Anna woke to raised voices. They ran over and under each other like tangled yarn, pulling tight in places.
"She needs a blanket."
"It won't help."
"She's shivering."
"She has a fever." The voice was terse. "I've been through this exact same thing before. What she needs is an ice cloth and dream somnium—"
A bark of laughter. "Fuck off, Delafort. You're not going near her with that stuff."
"Quiet. Both of you." A female voice. "You'll wake her."
Anna shifted, her head sinking into something soft. A pillow? The pounding in her head had turned into a dull ache. A sharp pain lanced through her chest, and she sat upright, coughing hard. Her hand came away silver.
Someone sucked in a breath. "Burning stars."
Anna blinked.
The room swam into view. The pale blue walls came first, followed by gauzy white curtains. Several dreamcatchers fluttered in the breeze. They must be at the Hillsbrook house, Anna realized; Celeste loved making dreamcatchers.
She pulled her knees into her chest. Three figures were gathered around her bed: Seraena, Kane, and Ryne. The boys were dirty and bruised, smelling of sweat and mud. Ryne was sporting a bandage on his shoulder.
"Oh, good." Her voice was a croak. "You're both still alive."
"That was quite the dramatic exit," Ryne said.
She lifted a weak shoulder. "I like to keep things interesting."
"How do you feel?" Kane asked.
He was standing several feet away from Ryne, his arms crossed over his chest. Pain lanced through her skull. Anna winced.
"Like shit," she said.
Kane nodded at the empty phial on the bedside table. "Mum gave you something for the pain. She can't, however, do anything for the curse."
His voice was short. Surprise flitted through her, and she looked to Ryne.
"You told them?"
Ryne shrugged. "There's no point in keeping it a secret anymore."
No, Anna realized; she supposed there wasn't. Lucia was free of the Portrait Room. And anyway, keeping secrets hadn't served them very well so far. She rested her chin on her knees, trying to ignore the sharp pain under her ribs.
"Where's Teagan?" she asked.
Kane flopped into a chair. "With Mack and Alfie."
"They're feeding the dragons," Seraena added. "In the salt caves."
Kane took out a polishing cloth He was looking at Ryne very deliberately as he ran the cloth over his knife, as if he was imagining cleaning the weapon on the other boy's organs instead. Exasperation filled her.
"Can you give Kane and I a moment?" Anna asked.
Seraena and Ryne hesitated. It was hard to say who looked more reluctant to leave, Anna thought wryly. She leaned back against the headboard.
"Someone should check on Teagan," Anna said. "She runs circles around those boys. They don't stand a chance."
Seraena and Ryne exchanged a glance. This, Anna knew, was the one thing they agreed on: keeping Teagan safe. In the last week, Seraena had become a de facto guardian to the younger girl; they'd gone dress shopping, and baked pineapple loaf, and even rode a dragon (Ryne had been so worked up that day that Alfie offered to sedate him).
Seraena loved Teagan.
Which was why Anna added, "And you know what Teagan's like. She's probably smuggling dragon eggs out under her shirt."
Seraena turned for the door. "Good point. I'll make sure she takes the best ones." She raised an eyebrow. "Delafort?"
Ryne sighed, trailing her out of the room. Anna waited for the door to shut before turning back to Kane. A rush of fondness filled her.
"She's bonkers," Anna announced. "I love her."
Kane lowered the knife. "Wish I could say the same for Delafort."
His blue eyes were the colour of crushed wildflowers, so pigmented that they stained your thumbs. She thought of Kane kneeling on the dais, his voice speaking those words: Ryne Delafort is a god amongst men. A knot formed in her chest.
"I'm sorry for what happened on the beach." She shifted under the covers. "Ryne can be an arsehole sometimes."
The cloth paused. "Do you love him?"
"What?"
Kane's eyes were fixed on the knife. "That's why you're taking on the curse, right? Because you love him."
Surprise flitted through her. "Did Ryne say that?"
"Not in so many words." Kane put the cloth on the table. "But it doesn't take a genius to connect the dots."
Anna studied the pale blue wall. "It's complicated."
"You've really changed, you know," Kane said. "The Annie that I knew would have killed Delafort by now."
Anna met his gaze. "The Annie that you knew was a fourteen-year-old with rage problems and a fringe." The messy knot in her chest tightened. "I'm still me, Kane. My goals haven't changed."
He looked away, his jaw working. "How can you stand to be near him?"
"He's not his father," Anna said.
"No." Kane's voice was harsh. "No, he's much worse. He ordered his guards to hunt down Nightweavers. He butchered them." His grip on the knife tightened. "What he did on that beach... Anyone with that much power needs to be on a leash."
"I have that much power," Anna said coolly.
"You're different," Kane said. "You always have been."
Anna shifted. When she spoke, she chose her words carefully. "I'm not saying that Ryne Delafort is a good person. He knows that he isn't. But he's smart, and he's loyal, and he cares for his people." She picked at a loose thread. "Many great rulers can't afford to be good people."
"I hate him," Kane said.
His voice was plain. But there was something about the way he was holding the knife that made a shiver run down her spine.
"You don't know him," Anna said.
"And I don't need to." Kane's mouth tensed. "He's a Delafort, Annie. A godsdamn Delafort. He murdered my brother." He plunged the knife into the table; the handle quivered from the force of it. "And now you want me to act like we're friends?"
Anna dropped the thread. "I never said that."
"He killed Rourke." Kane's face was dark. "Have you forgotten that?"
Irritation pricked at her. "You're acting like an arse."
"Well, have you?"
Something in her snapped. "I think about Rourke every godsdamn day of my life. At night, I dream of his smile. His laugh. I had to watch him die, Kane." Her voice caught. "I had to watch as the axe fell, and the crowd cheered, and the look on Rourke's face right before he—" She broke off, her chest pumping. "You don't get to accuse me of being apathetic. Not about Rourke."
Silence fell.
Anna cradled her head in her hands. She could feel herself shaking, smell the rotten pears and hear the squelch. The knife was still quivering in the table, growing out of the wood like some strange, night blooming flower.
She took a breath in.
Blew the air out.
"I'm sorry." Kane's voice was quiet. "I shouldn't have said that."
Anna nodded.
"But Annie..." Kane shifted. "There's only one throne in Wynterlynn. And when this battle's over, Ryne Delafort isn't going to step aside so that you can sit on it."
She looked up. "I know that."
"You have to be prepared to turn our forces against him."
Something in her hardened. "I'll do whatever I must to protect our people. You know that."
"Good," Kane said. "I—"
The door flew open.
Seraena and Ryne stormed into the room. There was red soil on their boots, and Seraena was clutching a large envelope. Anna sat upright.
"What is it?" she asked. "What's happened?"
Seraena's mouth was a line. "We've had news."
"From Wynterlynn?" Kane half-rose from his seat. "What does it say?"
"I don't know," Seraena said. "I haven't opened it yet." She looked at Kane, and her expression softened. Just a fraction. "I don't think it's good, though."
Kane frowned. "Is it a black seal?"
Seraena nodded. She must have seen the confusion on their faces because she added, "Black represents mourning."
Anna swallowed. "Open it. Please."
Seraena unfurled the letter. The only sound was the ticking of a clock and the faint tinkling of the windchimes. When Seraena looked up, her eyes were hardened amber sap. "It's as we feared. Lucia has taken possession of Camille DuFleur's body."
Ryne moved closer. "What else?"
Seraena's gaze roved over the lines. "This must be a mistake."
"What does it say?" Anna asked.
Seraena lowered the letter. "My scout reports that you're dead."
She was looking at Ryne. For a moment, nobody spoke. Anna could hear her own pulse thundering in her ears. Ryne met her gaze, and she could tell that they had both reached the same conclusion.
"Lyra." Ryne blew out a breath. "My gods."
Anna shook her head. "She wouldn't have—"
"To secure her son's future?" Ryne cut in. "Yes. She would have."
Kane held up a hand. "Can someone explain what's going on?"
Ryne touched a finger to his temple. "I employed a shapeshifter to pose as me during the wedding ceremony. I needed a stand-in while I went to the tower. It seems that Lucia has killed her."
"And now people think you're dead," Seraena said.
Ryne inclined his head. "Apparently so."
Anna frowned. She could see the wheels in Ryne's mind turning, see him moving pawns and bishops and kings around a mental chessboard. Seraena scanned the letter, her mouth growing tighter. Something icy settled in her chest.
"There's something else, isn't there?" Anna asked.
Seraena's mouth was a flat line. She didn't need to speak; it was written all over her face.
"Well?" Anna sat up. "What does it say?"
Seraena crumpled the letter. She turned, her shoulders stiff. "I'm sorry, Ryne. Your mother's dead. Lucia killed her."