"Morananthia Bedisa died two years before the war ended," Cethin whispered when she at last gained her composure after my announcement.

Watching Remiel from my peripheral vision, I replied, "Those same rumors say her sister murdered her."

"Well, considering her current state, who would doubt it?"

"Mara wasn't always like this. Vyta's fires have made her this way."

"If you are the princess, where have you been all these years? Why did your father announce that you had died?"

Cethin's hard green gaze assessed me. I had to admire her. The shock of my announcement had not entirely worn off. I could see it in the tremble of her hands as she picked up a cup of hot tea, but resolve wrapped around her question like steel ribbons. Princess or not, she expected me to answer.

"Perhaps he thought I was dead."

Many memories had returned, but gaping holes remained. Especially around what happened the night Mara first drained Vyta. I had watched my sister defy my mother, pull the flames into herself, and then been burned by her touch. After that, there was nothing but pain and darkness until I woke in the cottage in the Vesper.

The Deathsinger waited silently for me to continue. I didn't expect her to allow me to leave it there, but I didn't know how to explain things to her without it sounding evasive. Perhaps it was better to show her. I slid my towel off my shoulders and tugged down the sleeve to expose the scars.

A noise burst out of Remiel at the sight of the fresh wounds. Strangled and guttural, it didn't make it further than his throat. His entire being went rigid beside me. Cethin looked at them with a strange mixture of emotions. Pity was foremost, but beneath that was astonishment.

"I was injured the night Mara extinguished Vyta." By her hand, but I would not share that information. No reason to damn my sister for any more sins. "But I only recently learned that. Until recently, I had no memory of my life in Araphel. I can only guess that someone, perhaps my father, smuggled me out of Araphel. Whether it was because they knew what a danger Mara was going to become or because they suspected we would lose the war...I might never know."

Tea sloshed over the edge of Cethin's cup as she clunked it down on the saucer. "You poor child. I can't even guess at what horrors you endured in your time away from your homeland, nor at what events that could have occurred that would have led you back here. Though, I suspect the awakening of your Deathsinger powers might have played a role."

I nodded. "Remiel found me. Told me what I was."

"She wasn't very pleased." He joked.

"Would you be if someone showed up and told you your very existence was punishable by death?" I grumbled. Gods, what a scared little girl I had been.

"Welcome news or not, I am glad he found you, and I am pleased that the Reapers are still dutiful."

"Always, Mistress."

"Good." She patted Remiel's knee. Seeing such a fearsome woman make such a maternal gesture was odd. Especially when she looked back at me, a dangerous gleam brightening her eyes.

"But I must tell you that you're wrong."

"Excu–"

"If it was your father who smuggled you out of Araphel, we can find out."

"How?" Hope bloomed in my chest. Such a sweet poisonous thing that was hard to resist. "Did he leave records somewhere? Ones that were not destroyed in the fires?"

She rose, left the room, and returned with a change of clothes for each of us. "Put these on and then down the hall to the room on the left. You'll find a warm meal and a bed. We can talk in the morning."

"Wait!" I tossed the dress in the chair and followed her as she headed toward the front door, grabbing her cloak off a hook as she went. "You can't mean to leave us like that. Tell me how you plan to get answers."

Tying a ribbon under her chin, Cethin arched a brow. "Once again, asking questions. Your tale is all well and good, but before I speak, I must confirm that you are who you say you are. Right now you are my guests, but do not think that means you can leave here. A guard will be posted until I return. I suggest you get some sleep."

With that warning, she left. I dropped back in my chair and glared at the door. Irritation and disappointment burned inside of me like a bitter chaser to that brief moment of hope. Remiel handed me the sleeping gown I'd discarded and cleared his throat.

"Can you believe her?" I demanded.

"What's not to believe?"

He pulled me to my feet and pushed me toward the bedroom. I moved mechanically, putting one foot in front of the other despite the fact it galled me to obey Cethin. Was my identity not enough to prove to her we could be trusted?

"We just told her I'm her princess, and she thinks it's okay to lock us up like common prisoners."

Remiel made a sound somewhere between a snort and a laugh as he pushed the bedroom door open. Flames danced in the fireplace, warming the intimate space far more efficiently than the one in the parlor. The heated air pulled the lingering chill from my bones, and when I saw the bed, so plush and soft, my eyelids grew heavy at once.

"Do you find this funny?" I asked, clutching my bed clothes to my chest as my sluggish brain caught up to the fact that there was only one bed in the room.

"Not at all."

"Then why are you trying not to laugh?"

"You just sound very much like a princess right now. She's locked us up like common prisoners." He mocked me in a high-pitched tone.

"Oh shut up," I said, grabbing a pillow off the rocking chair by the fireplace and chucking it at him.

Remiel caught it in front of his face, lowering it slowly and fixing me with a wolfish stare. His dark brown hair fell over his forehead, stopping just above amber eyes filled with amusement. The brackish water had curled the ends a bit more than usual, and what was left of my bad mood drained away as I wondered how it would feel to run my fingers through the textured waves.

As if sensing my thoughts, he winked at me before sitting on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped beneath him, and his deft fingers made quick work of the buttons of his tunic, revealing the corded muscles covering his abdomen. I blushed and looked down. What had seemed so natural between us in the ashy wilderness felt strange and uncertain in this domestic setting.

I turned away from him and pulled my gown over my head, settling it on my shoulders and tugging the hem down low enough to provide a bit of modesty while I shimmied out of the damp trousers and tunic. Those I hung on the mantle and then finished pulling on the dress. When I turned around, Remiel's expression brought my heart to a stuttering halt.

"D-do I have something on my face?" I asked, fingertips searching across my cheeks.

After being dunked in the water, I probably looked a mess at this point. Salt crusted on my skin, and my hair hung woodenly over my shoulders. His eyes moved over my body at a languid pace, and I glanced down, trying to see what it was that had captivated him so suddenly.

The answer was immediately obvious. Backlit by the fire, the white nightgown had become translucent, making every curve of my body visible to him. I shuddered as my heart sped up, battering against my ribs like the wings of a bird against its cage. Desire bubbled up inside of me, urging me to move toward him, but my feet remained frozen to the floor.

"Morana," he said, getting up slowly and closing the distance between us. He stopped in front of me, but did not touch me. "Please, look at me."

His voice was soft. Kind. I could not deny him.

"There you are." Remiel smiled.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm acting this way."

His lips curved downward. "I have a suspicion, but it doesn't matter. You feel the way you feel, and I need you to know I expect nothing from you."

"You don't?"

"I will take whatever you offer and nothing more." He cupped my cheek, and I rested the weight of my head in his hand.

"Thank you."

"But I do need to say this. For too long, I had to hide how I felt about you. How much I wanted you. That is a beast that cannot be put away now that it has been freed, I'm afraid."

"I understand..."

"No, I don't think you do."

The hand on my face slid lower. He caressed the side of my throat before curving it around the back. He gripped me lightly enough I could pull away if I wanted to. But I didn't want to.

"I only mean that I can't hide what you do to me, but that doesn't mean you have to respond if you don't want to."

"I do...want to, but I don't think I'm ready." It would seem without the threat of danger lurking in every dark corner, I was a lot less brave.

"It's probably for the best right now, anyway."

"Why's that?"

Remiel bent his head and kissed me. The wooden floor scraped my toes as they curled, and I chased after him with a sigh as he pulled away. Then he drew back the covers of the bed, crawled in, and patted the side next to him. I joined him without hesitation, settling into his body without fear that his hands would begin to wander.

"You didn't answer." The cool tip of his nose nuzzled into my neck as he pulled me against him, and he draped one arm over my stomach. I elbowed him. "Remy."

A burst of warm air bathed my neck as he laughed, and then his lips were against the shell of my ear. "Because we both need to rest right now. And that is the last thing either of us will get when you finally welcome me into your body, Princess Moranthia."

I flushed from my roots to the tips of my toes, and long after Remiel's breathing evened out into the gentle rhythm of sleep, I thought about what he said. Gods, if Astreia was here, she would have rolled her eyes or swooned–maybe even both. She would have definitely known exactly what to say in response; instead of going silent and cold like a dead fish.

But she wasn't here. And Remiel was right. We needed rest for the days ahead. Hopefully, Cethin would find answers, and perhaps between my bond with Mara and their knowledge, we might devise a plan to relight Vyta. Then, maybe I could think more on what Remy had said.

"Time to wake you two."

Cethin's cheerful voice ripped through the pleasant dream I'd been having, and I rolled away from her, burying my face into Remiel's chest to stifle a groan. His hold on me tightened.

"You were so concerned with answers last night, and now you want to stay in bed all day."

"All day?" I grumbled, sitting up and rubbing bleary eyes. "We've only just gone to bed."

Cethin pointed at a fresh pile of clothes and shook her head. "You've slept nearly twenty bells."

Remiel shot up beside me with a hiss. He had the audacity to look bright eyed and devilishly handsome. "Why did you let us sleep so long?"

"Because you needed it, and it took me that long to be granted an audience."

"An audience? With whom?"

"The king," Cethin responded, her tone suggesting my question was foolish. "Your father."