside with Rowan's blood on her gown. She didn't ask why I had been locked in.

Her palm struck my face first.

"Why didn't you stop him?"

The blow sent me into the wall. "I was locked in here."

"And who else would lock this door?"

"Rowan did."

"Shut your mouth. You must have said something to him—something that disturbed him, something that made him careless. This happened because of you!"

She lifted her hand again, but Father arrived before it fell. He had seen the ruined tower and Rowan lying unconscious on a litter. He also saw the mark on my cheek.

He didn't ask what had happened.

He seized my shoulders and dragged me back into the room. "This kingdom hasn't known peace since you survived."

"I didn't do anything."

"What else do you want Rowan to pay for?"

He shoved me inside and ordered the guards to seal the windows and bar the door.

"No food. No water. Not until I say otherwise."

As the door closed, Rowan opened his eyes on the litter.

He saw me. He heard Father's order.

Then he gripped his cloak and turned his face away.

Snow fell that night. Wind slipped through cracks in the stones, and I curled on the narrow bed with my cheek burning and my body shaking from cold.

By morning, fever had taken hold.

At some point, I heard Mother's steps outside. I dragged myself close enough to the door to whisper, "Mother, it hurts."

Her footsteps stopped.

For one foolish heartbeat, I believed she would come in.

Then they moved away.