A part of me wants to curl into a ball and never leave my bed, but I can’t. My younger sisters need me. My people need me too.
I grit my teeth, roll out of bed, and make my way to the washstand. After I clean myself, I pull on a plain blue cotehardie.
Golden light filters through the windows as I grab a brush and work it through my long hair. Then, I braid it, my fingers moving automatically as my mind wanders.
What is Jasce doing right now? Is he thinking of me too? Planning how to free me from Aleksander?
With a silk ribbon, I secure the end of my braid and stare at my reflection in the looking glass, seeing how haunted my eyes look, how sad.
I curl my fingers around the turquoise ring, drawing strength from it. Jasce and I will be together again. I refuse to believe anything else.
Determined to be positive, I square my shoulders and head for the door with my veil in place. When I open it, Breda curtsies.
“Lady Asha requests your presence in the throne room.”
My stomach drops. Why does Asha want to see me? Is it because of Aleksander? Does he want to use me again?
The doors creak open,and my stomach coils into a tight knot at the sight of Asha perched on our grandfather’s throne, with Aleksander—the bastard—sitting next to her.
Commander Titanus remains near the door, his eyes distant.
Knots tighten in my stomach as memories of those men in the courtyard overwhelm me. Their faces contorted in agony. Skin consumed by flames. Eyes staring into nothingness.
“Annora.” Asha smiles as she holds out her hand toward the empty seat next to her. “Come and sit with us.”
Sit with them?
Kill with them?
I swallow the urge to scream, to shout, to run as fast as my legs will carry me. Instead, I straighten my back and cross the distance between us, settling into a chair on the dais beside her.
“You wanted to see me?” I ask after a moment, my voice steady.
“This is where you belong, Annora. Next to me.” Her eyes meet mine, shining with an intensity that makes my chest ache. “Not against me. Together, we’re the tideandthe ocean. Not one or the other, but the same.”
I glance away from her, pinning my stare on the murals adorning the walls. My gaze lingers on one depicting a great forest, where branches of different trees intertwine.
That’s what I want—to stretch my roots deep into the soil of my family’s legacy while reaching my branches toward House ofCrimson. To stand tall and proud like ancient sequoias, not bend and snap like a sapling in Asha’s storms.
She wants to break apart my roots, make me stay here, and forget all about Jasce, but I can never forget him.
She leans closer. “I know you’re angry with me right now, but you will forgive me eventually. When you do, you’ll see that everything I have ever done has been for your own good.”
“Is it, Asha? Or is it for yours?” I ask, my voice calm and controlled. “I’m not your puppet, and I will not jump because you tell me to.”
She rolls her eyes. “Perhaps not. But remember, you are my sister.Mysister. You belong to House of Silver. If our house asks for you to leap, youwillleap.”
Sadness threads around my chest—such bone-aching sadness. She sounds just like our grandfather, just as controlling, just as bitter.
“Then, you do not want an ocean that stands with you.” Inwardly, I count to ten and find the strength to continue. “You want a shoreline full of sand that you can stomp all over.”
“I forgot how dramatic you can be sometimes,” she says as the door opens, and twenty men and women walk into the room.
They all wear black armor and face masks that conceal everything but their eyes and mouths. They line up before the dais, hands clasped behind their backs, feet planted shoulder-width apart.
Asha glances between me and them. “These warriors are the leaders of the Watchers of the Dawn.”
Watchers of the Dawn?
