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Clearing her throat, Elora summoned the grace she once effortlessly carried herself with. “Forgive my boldness, my queen, but my hesitation did not stem from a lack of joy, but from scheming.”

“Oh? What scheming were you pondering, princess?”

Elora swallowed the lump growing in her throat. “Only that of which you would hopefully be agreeable to.”

It was a fool’s game to make a demand of a queen. Yet here she was, doing just that. Jeopardizing her freedom that was still only in its infancy.

The queen’s pitch-black eyes dazzled with intrigue though. “Speak plainly.”

There was no turning back now. Elora sucked in a deep breath and turned toward the queen.

“If they return with Darius Graeme, I would like to be the one to deliver his sentencing.”

The queen watched her silently for a long while. The flames from the candles on the table stood still in time with Elora’s bated breaths.

Finally, the queen raised her goblet higher, a sliver of a smile inching up her pale cheeks. “I could think of no better indoctrination for you, Princess Elora. You shall make a fine queen forIrongate someday.”

Hastily, Elora raised her own glass, and the two of them drank to a strange and budding camaraderie.

And for the first time in years, Elora felt a spark of hope. It would be Elora, a former prisoner, a princess of death, and the future Queen of Irongate who would deliver his punishment. And she would ensure that Darius Graeme rued the day he ever laid hands upon her.

Chapter 4

The Maw of Death

KESTREL

From the outside, their tower seemed smaller than Kestrel remembered. She supposed she had grown a lot since the last time she saw it from this view. Still, it looked too narrow and too short to have contained her entire life inside it.

Not that she was going to dwell on that for long though.

The screeching had stopped by the time she came barreling out the front door, her heavy braid thwacking against her back.

The silence hollowed a pit in her stomach. Kestrel scanned the horizon where she thought she had heard the sound coming from, but there was no movement. No rustling of underbrush. Nothing.

“They’ve just run farther inland,” Kestrel tried reassuring herself. “That’s all.”

But her reassurances were empty. Not being able to hear anything—no shouting or crying, even off in the distance—it made her worry what that would mean for Thom.

Cinching the bag on her shoulder tighter, Kestrel broke out into a run across the open desert, chasing after the unknown.

The Wilds were different than she remembered. Quieter.Untouched in ways that felt impossible. There was no sign of life to speak of. On this side of the trees that were off in the distance, everything was flat and barren. Not so much as a bird in the sky or a cactus in the earth. It made her all the jumpier—every moaning cry of the wind or the sands sent skittering made her neck crane and snap to see if danger was approaching. But every time she looked, there was nothing but the desolate flatlands and the foreboding treeline ahead of her.

No monsters to speak of either though. Anywhere. She’d count that as a blessing.

But Kestrel knew from experience that there could be some just beyond those trees ahead. She also knew that Thom had set up traps all over the area just to ensure none of the creatures would ever venture too near their tower to threaten her safety. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be unlucky enough to stumble into one.

Within a matter of moments, Kestrel’s pace was already beginning to slow.

She wasn’t used to such exertion. Every muscle seemed to protest an insatiable need for rest already. The desert heat had her thirsting for water as well and she pulled the scarf over her head to provide some protection, though it didn’t do much.Nowshe longed for the unpredictable moon, or for the sun to drop down toward the horizon. Anything to relinquish the heat.

Determined not to waste any precious time, Kestrel ignored her inner protests for thirst and rest, and pressed onward.

In just an hour, she reached the treeline only to collapse under the sparse shade it provided. Ignoring her body’s cries was no longer an option. Kestrel fumbled for the waterskin in her sack and gorged herself.

“How do you do this all the time?” she asked Imaginary Thom between gulps.

“It was a necessity.”