Page 88 of Kingdom of Briars and Roses

She’d done it with the last one. But, of course, Callan had no memory of that.

“Heliconia wouldn’t dare attempt to cross our borders,” one of the advisors said. He was the meanest looking of the bunch. And he made no attempt to hide his disdain for me. “She is no match for our army or the king’s guard.”

“She is more than a match,” I said, my voice rising. “As she proved the night she attacked my people—and won.”

“The Summer Court has always been weak,” he spat. “Heliconia proved nothing with her destruction of the powerless. Let her try it here.” Magic sparked from his hands, and I shook my head, realizing he meant for me to be intimidated.

But I’d already seen real power, and it wasn’t in this room.

Neither was common sense, apparently.

I turned to Callan. “I do hope, for all our sakes, your reputation for battle strategy has not been overstated.”

Callan opened his mouth to speak, but another of the advisors cut him off. “None of this is your concern, Your Highness.” The way he said my title dripped with insult. I met his stare, unflinching as he added, “Why don’t you leave Heliconia to us and get back to your gowns and tea.”

Anger slashed through me but I refused to waste any more breaths on these fools. They’d see soon enough what Heliconia was capable of.

Even though they deserved it, the thought of her coming here and doing what she’d done to my own people made it hard to breathe. I looked at Callan, who hadn’t said a word on my behalf.

Rather than apologize or give an inch, he flashed that weaponized smile at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you then.” I gave myself a pat on the back for not burning them all to ash.

Thirty minutes later, Vanya showed me to the royal library but only after I convinced her Callan had approved the idea. When we arrived, I scanned the high-ceilinged room that was mostly taken up by cozy seating areas and a large writing desk. The space was twice the size of the one I’d left behind in Sunspire but with only half as many books.

I swallowed down my disappointment, determined to see this through. The Obsidian had said my alliance with the prince was the key. But if Callan himself was going to be a complete idiot, then maybe his resources would prove to be what I needed.

It was worth a shot.

“Thank you, Vanya,” I said. “I can find my own way back.”

With a hesitant nod, she left me alone.

On a sigh, I headed for the stacks and began my search for anything helpful. From the looks of it, Duron’s collection veered mostly toward Autumn’s historical accounts. Wars, births, marriages—the king was clearly more entertained by his own kingdom’s chronology than that of any of the others. There was nothing on ancient runes, Vorinthian or otherwise.

I’d nearly given up when I found a small section on foreign customs in the back. It looked untouched and forgotten, judging by the layer of dust that coated the shelves. But there were texts for each court and kingdom in Menryth.

Pulling a dusty volume marked simplyVorinthoff the shelf, I cracked the spine and inhaledthe scent of old parchment. Along with the familiar scent, memories slammed into me. Nights by the fire in Sunspire, scanning book after book with Lesha, trying to find some clue about the curse’s origins. The ache of loss was a physical pain. My eyes blurred with hot tears that fell too quickly to blink them away.

I wiped my cheeks and forced myself to refocus. None of that would bring Lesha back.

All I could do was look ahead.

I scanned the pages quickly as I flipped through them.

“An interesting choice,” said a deep voice behind me.

I whirled, nearly dropping the book as my heart threatened to shove through my chest.

Rydian stood smirking at me.

“You scared me half to death,” I snapped, taking a deep breath and willing my pulse to settle.

His expression fell, and he ate up the distance between us in three strides. “What happened?” The concern in his face bordered on violence. When I didn’t answer quickly enough, he gripped my elbow, pressing me back against the bookshelf. “Tell me. Is it Callan? Or did Duron hurt you?”

“No one hurt me,” I assured him.

Shadows leaped from his skin. “Don’t lie to me, Furious.”

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