Burn of the Everflame

Chapters 1-8

Luther swings the axe, splits another log. Auralie tells him it is supposed to work off his anger, not make it worse. She says they can probably hear him growling from Lumnos. Her tone is stern, but concern lives in her eyes. Luther is still getting used to seeing Auralie Bellator as an ally instead of the greatest threat to his life.

Four weeks have passed since Luther and Teller escaped the island and flew on Sorae's back to the Guardians' camp in Montios. Luther is certain Auralie will skin him alive for leaving Diem behind. Instead, she takes pity on him. He let Diem down again. Every day without her reminds him how badly he failed the woman he loves. His guilt has darkened to rage.

Auralie says they will get her back. Luther says he is sick of waiting. She says they will act when the time is right. Luther argues they have been sitting for a month. She says it took weeks to move everyone to Arboros. The move is also to protect Luther. Diem's birth father, Ophiucae, inherited the Crown of Omnos, the long lost tenth Kindred. He rules the Forgotten Lands, where the Guardians' old camp was. If he found Luther in his realm, Luther doubts his relationship to Diem would persuade him to spare him from his quest to massacre every Descended. Messenger hawks arrive with news of his movements. Ophiucae has stepped up his onslaught. Every week, more Descended die and more Descended children go missing. Though Ophiucae has left Lumnos untouched so far, it is only a matter of time.

Auralie reminds him she sent out a call for all Guardians to join them. New mortals arrive every day. Luther argues that a few hundred people is not an army. Auralie tells him not to lecture her, Prince. She earned her titles fighting Descended with mere mortals alone. The air chills between them. Luther turns his face north. He left a piece of himself in that Temple and will only be whole again with Diem in his arms. He forces out an apology. Auralie says she knows he is worried about her. She is too. Luther says no matter how often this world tries to tear Diem down, she always finds a way to survive.

Luther drops the axe and rubs his thumb over the etched case of the whirring golden compass, a gift to Diem from the Meros King. Ever since Diem went to Coeurile, the compass has slipped into an aimless spin. Luther tells himself that as long as its arrow continues to move, Diem is still trapped. Once it stops spinning, that means she is free. The second that happens, he will go get his Queen.

Auralie says the realms are under siege. The ports are barely functioning. The Emarion Army is a mess. Since Diem has the Fortos Crown, no one can agree on who has authority to command it in her absence, and every battalion they send to face Ophiucae never returns. She pulls a small ceramic jar from a pouch and hands it to him. Inside is a vibrant scarlet balm. Flameroot. Auralie explains the Guardians brought a supply from the island. She says it is a salve, not a tea. Her son thinks it might have the same effect when applied to a wound. If Diem smears this on a blade and strikes Ophiucae, it could stop his magic long enough for them to kill him. Luther asks if Teller made this for her. Auralie looks pained. Her reunion with her son was tender, but once he learned how much she kept from her family, things strained. She told him it was for Diem. Luther asks if it is for Diem or if it will end up on the tip of every Guardian weapon. Auralie shrugs. That is up to Diem to decide. It was Teller's condition to telling her.

She asks if he is certain it works. Not yet. They need to test it. She was hoping Luther might be willing. No, he snaps. She says she thought he said there was nothing he would not do for Diem. He warns her not to challenge him on what he would do for her daughter. He would drive a blade into his own heart if it would help her. Diem could escape at any moment. He will not risk leaving her to fight alone. Auralie says she will not be alone. Luther says he watched his guards take their final breaths after burning alive at the hands of the mortal she left in charge in Lumnos, the same man who ran him through with godstone.

Luther says even if he wanted to help, he cannot. He does not have his magic outside of Lumnos. That is not entirely true. His magic occasionally returns in random, temporary bursts, a fact he has kept to himself. Auralie asks if he gets his magic back, will he let her test it then. A familiar prickle of energy tingles in his chest. His magic sparks to life. He knows what a sign from Blessed Mother Lumnos looks like. For whatever reason, she wants him to help Auralie. The Luther of a month ago would have obeyed without a second thought. But ever since losing Diem, for the first time in his life, when called on by his patron goddess, he says no. He tells Auralie he will think about it. He tucks the jar into his pocket instead. He says he is going to check on Sorae.

Auralie tells him he can bring her closer to camp. Luther asks if she is going to dismantle her ballista and burn the godstone bolt. No response comes. Then Sorae will stay where she is. Auralie says his name. He says no. Auralie says a messenger hawk arrived this morning. She holds out a scrap of paper. Vance is in Lumnos. Luther's blood goes cold. Visions of a burning palace fill his mind, the imagined screams of his sister Lily ringing in his ears. He asks if Ophiucae is with him. She shakes her head. He only brought Francis, his third in command. They are recruiting for Ophiucae's army. Vance and Ophiucae have formed an alliance, bonded by their shared wish to see all Descended dead.

Luther asks what happens if they do more than recruit. Auralie says they agreed it was a risk they had to take. Lumnos is well fortified. Luther says so was Fortos. Now half the city is rubble. Auralie says her offer still stands. She can have her people get his sister and bring her here. Luther cuts in. No. Keep her people away from Lily. Lily is no safer here than in Lumnos. Auralie says very well. Luther tells her to tell him if she hears more. If Ophiucae gets anywhere near Lumnos, he wants to know.

Luther finds Sorae at the coast with Teller, who sits on a boulder holding a fishing rod. Teller says his magic is back again. Luther asks what makes him think that. Teller says his eyes get brighter. The same thing happened to Diem when she stopped taking the flameroot. Teller asks if Luther told his mother about his magic. No. Teller asks if he does not trust her. Luther pulls out the jar with the flameroot balm and says it seems Teller does not either. Teller's expression darkens. She tried to test it on him, did she not. Luther says she asked. He declined. He tosses Teller the jar.

Teller says he already knows it will work. Luther knows Teller is a damn good fighter himself. Though he refused to officially join the Guardians, on his darker days he wanders into the sparring rings. His technique is impressive. He turned eighteen a fortnight prior. The timid boy Luther first met in the dungeon has grown into a man, an angry one. He carries the guilt of lives lost on his shoulders, a burden Luther understands.

Teller mumbles that he asked his mother why she sent him to the Descended school. He knew the answer. He just wanted to see if she would admit it. He used to wake and see her taking his notes from his desk. He thought she was curious, paranoid maybe. It turns out she was using him to plan a rebellion. Luther asks if she admitted it. Teller says she said it was for him and for the Guardians. And for Diem. He would have done it for D. He could have helped her understand her magic if his mother had just given him a choice. He throws the jar into the sand. Sorae nuzzles his leg.

Luther stretches out his palm and calls forth his godhood. His arm trembles with the effort of holding it back. Find her, it growls. Free her. Save her. Touch her. His godhood has always been defensive of Diem. After she took the Crown, he thought he had his answer. She was the grey eyed Queen that Lumnos had commanded him to serve. But it is not until the day he storms into a spare palace bedroom to stop her from sleeping with the mortal Henri that he sees the truth. His lust has become something more, and his devotion to Diem has far exceeded the Blessed Mother's command. FIND HER, his godhood snarls again.

Luther wrestles his godhood into submission. The jar's outline wobbles

Chapters 9-15

Auralie Bellator sits across from the five Crowns of Emarion. The war council has dragged on for an hour. She lays out demand after demand: all nine realms reopened to mortals, laws distinguishing Descended from mortals repealed, mortal governors elected with equal authority, equal admission of mortal children to schools. The Crowns meet each proposal with huffs and eye rolls. Sophos protests mortals are unqualified. Faunos calls two captains on one ship madness. Ignios sneers and coughs, flakes of poisoned skin falling at his feet.

Luther has been silent until now. He tells them he is Descended, raised in this palace with more privilege than anyone should have. He has traveled the realms and met thousands of his people. What he learned is that they have lost their humanity. They are kind only to those who obey, generous only to those with something to offer, caring only when it costs nothing. If Ophiucae does not kill them, they will destroy each other, because hunger for power is never sated. The mortals can teach them what they forgot: there is more to life than control.

Arboros avoids his eyes. Meros's stare turns thoughtful. Ignios suggests giving the mortals the mountains. The bickering resumes until Meros pounds the table. When he asks if these are all of Auralie's demands, she laughs. They have only begun. She wants Descended mansions built on stolen land returned or a fair price paid. When Faunos snorts that next they will want their firstborn babes, Auralie seizes on it: they demand reparations for half-mortal children too. The Crowns erupt. Luther watches her and understands why Diem is so compassionate. He sees who showed her the way.

The Fortos Vice General demands to know what the Guardians offer that his army cannot. Auralie points out he has yet to win a battle. She asks Alixe whether a war can be won by retreating alone. Alixe, ignoring her father's warning stare, admits it cannot. Auralie reveals the Guardians hold the Meros port and island, have informants in every palace and active members in every realm. She tells Ignios she has people in his realm too. He sputters that there are no mortals in his borders. Auralie says thankfully, some of his own believe him a poor leader. His poisoned glare swings to the man and woman beside him, whose faces pale. Luther suspects the claim is a lie, but the doubt has been masterfully sown. Auralie adds they have informants in Ophiucae's army, that they know when and where he will attack. The Descended only know how to fight with magic, relying on shields that will not work against Ophiucae. The Guardians have fought without magic for centuries. They know how to win.

Sophos asks how they know the Guardians will not join Ophiucae. Auralie's voice goes cold. The air chills as she declares her heart belongs to her husband, Andrei, now and always. Ophiucae deceived her once, and it will not happen again. When Sophos asks whether the Guardians are willing to kill their own, Auralie turns to Cordellia. After a long stare, she says many who joined Ophiucae lost loved ones at Descended hands. They lived in poverty with no escape and want the Crowns to feel the same pain. She cannot blame them. But she cannot agree that genocide is a solution. A future is possible where they live as equals. If the Crowns accept their demands, the Guardians will help them. But they will need a weapon currently in the Crowns' possession. The Vice General refuses to arm rebel scum. Eleanor speaks up, telling him the mortals are offering help and he should show respect. Luther knows it is Diem's influence. Sophos demands silence from the Vice General and Remis. Luther's father bristles at being dismissed.

When Meros asks what weapon they want, Auralie raises her chin and says: her daughter, Diem. The room goes quiet. Sophos says carefully that is not an option. Auralie pushes to her feet, declares the meeting over, and moves to leave. Luther rises to follow, and Cordellia does the same. Sophos panics and begs for a moment to discuss. Auralie stops but hovers near the exit. Sophos huddles with Ignios, whose face is ashen with poison yet oddly amused. Arboros argues they should consider it. Faunos protests that Diem has four Crowns and will slit their throats for a fifth. Arboros reminds her that Ignios is the one who slits throats, a crime he has yet to answer for. Faunos says he is answering, thanks to Yrselle. Meros says Arboros is right: they gambled and lost, and it is time to try something else.

Eleanor asks why the Crowns are asking for Diem's return if she is supposedly in hiding with the Guardians. Silence falls. Luther watches the perplexed faces, including the Vice General and his own father. He suddenly understands why Doriel was so flustered at seeing him and Teller. The Crowns assumed they died on the island. They spun a web of lies believing no one lived to expose them. Luther tells them to either tell the truth or he will. Auralie interrupts: her daughter never left the island. The Crowns trapped her there because they are cowards who fear her power. Luther palms the spinning compass in his pocket. Still there. Still alive. His father hisses at Sophos, asking if they lied to him. Luther explains that Doriel manipulated them all, betrayed them after Diem saved their city, used her brother to trap her on Coeurile, and cost the life of an innocent guard. He jabs a finger at them, promising they will pay for that death. Sophos insists no one was supposed to get hurt. Luther snaps that they left all three of them to die. His father demands to know if Sophos tried to kill his son. Sophos shouts that they did what they had to do to protect their people. Auralie challenges them: if saving their people is more important than anything, then trade Diem's freedom for their lives. Sophos's anger ebbs to hand-wringing unease. Meros says Auralie is right, they have no choice. Sophos insists they cannot. Auralie declares the meeting done and turns to leave again, but this time Luther does not follow.

His focus is stuck on Ignios, whose laughter grows louder and wilder. The black veins of godstone toxin writhe on his skin. He rasps that they cannot give Luther what he wants. When Sophos tries to hush him, Ignios sneers that there is no sense hiding it anymore. If they will not make a deal without the girl, it is over. Luther's godhood stirs. He takes a step forward and asks why. Ignios's cracked lips curl high. He says the Lumnos bitch is dead. He is the one who killed her.

The Compass Spins

A high-pitched ringing fills Luther's ears. The room darkens. He hears the distant wail of a gryvern but thinks only of the compass spinning and spinning with no stop in sight. Not because it cannot find her, but because there is nothing left to find. Arboros breathes Ignios's name, her hands flying to her mouth. Meros gapes at Sophos, demanding to know if this is true. Sophos grimaces. After the ritual, Ignios came to their realm to cure his wound, covered in fresh blood. He said he stabbed Diem and watched her die. Sophos looks at Luther, then Auralie, full of pity, and says this was never their plan.

Luther closes his eyes. He longs to deny it, but he saw it, and so did Teller. The figure robed in white holding a blade. Diem collapsing to the ground. Everything he hung his faith on, the compass, the dreams, the feeling of her in his chest, was a lie. If she is gone, then so is he. She was his light, his world, his salvation, his purpose. Without her, all that remains is vengeance.

The world blurs. Suddenly the Ignios King's frail body is pinned beneath him, the throne broken around them. His hands wrap around Ignios's neck and squeeze, savoring the weak thump of his pulse racing in terror, then slowing. Ignios twitches like a beached fish. The stench of festering wounds and burnt flesh fills Luther's nose as Ignios's flames scorch his hands. Luther does not shield. The pain of blistering skin is nothing compared to the agony of her loss. His godhood surges, demanding release, but he holds it back. It would kill Ignios in a single blow, and Luther wants him to suffer. He wants him to bleed until not a drop is left, to torture him in the cruelest ways, then wait for him to heal so he can do it again. Ignios's death is for what he did to her. His suffering is for what he did to Luther.

A blast of wind slams into Luther's side and throws him off. The Crowns have circled him, nearly every Descended in the room raising their palms. Only Alixe and Eleanor hold back.

Chapters 16-22

Luther withdraws his blade from Zalaric’s side and walks away laughing, leaving Zalaric unsteady. The fear of the scared little boy Luther once saved still shows in his blue eyes, and Luther knows the wound Zalaric carries now might crush him forever.

Ophiucae turns his attention to Luther, using Umbros compulsion to force him to turn around and reveal what he was hiding. He grabs Luther’s hair, yanks his head back, presses a godstone blade to his throat, and orders him to withdraw his magic. The shadows around the palace fall away, and the mortals breach the palace doors as Ophiucae drills into Luther’s mind, demanding to see everything. Luther fights, but he is bound and cannot resist. Ophiucae tears through his memories, lingering over the two days Luther and Diem spent alone in the Sophos library, studying every vow, every confession, every moment of peace and joy. He skips their more intimate moments but digs deeper. He finds the truth Luther has kept most private: that Diem let herself shatter in his arms, trusting him to hold the pieces until she was ready to face the world again. Luther knows he has failed her again by letting this be seen.

Outside Luther’s mind, Vance reports that they found the others. Two Descended are thrown to the ground, barely alive. Two more were caught trying to untie a boat at the pier, and a woman was trying to claim safe haven with the Guardians. Ophiucae asks about the rest, and Vance says they killed the ones they saw but could not find the children. Luther feels relief that the children are safe, and perhaps Lily, Teller, and Eleanor are too. But Alixe, Taran, and Zalaric weigh on him.

Ophiucae tells Luther he sent his gryvern to burn the city. He presses the flat of his blade beneath Luther’s chin and reflects on his siblings, who wasted away because of the promises they made to their mates. He always believed love was weakness, but now he understands it differently: love is powerful, one of the most formidable forces in existence. It doesn’t make you weak; it makes you blind. It makes you hold on to a person against all reason, even when it destroys you. He rotates the blade until its edge hovers over Luther’s pulse and suggests he should do it for Diem, letting Luther go.

Then a voice cuts through, ordering Ophiucae to let him go and threatening to take his head if he spills a single drop of Luther’s blood. Luther’s heart stops. Diem’s aura brushes his cheek, and his godhood roars to life, thrashing against Ophiucae’s hold. Ophiucae withdraws his magic just enough for Luther to turn his head, and he sees her: Diem, her white hair wild and unbound, her eyes dark as a brewing storm yet glowing with power. Her face is gaunt, her stare cold and merciless, and her Crown has nine peaks, one for each realm. She is no longer merely Queen of Lumnos, Fortos, or Montios. She is the Queen of Emarion.

Ophiucae taunts her about her new toys, and Diem responds lightly, asking him to give her Luther as a birthday gift. Her voice carries a strange new power, and her skin glows the way her father’s does. Ophiucae tests her like a father testing a child, and Diem holds back her retort. She dismounts Sorae and takes in the carnage around her, including Zalaric’s motionless body. She pulls a long sword from her cloak, its dark blade etched with golden lines. Ophiucae warns her that its last owner ended up with the blade through her heart, put there by her own daughter. Diem declares the realm under her protection and tells him to take his men and go to Omnos, offering him the northern lands. Ophiucae claims the entire continent is his, but Diem stands her ground, saying her Crown says otherwise.

After a tense silence, Ophiucae sheathes his blade and releases Luther, saying he came for the former Crowns. Diem looks at the dethroned monarchs, Mireille weeping, Doriel and Obaneryn clinging together, the other two barely alive. Her face shows no compassion, only cold hate. Luther sees she is not the Queen he once knew. Ophiucae refuses to let her handle their punishment, and she tries to negotiate, calling him Omnos. He growls that his name is Ophiucae and raises his palms, declaring he will have his revenge. Diem closes her eyes and draws a breath.

The ground rocks, and a deep crevasse splits open around the former Crowns, trapping them on an island of their own. Cobblestones rise and wedge into a dome above them. Ophiucae is amused, saying children always think they are smarter than their parents. He twists his fingers, suffocating them inside the cage, and Diem funnels a breeze through the cracks to keep them alive. Ophiucae’s aura throbs, and lightning splinters down from the blackened sky. Diem raises a shield above the dome before it strikes, and they trade blows, sparks glittering around them. As Ophiucae is distracted, Luther edges toward Diem.

Ophiucae seethes that she defied him twice and says a parent must bestow discipline. He turns his outstretched hands and magic onto Luther. Diem screams, her terror raw, and Luther steels himself for the impact. A blur crosses his vision, and light explodes. When it fades, Diem stands between him and Ophiucae, having taken the lethal blow. The shock on Ophiucae’s face matches Luther’s. Diem has absorbed the power, and it has only made her stronger. They now know that Ophiucae is immune to Diem’s magic, and she is immune to his.

Ophiucae staggers back, then fires again with staggering force. The ground fissures and steams, but the magic disappears into Diem’s skin, and her power flares. She raises a hand toward his army and clenches it into a fist. A fracture splits across his shield, and his soldiers start to flee. Ophiucae looks at Diem as if seeing her for the first time as a genuine threat. She pulses her aura, a silent challenge. When he doesn’t answer with his own, Luther knows they have won. Shielding the mortals has drained him, and Diem has absorbed much of his remaining power. He calls for Xipherus, his gryvern, and orders the mortals back to the boats. Vance protests, but Ophiucae roars the order, and the mortals stiffen, their eyes glassy, and shuffle away. Ophiucae mounts his gryvern, his muscles taut with fury. Diem calls out for a peaceful talk, but Ophiucae refuses. He plucks something from the air, and Diem stumbles forward, hands flying to her neck. He says this is far from over and flies away.

Diem stares at the shrinking silhouette of Ophiucae’s gryvern, overwhelmed and unable to move. She knows he removed the ten-pointed star he branded on her throat, making her an enemy Descended. She does not fear his men and did not want his brand, but her heart feels raw. Luther’s voice sends a current through her blood, and just hearing it comforts her. Beneath her cloak of shadows, the mating mark glows brighter than her skin, aching for his touch. He sinks to his knees and bows his head, calling her “My Queen.” She cups his bearded cheek, and at the touch of his skin, the screaming in her head goes silent. The maddening itch across her body soothes, and her aching chest finally feels at peace. He presses her hand closer, and she lets his warmth reassure her that this is real, not another cruel dream. The words she longs to scream crawl up her throat: You are my mate. Seal the bond, and make me yours. She wants to wait until they are alone but is not sure how much longer she can keep them in.

She sweeps her stare over him as he rises. His clothes are ill-fitting, mortal-made, and covered in deep slashes and blood. Her healing magic dives inside him, and he jerks away, his throat working. He says, “Zalaric first.” The reminder of their friend pulls her out of her lovesick daze. She runs through the Descended soldiers shaking off Ophiucae’s mental hold and drops to her knees at Zalaric’s side. A weak pulse beats beneath his skin. She pushes her healing magic into him, careful to route it around the scar on his neck, but her godhood screeches and recoils. The blade is godstone, and its poison has taken root.

Taran roars nearby, and Diem yells for him. Soldiers shout protests as they are shoved aside, and Taran appears, taking in Diem, then Zalaric, then Diem again. He rasps a single hoarse word: “Queenie.” Luther orders Taran to take Zalaric’s hand, skin on skin, saying it helps. Taran asks if it was godstone, and Diem’s

Chapters 23-27

The excursion into Mortal City draws far more attention than Diem and Luther intend. Word travels fast, and by the time they reach the central square, a crowd has gathered. Between Diem's mother's dramatic disappearance and return as head of the Guardians, Diem's own long absence, the prior day's attack, and her new nine-peaked Crown, the mortals have plenty to say. Their quick trip stretches into most of the day.

Diem listens as the mortals air their grievances. Remis kept his promise to protect them, at least until the Crowns arrived, but the last few days have been a nightmare. Husbands were ripped from wives, neighbors vanished, children abandoned. Soldiers knocked down doors and ransacked homes. Many who resisted did not survive. The mortals feel betrayed. They pledged Diem their loyalty during her last visit, and in their eyes, she abandoned them while the Crowns plundered their town. Only her mother speaking on her behalf keeps the mob's frustration from turning violent.

Luther stays pressed close throughout, his vigilant eyes scanning for threats, his body a barrier between Diem and anyone who comes within arm's reach. Every brush of their hands sends strength through her. When the crowds thin, Diem shows Luther the town she grew up in. She reveals the places only a resident would know: the market stall with her favorite sweets, the belltower with the prettiest view, the tavern infamous for its inconsistent ale. Luther's brooding exterior cracks into a smile when she admits she was permanently condemned to watered-down swill after an unfortunate incident with a runaway wild hog, another misadventure with Henri.

The tour becomes something more intimate. Diem finds excuses to touch him, pretending to stumble so she can grab his forearm, taking unexpected turns so she can tug him along. Luther responds in kind, his hand resting on the low curve of her back. When an old patient offers them wild berry tartlets, Diem wipes a smudge of red from Luther's lips, her thumb lingering, their eyes locked. Her heart swells with so much love it hurts. After that, they touch less.

Her mother steps away to meet a reclusive contact from her spy days, leaving Diem and Luther in uncomfortable silence, until the sound of a gryvern draws them both to their feet. Sorae lands on the outskirts of town with Alixe on her back. Diem runs to meet them, ordering Luther to stay. Alixe delivers the news: the Twenty Houses sent a delegation to the palace demanding to speak with the former Crowns. They are offering to recognize Doriel and Obaneryn as the rightful Crowns if they stand against Diem. A coup.

Diem calls out to Luther to wait for her mother and get her back to camp, then swings onto Sorae's back. Luther protests, running toward them, and Alixe hesitates. So does Sorae, to Diem's shock. Diem barks the command again, and this time the gryvern obeys, launching into flight. As Luther fades from view, Alixe shares more news: the former Ignios King passed away last night. Diem feels nothing but numbness. Saving him would have cost only a drop of blood and an ounce of compassion, and in her anger, she offered neither. His brother is demanding her arrest for murder, claiming that as the late King's Regent, he should rule Ignios, not Diem. The Twenty Houses have given him their support, and messenger hawks have likely been sent to the Regents of her other realms with the same offer.

Diem grumbles that Eleanor is the Regent of all her realms, not just Lumnos. Alixe questions the wisdom of this. Eleanor has promise and has done well in Diem's absence, but she has lived her whole life in Lumnos. How can she lead people she knows nothing about? Diem points out that is exactly what she herself has been called to do, gesturing to her Crown. Alixe's cheeks redden, and she apologizes. Diem agrees that the realms need leaders who understand them, but she needs Regents she can trust, and all her allies are from Lumnos. Alixe suggests it might be time to make more allies.

Diem storms through the palace into a meeting room in chaos. The chamber is packed with shouting Descended. Eleanor, Taran, and Zalaric cluster near the Lumnos throne. Remis argues with a seething Marthe Hanoverre and a red-faced Evrim Benette. Doriel and Obaneryn stand rather than sit at the Sophos and Meros thrones, their eyes bouncing nervously between each other and the chaos. The Ignios Regent is firmly seated in his throne, and when his gaze lands on Diem, he calls her a murderer.

The room falls silent. The Ignios Regent accuses Diem of killing his brother. Diem walks toward him, forcing the crowd to part, and tells him his brother died because he attacked a Queen much smarter than he was. She promises he will join his brother if he intends to do the same. Someone in the crowd asks if the rumors are true, if her blood can cure godstone. Diem admits it can. Gasps and cries of shock ripple through the room. When asked if she is immune to godstone, Diem lies and says yes. In truth, she has no idea. After being stabbed on the island, she felt death near. She might not survive it again, but they do not need to know that.

Iléana Hanoverre whispers loudly to Jean that she thinks Diem is lying, suggesting someone should test it. The Ignios Regent sneers in agreement. Diem stops beside his throne and proposes a bet: he puts a godstone blade through her chest, just like his brother did. If she survives, she gets to do the same to him. His nostrils flare. Glowing red spots sprout along the carved wood beneath her hand, and the smell of burning cedar fills the room. The throne bursts into flames, and the Regent leaps from his seat, grabbing his scimitar. The woman with him jumps forward, but her warning glare is directed at him, not Diem. Diem raises her other hand, and all nine thrones begin to burn. The crowd stumbles back, their stunned faces illuminated in orange.

Remis snaps that the thrones were nine hundred years old. Diem responds that this is a lesson about what she is willing to do to old, unnecessary things. Marthe Hanoverre sniffs disgustedly and suggests it is convenient that Diem reappeared at the precise moment the Ophiucae person attacked, almost as if it were planned. Diem fires back that she returned to Lumnos as quickly as she could, just in time to catch Marthe in the midst of treason. A woman from one of the smaller Houses steps forward, looking ready to put Diem's head on a pike. She tells Diem her home went up in dragonfyre yesterday and asks where Diem was. Marthe and many others murmur in agreement. The woman says they spent all night collecting their dead and asks why Diem was not there to help. More murmurs, more nods. She asks where Diem was today, when Lumnos City is in ruins and many are dead. What more does it take to get the attention of their Queen?

Diem admits she was in Mortal City, eating berry tarts and swooning over Luther, though she does not say that part aloud. Iléana asks with barely concealed delight if Mortal City was attacked as well, if a gryvern burned their homes. Diem feels a stab of guilt. She admits Mortal City was not attacked, though some townsfolk were imprisoned and the people were upset. Her stammering is drowned out by a thunderous roar. Diem glances around the room she initially dismissed as selfish elites and sees half-fallen updos, rumpled clothes stained with soot, traces of blood crusted on hands. Their sapphire eyes hold no jealousy or greed. They hold betrayal and resentment.

Diem realizes her choice today was selfish. She did not go to Mortal City because they needed her. She went because she was sinking into misery and ran to the one place that felt like home. Meanwhile, Lumnos City did need her, and she let her prejudice get in the way. Marthe raps her cane until the room quiets and reminds everyone she warned them before the Challenging that Diem was unfit to rule. Evrim Benette says they are at war and cannot count on Diem to protect them, so they must protect themselves. Taran appears with Zalaric and offers to roll Zal into a ball and knock them down like pins.

Diem sighs and asks Marthe what her demands are. Marthe proposes a council to govern the realm, led by the five largest Houses. A man from House Ghislaine protests that she said all Twenty Houses would get a say. Marthe explains they will, through the five largest Houses. She gestures to Evrim, Remis, and two others, saying they will hear each House's concerns and make choices for the good of all. She waves at Doriel and Obaneryn, claiming the true Crowns have agreed to recognize their authority. Doriel quickly denies this, saying they agreed only to hear the offer and discuss it with the Queen.

The Ignios Regent says it is a better choice than Diem and gives them his vote. Eleanor protests that their votes do not represent the will of the realm, and that the Houses are over