The ink on the page had dissolved into a meaningless script hours ago. My gaze drifted past the gilded edges of the book to the window, where the afternoon sun hung high and golden, a silent mockery of the gloom in my chambers. A restless tap from my fingertips against the polished oak of the desk was the only sound. How much longer?

Then again, they had a city’s worth of witnesses to question. I was merely the last person my father wished to see. I dragged a hand through my hair, my head falling heavy into my palm. With eyes closed, I rehearsed the litany of lies, tasting each one on my tongue until it felt like truth.

A sharp, brutal knock shattered the quiet. Not a summons, but a demand. My heart kicked against my ribs, a panicked, frantic rhythm. It was time.

Before I could draw breath to answer, the knock came again, followed instantly by the deep groan of the door swinging inward. Two guards filled the frame, their hulking forms seeming to devour the light and air in the room.

“Princess. On your feet.” The voice was flat, bored.

“Yes, of course.” I rose, my limbs feeling like poorly fitted doll parts. I pitched my voice to a near-whisper, the practiced timbre of a frightened girl. “Is there… something you need?”

The second guard shouldered past his partner, his face a mask of granite. “I need you to stop talking and start walking.”

“I—I’m sorry.” I bowed my head, letting my hair fall to conceal my face. One day, they will not speak to me this way. One day, they will beg.

“Did I give you permission to speak?” he snarled.

I flinched, a calculated, theatrical movement. My eyes found the patterns in the marble floor as I made myself smaller, trailing in their wake like a ghost.

Whispers followed us down the long gallery, clinging to the tapestries like smoke. The news had spread faster than the fire itself—the entire south side of Tirilla, a smoldering ruin. I caught snippets as we passed a pair of maids, their polishing cloths frozen mid-air.

“…who could have done it?” one murmured, her voice a thread of sound.

The other shivered, her gaze darting into the shadows. “I can’t imagine. What kind of monster…?”

The guard behind me grunted, a sharp prod between my shoulder blades urging me on. I kept my eyes forward, a cold, secret coiling deep in my gut.

I am that kind of monster.

Scornful looks and hushed words pursued us to the end of the hall. Good. The whispers were only of fire. No one spoke of the Crescent Moon Theater. They’d kept its destruction quiet, which meant my performance of ignorance would be all the more believable.

We stopped before the massive, gilded doors of the throne room. The guard’s voice boomed, a hollow announcement. “Announcing Princess Thalia!”

As the doors groaned open, he leaned in, his breath a hot, sour gust against my ear. “Keep your mouth shut unless you’re spoken to,” he hissed, his voice thick with malice. “You’ll annoy His Majesty far less than you annoy me.”

It took every ounce of my control not to recoil. “Thank you for the counsel,” I murmured, offering a slight, submissive bow of my head. His lips curled into a sneer before he shoved me forward.

I stepped into the cavernous space. Far across the expanse of polished marble, my father sat on his throne, a predator carved from stone and velvet. His hands gripped the arms of his seat as if he meant to splinter the wood. Beside him stood Blair, a curtain of jet-black hair hiding her face as she whispered into his ear.

With each step, my heart hammered a frantic beat against my ribs, a counterpoint to the click of my heels on the floor. A prickle of warning crawled up my neck. I could feel the raw hatred radiating from the throne, but there was something else. A cold, dissecting gaze. I risked a glance.

There, half-swallowed by the shadows behind a pillar, was Kaelen. His eyes, chips of obsidian, were locked on me. The moment our gazes met, a chill that had nothing to do with the hall’s draft shot down my spine. A slow, knowing smile spread across his features.

I snapped my focus back to the floor, halting a respectful distance from the dais. “Greetings, Your Majesty.” I sank into a deep curtsy, holding the position as the silence stretched, thick and suffocating. My muscles began to burn.

Finally, his voice cut through the stillness, sharp as shattered glass. “You may rise.”

I rose with practiced slowness, keeping my gaze lowered.

“Have you been indulging in rumors, Thalia?” my father asked. His voice was deceptively mild, a calm sea before a storm. He steepled his fingers beneath his chin.

I manufactured a tremor in my own voice. “I… I overheard the staff, Your Majesty. On my way here.”

“And?” The single word was a thunderclap in the hall.

“That there was a fire,” I stammered, letting my voice fade as if in fear. “On the south side of Tirilla.”

He let out a short, brutal laugh that held no humor. “Gossiping fools. Which brings me to you. Do you know why I have summoned you?”

“No, Your Majesty. I do not.”

From the side of the throne, Blair snickered, a sound like silk tearing. “Of course she doesn’t. The girl is an empty-headed doll.”

My father silenced her with a glare before leaning forward, his knuckles white. “Where were you yesterday, Thalia?” His eyes burned into me.

“I was in my chambers, reading,” I said, wringing my hands. “Then I… I went to the library. I must have fallen asleep. A maid woke me late in the night.” She nearly bruised my arm shaking me awake, I added silently, a flash of irritation cutting through my performance.

“Ignorant, just as I told you,” Blair purred, placing a delicate hand on the King’s arm. “I cannot imagine why you entertained Kaelen’s ridiculous suspicions.”

The King patted her hand, his expression softening for a bare moment before it hardened again, the calm shattering. “Someone destroyed the Crescent Moon Theater!” His voice was a roar of pure fury that echoed off the high ceilings. “When I find the wretch responsible—” He raised a fist and slammed it onto the arm of the throne. The crack of splintering wood was shockingly loud in the ensuing silence.

Kaelen glided from the shadows, his movements fluid as poured ink. “Your Majesty,” he said, his voice a silken counterpoint to the King’s rage. “Perhaps it is too early to dismiss the princess so readily.”

“Do not question the King’s judgment,” Blair snapped.

I allowed a visible shudder to run through me, digging my nails into my palms until they bled. My father’s glare swept over me, and he shook his head in disgust. “Look at her. She can barely stand upright. You believe this creature could orchestrate such a thing? Don’t make me laugh.” His gaze shot to Kaelen. “Know your place. Any good fortune she has stumbled upon is merely luck. Though,” he added, a cruel glint in his eye, “she should consider herself far luckier than Dolion.”

Dolion? My mind snagged on the name. What happened to Dolion? I crushed the question before it could betray me. Focus. Information would come in time.

My father’s gaze fell upon me again, heavy with a familiar disdain. “I have seen more than enough of you for one day. Continue to do as you are told: stay out of my sight.”

“Yes, Father,” I murmured, bowing low.

“Get out.”

I turned without another word, my shoes clicking a lonely rhythm on the vast marble floor. Each step was a mile. I could feel Kaelen’s eyes on my back, a physical weight. I reached the heavy doors and pushed, desperate for the anonymity of the hall. The gap narrowed, the throne room faded, their voices dimmed…

A hand shot out, slamming against the heavy oak, stopping it inches from closing with a deafening thud.

“Thalia.”

I spun around. Kaelen stood in the gap. He stepped through, letting the door click shut behind him, plunging the entryway into shadow.

“Don’t for a moment think I am fooled,” he said, his voice a low murmur that slid under my skin. He closed the distance between us until I had to crane my neck to meet his gaze. “You have changed,” he continued, leaning down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “And I do not like things I cannot understand.”

His whisper was a cold thread of ice against my skin. My breath caught in my throat. It took everything I had to keep the mask of frightened confusion from shattering into a thousand pieces.

“Kaelen!” my father’s voice roared, muffled by the door.

He pulled back, a ghost of that chilling smile touching his lips. “I am summoned. Do try to enjoy your books, Princess.” He turned and slipped back into the throne room, leaving me alone in the sudden silence, the echo of his threat colder than any stone in the castle.