Page 107 of A Crown of Deceit & Ruin

They had both been prisoners, it’s just that one of them didn’t realize it.

Abruptly, Elora released Kestrel’s hand and shoulder, the dance done.

“Life isn’t all about fun and merriment. You would already know that if you hadn’t spent your entire life in captivity.”

Kestrel looked taken aback, a frown deepening between her eyes. “I wasn’t a prisoner. Thom took care of me.”

Another haughty laugh as Elora rolled her eyes. “How can you still defend him? After everything you’ve seen. You’ve said it yourself; heliedto you.”

“He didn’t—I mean, he did lie to me, I know that. But I also know he had his reasons. I just haven’t been able to ask him for an explanation yet.”

“What’s there to ask? Blessed moon, he stole you from your own parents and then lied to you about the state of the realm, told you that there was no one living out here anymore, toldyou the kingdoms were festering with monsters, all to ensure you never tried to escape. I mean, he may not have locked you away, but a cage is a cage?—”

“You’re wrong!” Kestrel’s voice was shattered glass, fragile but sharp. Elora could hear the way her words shredded her throat, fighting through a lump of tears just to burst free. But it was the rage that simmered behind her green eyes that gave Elora pause, like she would set the world ablaze if she could. Just like her mother had. “You don’t know him like I do. He was a good father.”

“A good father?” But Elora, too, could wield anger. Hers had been building for nearly half a century. And no longer could she contain it. “He was my torturer!”

The last word shot across the ballroom with the precision of an arrow.

Elora stood tall, proud in her conviction to speak her truth.

That is, until the arrow found its mark, and penetrated Kestrel’s last thread of strength. Her rage snuffed out. All that was left was a lifetime of questions, of doubt, of horror. And Elora watched it all unravel around her.

“Kestrel, wait. I?—”

Kestrel’s eyes glistened like lakes that were ready to overflow.

Elora reached for her, but the princess was already fleeing.

Then she was gone.

And Elora stood in the empty ballroom utterly alone.

Which should’ve been fine—she had spent decades with no one and nothing to keep her company. The loneliness had become a comfort. A reprieve from the pain. One she told herself she welcomed.

Except this time, the loneliness felt unbearable. Weighted down by pity and guilt.

And it infuriated her. She had done nothing wrong. She’d only spoken the truth.

But what she had forgotten in her anger and pain was a crucial truth she and most of the Ashen had wished others had learnt years and years ago: that there were always two sides to every story, and no one was ever just a villain, no matter how much someone claimed them to be.

Chapter 30

A Vision, A Cure

KESTREL

With her fists clenched at her sides, Kestrel stormed down the castle halls. She could feel the steam seeping from her nose. Her enraged huffs echoed down the empty chambers.

Elora didn’t know what she was talking about. She didn’t know Thom. She didn’t know anything about Kestrel and her upbringing, let alone why Thom had done what he’d done. They were all assuming the worst intentions from him without so much as hearing his side of the story—but not Kestrel. Shewouldhear him out. If it was the last thing she did.

No more waiting and biding her time.

If the queen was too ill to train her today, then Kestrel would take her training into her own hands. And if the Sky-Blessed needed blood to invoke her magic, she’d give it to them. All Kestrel needed was a knife.

She blustered back to the dining hall, the only room where she was certain she could find one. At least a dozen knives rested on the dining table. Most were just butter knives with blades too dull to cut skin, but there were a few sharper knivesplaced next to various roasts and meats. Those blades were serrated, perfect for cutting through flesh.

Then Kestrel remembered the dagger Queen Signe had given her. The one that belonged to her mother. Kestrel retrieved it from her belt. She admired the fox carving on the hilt before her eyes dragged along the sharp edge of the blade.

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