“You have deceived Malakai and betrayed him!” I screamed. “You have betrayed the Mystiques, and you will die for it, Lucidius.”

He grinned, giving his son a knowing look, and a spark of unsettling glee lit his expression. “Betrayal? Oh, she does not know, does she?”

“What don’t I know?” I looked to Malakai, but he cast his glance away. “What don’t I know, Malakai?” I repeated in a whisper meant only for his ears.

But it was Lucidius who replied, “I did not deceive Malakai at all. Perhaps I did not know about the torture, but Malakai and I struck a deal. He knew about his half-brother and my allegiances. I told him before the end of the war. He was aware of my plan, signed the treaty himself, and he knew that when he left for the Undertaking it was to be a sham. Malakai left that day understanding that he would never return to Palerman.” He took a step toward me and lowered his gaze. “That he would never return to you.”

As it had the day Malakai walked away, my world tilted. His guarded behavior before the Undertaking, my mounting suspicion, and the reluctance I felt in letting him go…it had all been right.

Lucidius knew where to strike to hurt me the most. My grief, my rage…none of it had been a secret among our people, surely not those close to my family. He knew for two years what Malakai’s disappearance had done to me. And he knew now what this revelation of Malakai’s choice to leave would do, the wedge it had the power to form between his son and me.

I pushed away from Malakai slightly, still careful to support his weight, but far enough to breathe my own air. “Is it true?”

His nod didn’t just tilt the world on its axis. It flipped it upside down. Never would I have believed that, given a choice, Malakai would have hidden these deeply spoiled truths and walked away from me. I could not have done so from him. We did not hide harsh realities from each other; we never had secrets. Or so I thought.

My North Star…his voice wove in and out of my mind. But he had not come back to me.

“Why?” I fought tears as this fresh sting of betrayal settled in my heart, shattering every sealed-over crack I’d worked so hard to heal.

“Ophelia.” His voice cracked. “I didn’t have a choice. I was saving lives, ending the war. And beyond that, he—they—threatened you. If I didn’t agree to silently disappear, they would have killed you.” Each word was punctured with the threat of tears.

“But you—” I fought to form sentences. “You chose to leave. You didn’t tell me.” My life may have hung in the balance, but it meant nothing to me without him.

He tried to bring a hand to my face, but I dodged it. “What choice did I have? If anything had happened to you, I couldn’t have lived with myself.”

I only shook my head, his choice unfathomable. I had spent two years searching for him. had risked everything to get here—the journey across Gallantia, the tundra, the near losses of our friends.

And he had lied.

“Oh, don’t get angry with the boy.” I had forgotten Lucidius’s presence entirely. “It was his sacrifice that kept you alive. If he had told you, we would have taken you both.” He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “You were a far greater prize than Malakai, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, voice shaking.

Malakai’s knees buckled. I gripped him tighter to support him, but he felt foreign against me—like the lie had changed him.

“Surely, you’ve put it together by now, haven’t you? Or was I mistaken when I said you were smart?” Lucidius took slow steps toward me, watching me work through his words. There was nothing but pure malice in his gaze.

I was a prize. They wanted me either dead or remaining oblivious in Palerman, but not informed in any sense. Why? What pawn was I in their game? Was it that they wanted me safe in Palerman until the day I could be of use? That was likely the day they’d have killed me, regardless of any deal Malakai signed. I was willing to bet that they would not honor their word once it served them otherwise. They got Malakai out of the way and had me distracted and grieving, a lamb waiting to be led to the slaughter.

My mind swirled with pieces of everything I had learned, but the answer to his question felt like it hovered right in front of me.

“Malakai is not a full Mystique Warrior,” Lucidius continued, laying out pieces of the puzzle, trying to tease me into solving it. Still, with his son hurting beside me, Lucidius treated this as a game.

“Neither am I,” I admitted. “My maternal grandmother, she’s not Mystique.”

“And that small segment of your blood, combined with Alabath blood, is what makes your existence so delicious, Ophelia.” He was close now, his face only a foot from mine. I could see the shadows swirling behind his eyes, tainting his soul. It was much too close for comfort, but I was frozen.

He looked at a point above my shoulder. “Haven’t you wondered why that spear works so well for you?” The golden tip reflected in his dark eyes, gems sparkling.

“How did you—” The energy of the spear flared deep within me. “Did you send it to me?” The thought of him so close in the clearing that night when I was sick made me shiver.

“No.” Lucidius shook his head. My relieved exhale was short-lived, because he continued, “That was not me, but after everything I’ve told you, you can’t truly believe that we weren’t watching you. We knew when you decided to complete the Undertaking. We knew about the little guest in your room the night of your birthday, and the affliction to your blood. Though, that seems to be cleared up. Unfortunate for me, as it would have made my job so much cleaner.”

Damien. The Curse. Lucidius knew about it all.

“Who do you think sent the rogue Engrossians after you?” He smiled with malice. “When you threw the spear through that warrior’s skull, everything I suspected was confirmed.”

My heartbeat pounded faster with each word. At this proximity, I could smell his sweat and greed, but I would not be the one to back down.