Now that she’s dead, her eldest great-granddaughter, Lucere, has made a claim for the throne, and she’s well-backed by her brother, the Prince of Ravens.
Not every member of the Ravenal royal family agrees with that choice, but the Prince of Ravens holds the military and if he backs Lucere, there’s little the others can do about it.
“Do you think Princess Lucere will hold me accountable for her great-grandmother’s death?” I murmur as I ride beside Thiago.
Ravenspire looms over the forest, and a single watchfire in the main garrison looks like an eye watching us as we approach.
He reaches out and squeezes my hand. “She knows you have nothing to do with your mother. Adaia killed Queen Lucere, and it is Asturia who will bear the malice for that act. Not you, Vi. You cannot take on your mother’s sins.”
The Prince of Ravens waits at the balcony as we ride into the courtyard, fae light glittering over the obsidian scales carved into his tunic. Glossy black feathers rain from his shoulders, though I can’t quite see whether they’re wings or a cloak.
“Has to be a cloak,” I mutter.
None of the seelie would ever align himself with an unseelie trait.
“It is a cloak,” Thalia says. There was some argument over whether she should stay in Ceres or not, but they left Baylor in charge. By the time we return, her little spies should have enough information for us. “Though there’s rumor Corvin bears Lucidia’s gift in his blood. They say he owns the ability to both see through the eyes of his ravens and shift shapes. Eris always threatens to put an arrow through any ravens she sees.”
Beside him stands his sister, Princess Lucere, who is angling to replace the title with Queen. My breath catches when I see her gown. It’s pure white, carved of tiny white scales that blink in the night. Gold netting is woven through her blond hair, and the way she’s standing makes the light fall on her just so….
Beside Corvin’s pure black, she’s a glowing moon.
“Ah,” mutters Eris. “There’s the bitch herself.”
“White.” Thalia tsks under her breath. “Always wearing white. Who does she think she is? A maiden of Maia?”
“You’re wearing white.”
“That’s because I look good in white,” Thalia replies.
I gather my mare’s reins. “We don’t like the princess of Ravenal?”
Eris’s eyes thin. “Shall we just say that ravens aren’t the only creatures in the vicinity I’ve threatened to put an arrow through.”
I share a glance with Thalia, but though she goes to speak, she clearly thinks better of it.
“Later,” she promises with a nod toward our audience.
“Welcome to our friends from Evernight,” Lucere calls. She gestures to her retainers, who leap forward to take our horses. “Please come. We have refreshments prepared. And Prince Kyrian is already arrived. He will be joining us shortly.”
Thiago makes a great show of moving to lift me down.
“I can do it myself, you know?”
His hands come to rest upon my waist, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes. “Maybe I just enjoy touching you?”
He lifts me down easily, and as the toes of my slippers touch the ground, I rest my hands on his shoulders.
“I think you’re going out of your way to play the gallant.”
He tucks my hand through the curve of his arm as he turns to face the prince and princess of Ravenal. “Maybe I’m merely enjoying the fact I no longer have to hide my affection for you when we’re in public.”
Nobody’s fooling anybody.
He’d said Ravenal would be a snake pit, so I let him play the surly, protective overlord. “Would you like me to simper at you?”
He laughs under his breath. “What’s that going to cost me?”
“Everything.”
“You already have everything I own. My lands. My heart. My soul.”
Very smooth.
“Prince Thiago,” Prince Corvin greets, though he waits for us the climb the stairs—like supplicants. “I see you’ve made good time through the Hallow. They’re so unpredictable these days.”
“Corvin,” Thiago replies with the tilt of his head. “My condolences on the loss of your great-grandmother.”
The Prince of Ravens’s smile thins. “She is with Kato now. His judgement shall allow her to pass onto the Bright Lands. Or not.”
“And the Princess of Asturia,” Corvin says, his dark eyes glittering as he takes my hand from Thiago’s arm and lifts it to his lips. “Beautiful enough to bring two countries to war and an entire Alliance to the brink of shattering.”
I tug my fingers from his hand with the faintest arch of my brow. “If you knew my mother at all, you would understand I was merely the pawn she used to give herself an excuse to march.”
“And she is the Princess of Evernight now,” Thiago corrects with a dangerous edge to his voice as he replaces my hand on his forearm. “You would do well to remember that.”
“Either way, my beloved great-grandmother is dead, and Ravenal stands without its queen. We do remember that, Prince Thiago.”
His sister, Lucere, claps her hands as if she wishes to draw attention to herself. “Ah, but Corvin…. Great-grandmother would have chided your manners. These are our guests, and we have given them poor welcome.”
Stepping forward, she rests her hands on Thiago’s shoulders and reaches up to brush a kiss to his cheek that manages to completely pretend I don’t exist. “It’s been too long, Thiago. You are most welcome here. And you always will be.”
I look at Eris.
Did she just—?
Eris rubs her mouth and then turns the gesture into a finger drawn sharply across her throat. She, at least, agrees.
“Thank you,” he says, lifting my hand. “Iskvien and I are most thrilled to partake of your hospitality.”
He turns to me, and now I have to pretend the bitch didn’t just practically invite him into her chambers.
“Princess Lucere.” I smile and nod, but I don’t bow.
She’s not a queen yet.
“Princess Iskvien,” she replies. “As lovely as
