“No. It’s left to you, Princess,” she said. “You will do this.”

There was a strange urgency in her tone that made me stop and look more closely at her face. Her pale eye glistened, pinning me to my chair. Insistent.

The platter of bones was set in front of me, and I simply stared at it.

The room grew quiet, hungry, waiting. The Komizar kicked my foot beneath the table.

I stood and lifted the plate of bones and said the blessing in two languages as Kaden had done for me.

E cristav unter quiannad.

A sacrifice ever remembered.

Meunter ijotande.

Never forgotten.

Yaveen hal an ziadre.

Another day we live.

I paused, the platter trembling in my hands. There was stirring, waiting for me to finish, but I added more.

E cristav ba ena. Mias ba ena.

A sacrifice for you. Only for you.

And so shall it be,

For evermore.

Paviamma.

A rumble of paviammas returned to me.

The hunger of the Council and guests quickly overtook any notice of the added words, but I knew Rafe had noted it. He was the last to echo back paviamma to me as he looked down at the table.

The meal seemed to rush past. I had hardly taken a bite when the Komizar pushed back his seat, satisfied. “I have some news to share with you, Emissary.”

The clatter of the meal stopped. Everyone wanted to hear the news. My stomach churned with the small morsel I had eaten. But it wasn’t the news any of us expected.

“Riders from Dalbreck arrived today,” he announced.

“So soon?” Rafe asked, casually wiping grease from the corner of his mouth.

“Not the riders I sent. These were Rahtan who had already been in Dalbreck.”

Rahtan with news. My hand slid to my side, inching down for Natiya’s knife in my boot before I remembered it was gone. I eyed the dagger sheathed at Calantha’s side.

“It seems there may be some truth in your story. They brought news of the queen’s death of a widespread fever, and the king hasn’t been seen in weeks, either in mourning or on his deathbed as well. I’ll assume the latter until I hear more.”

I sat back and stared at Rafe. The queen. His mother.

He blinked. His lips half parted.

“You look surprised,” the Komizar said.

Rafe finally found his voice. “Are you sure? The queen was in good health when I left.”

“You know how those scourges are. They ravage some more quickly than others. But my riders witnessed a rather impressive funeral pyre. Those royals are quite extravagant about such things.”

Rafe nodded absently, silent for another long while. “Yes … I know.”

The pain of my utter helplessness surged through me. I couldn’t go to him, couldn’t hold him in my arms, couldn’t even offer him the simplest words of comfort.

The Komizar leaned forward, apparently noting Rafe’s reaction. “You cared for the queen?”

Rafe looked at him, his eyes as fragile as glass. “She was a quiet woman,” he answered. “Not like—” His chest rose deeply, and he took a drink of his ale.

“Not like that dried-up bastard she’s saddled with? Those are the toughest ones to kill.”

I watched the steel return to Rafe’s eyes. “Yes,” he said, a frightening smile on his lips, “but even the tough ones die eventually.”

“Let’s hope sooner rather than later, so your prince and I can strike our deal.”

“It won’t be long,” Rafe assured him. “You can count on that. The prince may even help matters along if he has to.”

“A ruthless son?” the Komizar said, his words dripping with admiration.

“A determined one.”

The Komizar nodded his approval of the prince’s pending patricide, then added, “For your sake, I hope very determined. The days do tick by, and my distaste for royal schemes hasn’t diminished. I graciously host his emissary, but not without a price that must be paid. One way or another.”

Rafe managed an icy grin. “I wouldn’t worry. You’ll be repaid tenfold for your efforts.”

“Very well, then,” the Komizar answered, as if pleased with the bounty promised, and motioned for the dishes to be cleared away. In almost the same breath, he ordered more drinks to be poured. The servants came forward with the expensive vintage of the Morrighese vineyards, one never shared beyond personal gifts to the governors. I chewed my lip. I knew what this meant. No, not now. Hadn’t he shared enough news for one day? Hadn’t Rafe heard enough for one night?

But then he twisted it into something even worse—he made me tell them. “Our princess would like to share some news too.” He stared at me, his eyes chiseled stone, waiting.

My muscles were loose, wobbly, drained of strength. It felt as if I had already walked a thousand miles, and now I was asked to walk one more. I couldn’t do it. I wanted to stop trying and cease to care. I closed my eyes, but a stubborn flame that couldn’t be doused still burned.

Convince them. Convince me.

When I opened my eyes, his gaze was still fixed on me, and I met his marble stare. He commanded a marriage, which in his own words meant many more freedoms, but more freedom also meant more power—something he hated to share.

His eyes grew sharp at my delay. Demanding.

And maybe that was the deciding prod in my ribs, as it had always been.

Another mile. For you, Komizar. I smiled, a smile he surely thought was by his order. I’d give him his marriage, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t turn some fraction of this moment to my advantage, and fractions of moments after that, until they added up to something whole and fearsome, because with my last dying breath, I would make him regret the day he ever laid eyes on me.