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“I think not,” Lila said, her voice cracking with emotions she’d held back for too long. “Since I’ve arrived here, I’ve seen Captain Teegar of the King’s Guard—a lord himself—bespelled and imprisoned. I’ve seen strangers attacked and tortured for trying to find their kin. There are graves in the woods no one cares to explain, and despite the fact Rafe is innocent of any crime, he is still a prisoner.”

Ademar studied her face but said nothing. His hand dropped from her elbow with an air of defeat.

“This is fae politics,” Lila continued. “I hate it, and I moved away so that I didn’t have to deal with it. That decision stands. I refuse to play the game.”

“What about Father?” Ademar asked.

Guilt tugged at her like a strong current, threatening to pull her from her feet. “I want to help. I would shed blood to free him, but I have no confidence anything I do would make a difference.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I, and that’s the problem. I’ve been patient. I’ve held my tongue about whatever you and Mother are up to, hoping you’d tell me everything in good time, but that time has run out.” She took a deep, shaking breath. “No one is giving me the complete truth. With so many unanswered questions, how am I supposed to make a real choice? There is asking for my help, and then there is entrapment. I won’t be coerced.”

“Listen.” With sudden ferocity, Ademar pushed her.

“Ademar!” She stumbled backward, too surprised to react.

“Listen.” He shoved her again.

Lila fell into a sitting position on the bed. He towered over her, the walking stick clutched in both hands. His mouth pinched into a hard line, betraying his anxiety.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice husky with outrage.

“You need to wake up before it’s too late.” His knuckles whitened where he gripped the cane, as if clutching it was all that kept his temper in check. “You want the truth. Here it is. Lord Farras has all the cards. We’re in no position to deny him anything. If you have to sit and simper at him tonight, you will do so.”

Lila gulped back bile. She felt as if the floor had suddenly opened and she was falling down, down into an inky pit. “I don’t belong to him. Or you. Or Mother.”

“Father ended your betrothal because you were too young. Now you’re grown and Father is not here.”

Her heart pounded, making it difficult to hear. “That doesn’t change anything.”

She sprang from the bed, dodging around her brother to lunge for the door. As she swept past the bureau, a porcelain vase went smashing to the floor. The explosion of shards stopped her in her tracks, leaving her to stare at the jagged pieces scattered over the floor.

“Calm down, Lila,” Ademar said softly. “We’re putting on a good show for Lord Farras, that’s all.”

“You’re asking me to tempt him until he gives you what you want,” she said, her mind racing so hard her thoughts were almost blank. There was too much to re-evaluate all at once. “If Farras takes your bait, you can’t take it back. You can’t take me back.”

Ademar was silent. Her throat ached with tears, but she refused to let them fall.

“I thought you loved me enough to protect me,” she said. “I thought Mother did, and Sala. We were different people, but we were family. I could trust you.”

Her brother still said nothing.

Nausea rolled through her like a foul tide. “But Sala was part of this, wasn’t she? She asked me to come here to make sure you were all right. And I came, Ademar. I came for her and for you.”

Ademar looked at the door, as if expecting someone to enter. Or maybe he couldn’t meet her eyes. “She didn’t have a choice.”

Lila bent and began picking up the tiny shards. It was habit. If she left them, someone might be hurt. “Do you have a choice?”

Leaning on his walking stick, he turned to watch her. “Don’t cut yourself.”

She caught and held his gaze. “Do you have a choice? Would you save me if you could?”

His mouth worked for a moment. “What do you think?”

He flung himself toward the door, stumbling in his haste. He grabbed at the handle, rattling the knob as he got the door open. For a long moment, he stood suspended on the threshold, as if he had more to say. But with a sigh, he staggered forward and slammed the door behind him.

Lila jumped at the sound, slicing open her palm so that blood ran into the fine creases of her hand. The crimson transfixed her as it spread like liquid fire. Noble blood. Blood kin. Magical bloodline. Is that all that matters? What about who I am?

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