Myles sat in a chair, glaring down at the Drurus soldier on the floor. The young man, Harlan, was hunched over, greedily eating the crusty bread Myles had been chewing on not ten minutes prior. His face was smeared with crumbs, and he downed the bottle of ale, as if it was the first drink he’d had in days.

  Myles crossed his arms, glancing briefly at Willie. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, tapping his fingers impatiently against his knee. Every so often, Willie looked at the door, as if expecting someone to burst in. But the only sound and movement in the room was of Harlan eating.

  After another agonizing minute, Myles lost his patience. He stood to his feet, snatching the half-empty bottle from Harlan’s hands and yanking the rest of the bread away.

  “Alright, you’ve had enough,” he said in a low voice. “Now talk. What happened at Jux.”

  Harlan coughed, quickly swallowing the last bite of bread. He wiped his hand across his mouth before taking a shaky breath. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, looking nervously between the two men.

  “We were told to prepare for the Sylvaris army to come from the east,” he began as he furrowed his brows. “Ambush groups were stationed along the road, and a messenger was supposed to ride back to the city when it was time to attack.”

  Myles exchanged a glance with Willie. That didn’t sit right with him. The people in Onlon had said their soldiers marched north toward Vespera—not east toward Jux.

  “From the east?” Myles questioned. “Why would you think they’d come from that direction?”

  “Couldn’t say,” Harlan shrugged. “My captain never gave a reason, and none of us dared to ask.”

  “If they didn’t come from the east, where did they come from?” Willie interjected with an arched brow.

  “The south,” Harlan answered as his voice dropped. “They were so close to the city… I didn’t even know we were fighting until the catapults fired.”

  “What do you mean you didn’t know you were fighting?” Myles demanded.

  “I-I don’t know,” Harlan stammered. “Someone shouted that the Walford soldiers had arrived. Then, before I could even think, we were in the middle of a battle.”

  Willie cursed under his breath.

  “They must’ve hit Reece’s city first,” he muttered, rubbing his chin. “Then they took the Walford armor and marched north in it. No wonder your scouts didn’t see them.”

  “Rhett always did know how to make a dramatic entrance,” Myles snorted dryly, though his tone had little humor.

  “It wasn’t just the Sylvaris army that attacked us,” Harlan added as he shifted uneasily. “The townsfolk broke out of the city and joined in.”

  “And that wasn’t all,” he continued. “After a while, we heard this horn blowing from the far side of the field. I couldn’t see where it came from, but others said it was another army—from the west.”

  “The west?” Willie repeated as he looked over at Myles. “I thought you said the Drurus army was supposed to bring hundreds of soldiers.”

  “There were just over eight hundred of us,” Harlan admitted, dropping his eyes to the floor. “But we were blindsided. We didn’t stand a chance.”

  Myles started to pace the room, grumbling to himself in the process.

  “You were unprepared,” he said. “Caught with your pants around your ankles. It’s the same damn thing Rhett pulled on us when the people rebelled against the crown.”

  “No wonder they need our help to distract Rhett,” Willie commented with a small smirk. “So, let’s help them out and get the dragon to come back home.”

  “Calm yourself,” Myles frowned. “Let’s think about what we’re going to do first before you get all hard over killing the girl.”

  “What’s there to think about?” Willie countered as he arched a brow. “We walk in, you tell them the good news about the battle for Jux, and once we’re alone with Amara, I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “Oh, brilliant plan,” Myles scoffed, narrowing his eyes. “Because the two of us can just waltz into the castle like we belong there. Have you already forgotten that not only will Amara recognize you, but so will her family?”

  “Not if I wear this,” Willie replied smugly. He walked across the room and over to the corner where their bags were piled. Willie knelt down, yanking open the largest one. He pulled out a set of Walford armor—chestplate, leggings, and a helmet.

  They had taken the armor after leaving Reece’s city. Under the cover of night, it had been easy enough to get into Onlon. The guards at the gates were too careless to notice the Earl’s insignia and let them pass without a second glance.

  “I will wear this armor,” he continued. “With the helmet on, no one will know who I am. And you can do all the talking. Just sell yourself as Rhett’s loyal man and get Amara alone. Think you can manage that?”

  “Of course I can,” Myles replied with a confident nod. However, in his mind, he thought the plan was reckless. But at this point, they didn’t have any other option.

  He turned his gaze to Harlan, who was still seated on the floor. The young soldier had been silent, staring at the food Myles had taken away.

  “You best be going now while it’s dark out,” Myles said firmly. “Once we deal with the queen, they’ll lock this city down. There won’t be another chance to leave.”

  Harlan swallowed hard, his face pale.

  “What—what are you going to do?” He stammered, scrambling to his feet. “If they shut down the city, how will you escape?”

  “This isn’t our first war, kid,” Willie said with a low chuckle. “Myles has walked these streets for nearly a month. He knows every crack in the walls, every gap in the patrols. Don’t worry about us. Worry about yourself.”

  “And if I were you,” Myles added, stepping closer to Harlan. “I’d head east to Drakenthorne. At least there, you can wait out the war among allies. The roads back home are filled with Sylvaris soldiers.”

  Harlan hesitated before reaching for the door handle. Without another word, he left the room in a hurry, not looking back.

  Myles approached the castle gates, forcing himself not to fidget. Though he had agreed with Willie that this plan was their best chance to reach Amara, his stomach twisted anxiously. Each step forward made the back of his shirt cling uncomfortably to his skin due to the sweat. He couldn’t shake the feeling that, at any moment, they would be found out.

  From the corner of his eye, he glanced at Willie. The man wore the Walford armor well and even had a strip of black cloth covering the lower half of his face. Only his eyes and hands were visible, making him indistinguishable from any other soldier returning from the field.

  Myles forced his eyes forward as they neared the gates. His hands itched to wipe the sweat from his palms, but he resisted. He had to look composed. Calm. Convincing.

  A line of guards shifted, with several of them stepping forward. One man drew his sword, looking over the two men.

  “State your business!”

  “I am Myles of Greenatch,” Myles answered, raising his hands just enough to show he was unarmed. “I come bearing news from the battle of Jux. His Majesty’s orders.”

  The guards exchanged uneasy glances. Myles took their silence as a chance to continue.

  “Are you waiting for me to produce some grand invitation?” He snapped. “This soldier and I rode our horses for three days straight until their legs gave out. We haven’t eaten. We haven’t rested. But we have a duty—a victory to report to the Queen. And I’ll be damned if you keep me from relaying the news!”

  Myles held his breath, half expecting the guards to see through his facade. But instead, their postures shifted, and the one with his weapon drawn gave a curt nod.

  “Stand aside,” he ordered his men. Without further argument, the gates opened. Myles felt relief wash over him as he and Willie stepped through.

  A young soldier, barely older than a boy, approached.

  “I’ll take you to the Earl of Apathle.”

  “The Earl?” Myles repeated, furrowing his brows in confusion. He knew of Kieran and had even met him once while in Casshire. What Myles didn’t know, however, was how much Kieran knew about him.

  “Yes,” the guard confirmed with a nod, oblivious to Myles’s hesitation. “The lord and the Queen’s father, Sir Westin, receive all news from the front. If you have something to report, it goes through them.”

  Myles forced his expression to remain neutral, though his mind raced.

  “But we need to speak with the Queen directly,” Myles argued, though he was careful not to sound too insistent.

  “You’ll have to take that up with the Earl,” the guard replied as he glanced at the men. “I don’t make the rules.”

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  “Of course,” Myles said, nodding quickly. “My apologies.”

  The guard turned, leading them down toward the castle. Myles stole another glance at Willie, but his companion remained silent.

  The castle’s front hall was large, with tall stone pillars and banners along the walls. Myles barely had time to look around before they were ushered into a small sitting room.

  “Stay here,” the guard instructed. “I will find the Earl and Sir Westin. Please, sit and rest. I’ll have someone bring refreshments and food.”

  He didn’t wait for a response before stepping out and shutting the wooden door behind him. Myles exhaled as his shoulders sagged. He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees.

  “Pull yourself together,” Willie hissed. “You look like you’re ready to piss yourself.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Myles muttered under his breath. “You’re hidden behind a helmet, keeping quiet like some stoic knight. If you think—”

  He stopped abruptly as the sound of hurried footsteps echoed on the other side of the door. Myles straightened, his heart pounding. The door opened, revealing a tall, older man dressed in fine clothes. His graying hair was neatly combed, and his beard looked freshly trimmed.

  Myles dipped into a bow, with Willie following suit.

  “My lord,” Myles greeted. “I don’t know if you remember me, but my name is Myles, and—”

  “I remember,” Kieran interrupted as he extended his hand. “You were one of the rebel leaders who worked with Rhett. I met you once, along with… Joel, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, Joel,” Myles confirmed, though the Earl’s memory startled him. He took the man’s hand, shaking it. “And this is Pete, a soldier from Walford.”

  Willie inclined his head slightly.

  “My lord.”

  “So, does this mean Rhett succeeded at Walford?” Kieran inquired as he glanced between the men.

  Before Myles could respond, the door opened once more, and a servant entered carrying a silver tray containing a pitcher of wine, several glasses, and a few plates of food. Myles forced his gaze away from the servant, feeling uneasy.

  “Shouldn’t we wait for Sir Westin?” He questioned as politely as he could. “We were told we’d be meeting with both of you.”

  “Westin is in town at the moment,” Kieran replied, waving dismissively as the servant set the tray down. “He won’t return until this evening. You can tell me what you know, and I’ll relay the news.”

  “Well, we did succeed in taking back Walford,” Myles began before clearing his throat. “And then we moved north, attacking Jux. I’m pleased to say we were able to drive out the Drurus army and reclaim the city.”

  Kieran’s brows lifted in shock.

  “We’ve taken back both cities? How?”

  “Oh, well,” Myles faltered, rubbing the back of his neck. He struggled to recall the few details Harlan had told them and had to piece together the story in his memories quickly. “We tricked them… wore Walford armor. They thought we were allies.”

  “That’s clever,” Kieran remarked with an approving smile. “A deception like that must have caught them off guard.”

  “Very much so,” Myles nodded quickly, forcing out a laugh. “It was quite the sight.”

  “Well, thank you for traveling all this way to deliver the news,” Kieran said, sighing in relief. “You both must be exhausted. Why don’t you rest? Get baths and some sleep. The castle is yours for as long as you need it.”

  “We appreciate your kindness,” Myles said, exchanging a brief glance with Willie, who remained motionless. “But we would also like to speak with Her Majesty, the Queen.”

  Kieran’s smile faltered, replaced with a stern expression.

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. No one outside her inner circle can see the Queen.”

  Myles stiffened as his mind raced. They had come too far to be turned away now. He started to panic, thinking desperately for a reason—an excuse. Then it hit him.

  “Well,” Myles began, carefully reaching into his pocket. “I understand your concern. But I have a letter from His Majesty, and Rhett was very specific that I am to deliver it to her directly.”

  He pulled out a small, weathered piece of parchment. In truth, it was nothing more than a crudely drawn map of the castle grounds. Myles held it out, hoping the tremble in his hands wasn’t too noticeable.

  Kieran’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the parchment, though he never took it. Myles swallowed hard, thinking the Earl saw through his lie. He could already imagine the guards dragging him and Willie away in chains. But then, Kieran sighed.

  “Fine,” he relented. “But you must not, under any circumstances, relay any information to her. It is imperative we keep her calm. Stressing her could endanger the pregnancy.”

  “Of course,” Myles nodded quickly, tucking the fake letter away. “We would never want to cause her any undue stress. Just a moment to deliver the letter, perhaps wait for a reply, and then Pete and I will be on our way. You have my word.”

  Kieran looked at them for a moment longer before finally nodding.

  “Come,” he said, turning toward the door. “Let’s find out where Her Majesty is.”

  They walked down a corridor, with the Earl looking into every room they passed. After a few minutes, they encountered a young woman holding a book. Willie stiffened immediately.

  “Ah, Elara,” Kieran greeted. “Where is Her Majesty?”

  “She’s at the greenhouse,” the girl answered. “Do I need to get her?”

  “No need,” he replied, shaking his head. “These men have a letter for her from Rhett. Where are Stella and Molly Rose?”

  “Stella’s down in the kitchens,” Elara said. “Complaining about the lack of roasted duck.”

  “Of course she is,” Kieran muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And Molly Rose?”

  “She went to lie down. Said she wasn’t feeling well,” she answered.

  “I see.” The Earl’s jaw tightened, though his frustration wasn’t directed at her. He turned briefly to Myles and Willie. “Elara will escort you. I must see to getting the news out about Walford and Jux.”

  “Of course, my lord,” Myles said, bowing slightly. Willie nodded his head but remained silent.

  “This way,” Elara smiled, pointing down the hall. “The greenhouse isn’t far.”

  Kieran stepped aside, allowing them to pass. Myles could feel the Earl’s stare until they finally turned a corner—only then did he allow himself to take a deep breath.

  Elara led them through the castle until they reached a set of double doors that opened to a courtyard. Two guards stood at the entrance, resting their spears at their sides. As the doors opened and they stepped outside, Myles turned to Elara.

  “Why don’t you wait inside, miss?” He gave her a reassuring smile. “We can see the greenhouse from here, and we wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”

  “Oh, um,” she hesitated. “Are you sure? The Earl asked me to—”

  “It’ll be fine,” Myles assured, lowering his voice. “I’ve met Her Majesty several times before. I’m just here to deliver Rhett’s letter and wait for her reply. That’s all. There’s no reason to worry. I wouldn’t dream of telling her about the fighting. I swear.”

  “Well… alright,” Elara relented softly. “But I’ll wait just inside the doors.”

  “Thank you.” Myles resisted the urge to exhale in relief. “We might be a while. I’m not sure what Rhett wrote in his letter. It could be something emotional, or it could only take a minute.”

  “I understand,” she nodded.

  Myles smiled and briefly patted her head before turning toward the greenhouse. The glass structure was at the end of the courtyard, and each pane was covered in a thin layer of misty water. Willie fell into step beside him. Once he was certain Elara had gone inside, he leaned in.

  “Stand guard at the door and keep an eye out for anyone else,” he murmured. “I don’t see any windows facing the greenhouse, so you’ll just need to watch for people passing.”

  “With all this snow on the ground, I doubt anyone’s out for a leisurely walk,” Myles muttered.

  “Just keep watch,” Willie hissed in a low voice before removing his helmet. He passed it over before stopping at the door. Through the misted glass, he could see a woman at the far end.

  Taking a deep breath, he reached for the handle. Carefully, Willie pulled it open just wide enough to slip inside while Myles stayed behind. The air was humid, and the scent of damp soil filled the air. Amara stood with her back to him, leaning over two pots.

  Willie took a step forward, being careful not to make a sound. At first, he smiled at the sight of Amara, but soon it turned into a grimace.

  “Hello, Ami.”

  Amara’s body stiffened. The voice sent a shiver down her spine. She didn’t turn and instead squeezed her eyes shut, hoping it was just an illusion.

  “Aren’t you going to look at me?” Willie questioned bitterly. “Or are you too good for that now?”

  Amara swallowed hard, trembling as her hands fell to her side. Slowly, she forced herself to turn, locking her eyes on his.

  “Willie…” she whispered, barely able to find her voice. “What… what are you doing here?”

  “Did you miss me?” He arched a brow. “Because I’ve thought about you. Every single day. About your betrayal. And about what Rhett did to my family.”

  “Willie, please—”

  “Don’t you dare deny it!” Willie snapped, stepping closer. “My family died in our home, Amara. Burned alive. The doors were boarded shut. They had no way out!”

  Amara’s back hit the table.

  “Willie, listen to me,” she pleaded as tears welled up in her eyes. “Rhett wasn’t even in Casshire when it happened. He couldn’t have done that.”

  “Maybe not with his own hands!” Willie spat. “But he made it happen. He gave the order!”

  “No, that’s not true!” Amara tried to argue.

  “How long did you wait?”

  “Wait?”

  “How long did you wait before you spread your legs for him?” Willie demanded. “You’re practically about to give birth. So how long was it, Amara?”

  “I-I don’t think—”

  “How long?!”

  “It was during the spring progress!” She sobbed as she tried to shrink away from him. “It happened months after—”

  “So six, maybe seven months?” Willie scoffed. “Hugh was right about you. You’re a whore.”

  “Willie!” Amara gasped. “No… what Rhett and I did, it wasn’t out of lust. We love each other.”

  “So you never loved me?”

  “I did,” she choked out as the tears fell freely now. “Until you tied me up. Until you hit me. You stood there and let that man beat me like I was nothing!”

  “All you had to do was give Hugh the ring!” He shouted, his voice echoing across the greenhouse. He took a step forward, his eyes burning with rage. “We could have gone on, lived our happy little life. But I see now—you never wanted to be with me. The moment you tasted luxury, that’s all you cared about.”

  Willie gestured wildly toward her, as if the gown she wore was a personal insult to him.

  “And now look at you—a queen. Isn’t this everything you wanted?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Amara said, stepping to the side as her eyes looked at the door. Every muscle in her body screamed for her to run, but Willie moved with her, blocking her path.

  “I didn’t want this,” she insisted. “I never wanted to be queen.”

  “Sure… Keep telling yourself that while you sit on your golden throne. While the people who actually suffered rot in the ashes Rhett left behind.”

  “Please,” she whispered. “Just let me go, Willie. I won’t say anything. I swear.”

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  His hand shot out, gripping her arm in a tight hold. He yanked her closer, but in a desperate attempt to get free, she reached out for the nearest object—a small clay pot. With all her strength, she smashed it against the side of Willie’s head. He let out a cry, staggering back as blood dripped from the gash above his eyebrow.

  “You little—”

  Before Willie could recover, Amara rushed toward the door.

  “Help!” She screamed.

  “Shut her up!” Myles ordered from outside the glass.

  Willie jumped forward, grabbing her once again. They struggled, Amara thrashing with every ounce of strength she had. She cried out again desperately, but Willie’s hand slammed over her mouth, muffling her screams.

  Just then, a voice called from outside.

  “Myles? Is that you?” It was James, who had been out gathering firewood. “Is that Amara in there? Is she alright?”

  Amara struggled beneath Willie’s grasp, eventually biting his finger. Willie cursed, yanking his hand away in pain.

  “Help!” Amara screamed once more.

  James heard it clearly this time and started running toward the castle.

  “Help!” He shouted as Myles chased him. “Help! The queen’s in danger!”

  Myles nearly grabbed James, but he stumbled within a few seconds.

  “Damn it! Hurry up, Willie!” He shouted in panic.

  Willie looked up at Amara, who was struggling to open the greenhouse door. He cursed to himself before desperately rushing toward her. Before she could react, he drew his sword.

  The blade went into her back. Pain erupted through her body, stealing the air from her lungs. Amara stumbled forward, finally gasping as the tip of the sword emerged from her swollen belly.

  Her hands reached down, trembling against the blood-soaked dress. Blood… so much blood.

  She collapsed to the ground, unable to stop her face from hitting the floor. As she struggled to swallow the blood in her mouth, Amara’s attention turned to the babies in her belly.

  She could still feel them kicking beneath the pain. Were they afraid? Could they feel her fear? She wanted to comfort them, to tell them it would be alright. But the words wouldn’t come. Tears burned the edges of her eyes as the pain spread.

  Amara sobbed into the ground as the world around her grew darker. She was unable to hear the people running toward her or the yelling as guards chased after Myles and Willie. All she could do was think about the babies and about how sorry she was for not keeping them safe.