A melody eases me from sleep. My eyes crack to pale sunlight streaming through my window. I can hardly understand why I've woken up so early. It was nearly midnight when I fell asleep. The events of the night flood my head, and a single thought pushes me from a half-conscious state.

Truth has finally dawned.

I'm not foolish enough to think that things will go back to normal, life will never be the same. But I know who's responsible for taking my parent's lives and destroying mine. A murderer no longer roams the palace halls, dines along us, exchanges apathetic pleasantries or biting remarks.

Murderers, I have to remind myself. There were two.

Now that they're caught, I can sleep soundly knowing no one will come after me. Or maybe I can't. I'm the heir, after all. Perhaps someone else has a reason for assassinating me. I almost prefer being a care-free princess, without a bunch of extra lessons and duties to take care of, without the weight of a kingdom on my shoulders.

I recall the promise I made to my father last night. Slowly, anxiety filters around me, like I'm being buried alive in fine, piling grains of duty. I have to keep a kingdom alive and prospering. I, alone, am responsible for everything, from trade to war to taxes. I can't handle that, I'm not ready. I was never prepared to be queen.

My eyes close. I can't get up and face my responsibilities. Not today. Maybe not ever.

You promised to be strong. A queen doesn't show weakness. My head shakes back and forth on its own. I'm no queen.

I must sink back into slumber because a knock is the next thing I process. A little more energy pumps through my system than before, enough to open my eyes. Bright sunlight radiates behind my curtains, and my clock points to nine in the morning.

"Princess Aylo?" a voice calls. Matilda pokes her head into my room. "Duke Rothbart, Prince Sigvard, and Prince Benno await you for breakfast in the West Wing."

"Didn't they eat hours ago?" I say with a yawn.

"Perhaps," Matilda says. She sweeps a gown from my wardrobe, one of red taffeta overlaid with lace. I'll have to get used to wearing more of Saursi's royal colors if I'm to be queen. Matilda fastens the back snugly while I brush the tangles from my hair.

The dress swishes at my ankles as I walk to the West Wing. Just as promised, Sigvard and Benno sit across from Uncle Rothbart at the table, leaving Clemaina's spot empty.

But it isn't reserved for Clemaina anymore. I'm to occupy the head of the table now.

"Good morning, Aylo," Sigvard says as I sit beside him. I've never seen such admiration in his eyes. Whether it's because I'm queen or because I solved our parents' murders, I do not know.

"Good morning, Sigvard." Guilt sweeps through me, more strongly now that I face my brother. All this time, I've been shutting out the one person who's supported and helped me.

A servant presents me with a platter of fruit and eggs. I peck at the berries while Uncle Rothbart fills us in on the morning's activities.

"After a search of Clemaina's room, they found an old scarf and some ashen makeup colors she doesn't normally wear hidden inside one of her old carpenter bags. Seems that the makeup was purchased several years ago, as it seems to have gone rancid. Duchess Frieza paid a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Tharbort this morning, and they confirmed it was the same one that the old woman wore around her head when she asked to purchase the poison. They also confirmed that Sewale visited the day before the Festival of Fallen Roses. Since they rarely ever need caquile extract, they didn't realize that any was missing until today."

The orange tastes sour in my mouth, the eggs flavorless rubber. "Will the Tharborts testify against them?"

"Most likely, though Clemaina has already confessed to her crime. Apparently, she and Odeia were talking a few weeks before your mother's birthday. Odeia told her that she planned to buy her a box of chocolates for her birthday since she knew it was your mother's favorite. Clemaina saw it as the perfect opportunity to get rid of Odeia by framing her for murder. I'm sure you remember the rumor that spread about her when she first came to the palace, that she was dating The Prince of Verrain. She learned quite a lot about how much newspapers shape public opinion then. Lady Avrilaya filled her in on even more details about the press, how they functioned and why it was imperative to keep sensitive matters away from prying ears and eyes. Clemaina realized that a few letters implementing Odeia might ensure her conviction. I'm ashamed to admit she was right."

Uncle Rothbart blinks against the shimmer blooming in his eyes. He takes a sip of water, about to continue, when Duchess Frieza enters the room. Her wrinkless pale blue dress and purse contrast the dark circles that droop under her eyes.

"Princess Aylo," she says, curtsying. "Good morning. I hope you slept well."

"I did," I say, though I'm unsure of how accurate it is. "Uncle Rothbart was just filling me in on your work this morning. Thank you for all the progress you've made."

"The honor is mine," she says, sitting beside Uncle Rothbart. "Please continue."

"I'm almost finished," Uncle Rothbart says. "Essentially, Clemaina determined attsed was the best poison to use since it can be acquired for medicinal purposes. She snuck into Odeia's room and stole her comb for payment. It was more than enough to get several doses of attsed."

"Why weren't the Tharborts suspicious of the payment method?" Sigvard asks.

Duchess Frieza answers. "Older men and women often trade their valuables, even family heirlooms, for medicines that'll ease their ailments, especially if they have no children."

Uncle Rothbart nods. "That's basically the end of Clemaina's testimony. She put the attsed in her mother's tea, got honey to cover the taste, and hid the remaining poison under Odeia's pillow."

It's sick hearing her confession. The little breakfast I've eaten churns in my stomach.

"As for Sewale," Sigvard says, "We can work out what his testimony is. I'm sure the footprint we found on the king's chair will match his boots."

"They do," Duchess Frieza confirms. "We checked that this morning. Of course, it's an exclusive print. Many others in nobles have the same size and type of shoe. But it's another point against him. We presume he used the chair while searching the king's study for the document proclaiming his new heir." Her black eyes shift to me for an instant.

"He probably also knew about the secret passage as a guard," Sigvard continues. "So he could get in and out of the king's study unnoticed."

Both Uncle Rothbart and the duchess startle.

"How do you know about the secret passage?" Uncle demands in a hoarse whisper. "There's a reason why it's called 'secret.'"

Sigvard and I exchange glances. Silently, we decide not to say anything, as our informant was Odeia.

"Do not breathe a word about it to anyone," Uncle Rothbart finally says.

"And you are actually incorrect." Duchess Frieza lowers her voice. "I'm sure he hasn't the slightest clue about it. Only the king, his council and personal guards, and the palace builders know about it. How would he find out? And how would he bypass the guards at the head of the West Wing to access it?"

We never considered that detail.

"So how did he get in?" I ask.

Duchess Frieza opens her purse, retrieving a vial and the same hooked wire Sewale had on him last night. "Being the son of a mediciner helps with more than poisons. He learned quite a bit about different chemical properties. Inside this vial is a substance that actually makes wood shrink when applied. Not very much, mind you, but enough to create a crack in the window frame, allowing him to slip this wire through. He then used the hooked end of the wire to pry the lock open."

Sigvard's head thumps against the back of his chair. "Of course!"

"I just have one more question," I say. "The night Father died, the ledger was removed from his study. How did he manage to get it out?"

"We'll have to wait for a complete confession from Sewale to get definite answers," Duchess Frieza says. "But after the Tharborts completed a careful analysis of all their serums, they found several ounces of a numbing agent missing as well. We suspect that Sewale placed it on the ledger along with the poison to pacify the king's response. King Ivandor died silently, allowing Sewale time to slip through the window and remove the ledger."

"Yet it didn't show up in the body's examination?" Sigvard asks.

"No. This particular one is processed very quickly by the body, so no trace remained when it was examined."

So much makes sense now. It's weird how opaque the murders were before, now that they're clearer than the crystal glasses we drink from.

"I'm sure more details will come out in Clemaina and Sewale's trials," Uncle Rothbart says, bringing my attention back to him. "Right now, we have some other matters to discuss, one being your throne."

Dread pools in my stomach. I take a sip of water, but it seems to hover down my throat, doing little to quench its dryness. "What about it?"

"Well, you are to be queen," he says.

"Didn't Sewale say something about Father's request being void since you don't have the document?"

"Yes," Uncle Rothbart agress, very slowly. "But there are a couple of complexities within that rule. First, I had Duke and Duchess Tolmeizer investigate the court laws last night. According to their assessment, our initial interpretation stands. Further, we will more than likely have evidence, maybe even a testimony, incriminating Sewale for the destruction of the document, as well as the murder of your father."

"And finally, it does not matter whether your father declared you as the heir or not," Duchess Frieza finishes. "You are the eldest child in line for the throne now."

I glance at Sigvard, trying to convey a question with my eyes. He gives a slight nod after a moment. I hope he could guess what I was asking. I take a deep breath. The secret shouldn't matter now that Clemaina is imprisoned, but it feels wrong to betray it.

Now or never. The swan must come out of hiding sometime.

"What if I'm not the oldest?" My gaze flicks between a confused Duchess Frieza and Uncle Rothbart's silent stare into space.

"I'm not sure I follow," Duchess Frieza admits.

"I know where Princess Odeia is," I say before I lose my courage. "And based on a letter I found, I think my father would want her to be queen, not me."

Duchess Frieza blinks at me in shock. "What? When did you find her? How long have you known?"

"That day I got lost while hunting," I say. "I know I protected her secret, even though she was still a criminal at the time when I found her. But I had to. She was—and is—innocent."

"And is she ready to rule now? What has she been doing all these years?"

I never considered that Odeia might not feel ready for the crown, just like me. But even as her most unpracticed self, she's more equipped for the job than I ever will be.

"She hasn't been doing much," Sigvard hedges. "Just kind of...swimming around." I nudge his leg under the table. Now isn't the best time to explain that the former princess is a swan by day.

"And when should we fetch her?" Uncle Rothbart speaks at last. "Admittedly, I'm rather tired today." His shoulders slump and eyes droop like he hasn't slept all night. I'm not surprised based on the amount of progress made in consolidating evidence against Clemaina and Sewale.

"We can go tomorrow," Sigvard offers. "Though..." I nudge his foot again, and he clamps his mouth shut.

"What is it?" Duchess Frieza asks.

"Nothing." Sigvard spares an unmissable glance at me, but no one presses the issue. Best to reveal the swan princess after some of the initial shock has worn off.

"Well, Duchess Frieza and I should return to our duties," Uncle Rothbart says. "We'll talk tomorrow." He and the duchess exchange unmistakable whispers as they leave. I see they still keep a few secrets from me, as I'm not the queen yet. I never will be if I can help it.

"I kind of can't believe you're giving up the throne," Sigvard says. He snags a grape from the edge of my plate, and I push the assorted fruit closer to him.

"Sure you won't regret it?" Benno jokes quietly.

"I don't think so, certainly not now. Besides, Odeia deserves the position." I pinch a blueberry between my thumb and index finger, rolling it around.

"A noble decision," Sigvard says, biting an orange slice. Juice spurts onto his white shirt. The air hangs heavy with unaddressed tension. Sensing it, Benno slides from his chair.

"I'll see you later. I'd better get back to my lessons." He disappears round the corner, leaving Sigvard and me alone. A day ago, it would've sparked fear. Now, I only feel guilt.

"So we did it," Sigvard says, breaking the silence.

I nod, though I look at the blueberry instead of him. "So we did. I'm, uh, sorry. For how weird I've been acting. I...I'm not going to lie, I suspected you for a bit." I force myself to face him and his arched eyebrows.

"Really? Why?"

"I thought you wanted the throne. You got Odeia out of the way by staging mother's death, then tried to frame Clemaina for father's death in the same way."

"And then I was coming after you next," he murmurs. "Oh, Aylo, I would never, I could never—"

"Yes, I know that now. Now that it's Sewale..."

Sigvard sags against his chair, head hanging over the back. At least he didn't bang his head this time. "That's why you didn't want to be around me. So much makes sense."

"Yes." I let the blueberry roll across the plate to join the other untouched pieces of fruit. It's hard to know what to say. My world has crashed and been rebuilt before my eyes, most of which struck last night.

"I know words don't always mean much," Sigvard says, more series than ever before. "But you are my closest blood relative. Clemaina doesn't count to me anymore, not after what she did. I guess I just, uh, mean that I'll always be there for you, queen or not."

"And I'll always look out for you, little brother." Sigvard and I both chuckle, probably because he isn't so little anymore. And neither am I.