“She lies,” Sofia said, voice flat and deadened. “I’ve seen the girl work. She has power to twist any path of fate.”

“Sofia,” I said. “You act now on your own volition. Know that I don’t forget so easily.”

Sofia’s eyes were filled with tears. “You cannot tell me you would not do the same. I need him back.”

“So you turn to the man who killed him?”

Sofia winced and looked to the floor.

“There are times in battle we must unite with our enemies.” Davorin stroked the side of Sofia’s face. “She was so willing to do anything for that weakling of a king. I was not surprised to see her again, although I did not expect a vein of seidr to be in your camp.” Davorin looked around dramatically, a forced expression of confusion on his face. “Where is your darling Awakener? I thought you woke him.”

I feigned hurt and turned away. Even sniffled once.

“The Northern Ambassador returned to Etta,” Gunnar said, voice harsh. “He returned with his people. He’s already fought battles.”

“Is thistrue?” Davorin smirked. “I’m not certain I believe it.”

I jolted when in a swift move, Davorin had his fingers curled around my braid. He yanked me against his body. Gorm and Cuyler had blades leveled at him, but I waved them off. Davorin’s mouth inched nearer to mine, his breath heated my face.

“He was so distraught when he saw you broken in our bed.” Tenderly, he pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. I swallowed bile. “Tell me, little raven, were the scars too much? When he took you from behind, when he let you ride him, was all he saw how hideous I made you? Did you think it was love? Or was it power he wanted?”

“He did not want this fight, but he was not like you,” I said with a snarl.

“Oh, I loved you.” He kissed the other corner of my mouth. “I would’ve done anything to keep you to myself, to rule with you. Why couldn’t you see that? Then, tell me why you’re so willing to trade a woman with seidr for a lunatic star seer?”

Gunnar flinched, but held his ground.

This close, I could bite Davorin’s lip. I could kick and thrash against him. I fought to think of Ari’s focus under pressure. I fought to remember this was the move. We knew Davorin would try to intimidate me with his words and touch.

“Princess Eryka is . . . a friend. The girl of seidr writes nothing coherent.”

Davorin loosened his hold on me, a shadow to his gaze. “Seidr is rarely clear, or have you forgotten?”

“I’ve not forgotten, but I want my friend back more.”

He laughed, as though he could not comprehend the words I was speaking. “Your . . . yourfriend. Truly? I bring war, I bring threats, I try to slaughter your precious Awakener. He flees, and you’re here to barterfor a friend.”

“She has ties to the Northern Kingdom,” I said, voice trembling. “I thought if I gave a show of good faith by returning the betrothed of an Ettan prince, then it might . . . convince Ari . . .” I killed my words and looked away.

Davorin laughed in disbelief. “This is for him? Have you truly learned nothing in your long life? Did your frozen little heart remain stunted and romantic as it once was?”

“You arranged this barter; I agreed to the terms. What did you expect?”

“Passion. Threats. Anger. Maybe a little knife play. But no, what I get is a girl in a queen’s gown trying to look brave and valiant.”

I swallowed roughly. “Do we have a deal, or do we not?”

I could not read if Davorin was delighted or disappointed by my lack of fight. He waved to one of the guards. “Bring the star seer. We have no need for her anymore. Not with seidr.”

“I may be naïve to you,” I said. “But I know the rules of a barter. Show me the respect of bringing me forward to your court, so we might put forth our terms officially.”

One corner of Davorin’s full lips twisted. “Now, there is a bit of the fight I love so much. As you wish, my love.”

Davorin opened one arm, guiding me toward the center of the hall where the toppled throne was placed. I gripped my skirt, shaking it a bit, eyeing the cloak near the huddle of corrupted warriors, and strode toward the platform.

I caught sight of a shimmer. Threads of Ari’s illusions were abundant when I knew how to look. I pretended to stumble a bit on the first step, so my hand flew out and touched the glimmer of his fury.

He’d once told me no one’s touch affected his illusions like mine. We were holding firmly to that quirk, but as a failsafe, I hummed softly in my throat. Not loud enough anyone would hear, and I thought over and over again: