Oredison Palace, Gazda.
The day before the Welcome Dinner.
Less than two weeks before Sanctus Aurelia.

Lunch yesterday had been uncomfortable at best. Kai hadn't shown and Heidi and Nadia were both attending dress fittings for the Commencement Ball. This left me, Cohen, Kinsley, and Larkin alone with Caine. Cohen had seemed relieved to see me, but Kinsley had bristled at the very sight.

I'd barely made it into my seat between Caine and the prince before she was asking, "Why the costume change, Monroe?"

I blinked at her, the picture of innocence. "What do you mean?"

Her dark eyes raked along my body as I took my seat. "I don't remember you being the sort to wear heels."

I shrugged. "I don't remember you being the sort to care about what I was wearing."

"Oh, I don't give a shit what you wear." Kinsley's smile turned feral. "We've talked about this before. Varos trash is always Varos trash—no matter how you dress it up."

I grinned right back. "Save it for the arena, Kinsley."

Caine only sighed in response before he began making his plate.

I didn't care if she noticed my change of clothes—if she did, good. Let her realize that I was serious, I was going to fight for the throne just as I had the first time. Maybe my motives were different this time around, but my distaste for her wasn't.

I felt Cohen's eyes on me as I ate. I could almost hear the questions he wanted to ask—What's happened? What's changed? What are you planning? And I wanted to be able to talk to him. But even if I could get a moment alone with the prince, I wasn't sure I could tell him about my plot. I wasn't sure I wanted anyone to know what I was going to do.

The truth was that it wasn't exactly a full plan. I knew that Caine needed me to help keep Kai in line. I knew that my friends were expendable. Caine would use Cohen to suit his needs and then he would be discarded. After the Culling ended, everyone would focus on the new queen. Thoughts would move to a royal wedding and royal children. Like Uri, Cohen would now be seen as a spare.

Maybe Caine would use him to form an alliance with a neighboring kingdom, but more than likely, the prince would be imprisoned and kept away from the public eye. The same would be done to Larkin, unless Kinsley became queen and found a way to stop it.

What I needed was to eliminate the ways in which Caine kept Kai under his thumb—or at least eliminate the risks to my friends both here in the palace and in Third Corps. That meant getting my friends out and getting the people in Third Corps away from Caine's men.

My options for doing those things were limited, but I was willing to try just about anything. Uri had climbed the trellises of Oredison palace easily enough. With enough backbone, I knew I could do it too. I also knew, from the night of my escape, that there was a hidden passage in one of the gardens. Uri had told me about it during that first palace attack. I hadn't ended up using it, but she'd given it to me as an option. There were also the tunnels we'd gone through when we'd escaped after Viera's death.

If I could get Heidi and Nadia out of the palace, they could find a way to help the people in Third Corps. And even if they couldn't, they would be out of harm's way. Caine wouldn't be able to use them and it might stall the Culling. It would at least narrow the Culling down to Kinsley and me. It would mean I wouldn't have to hurt either of my friends.

Because I was going to become queen.

I knew this was what Caine wanted—since it would give him permanent control over Kai. He would think that I was playing into his hands. Everyone would think so—Kai most of all. But they would be wrong, I was playing by my own rules. It was the only way I knew how to fix things.

Fix or break, it seemed the same now.

If I were queen, I could wreck it all. I could discredit the Warwicks . I could burn the palace to the ground, tear apart the Synod, rewrite the laws. I could end the monarchy once and for all. There would be no more Culling because there would be no more queens.

With my dream of a future with Kai shattered, I'd had to form a new mission—a new reason to fight. And now this was what I wanted. I wanted to ruin everything that had ruined me. I wanted to wreck things so thoroughly, there would be no rebuilding. The Erydian government would have to start over.

No queens.

No Culling.

No bastard kings.

Only ash and ruin.

Only a clean foundation.

A blank page.

I wanted to play the game until Caine believed I was genuine—until even Cohen believed I'd changed my mind about being queen. And I could do it. That roiling darkness inside of me, even smothered as it was, wanted to wear a crown. The fire in my blood, that shred of the goddess that resided in me, desired blood and ruin and queendom. It would be easy enough to give into that power, to walk with the current instead of pushing against it.

But it would be a tight-rope walk. One that I would have to balance with precision if I wanted to do this without losing myself. And, if I were being entirely honest, that's what I was most afraid of.

I was terrified that the girl I was now would cease to exist. I knew it was possible, because I'd already buried so many other versions of myself.

The girl who had cleaned dishes and baked bread and waited for her brothers to return from a hunt was gone. She'd been replaced with a girl who had short hair and fake border papers. And that girl had died and been replaced by one in a pale pink ballgown, her eyes too wide, her bones too thin, her hope no more than a speck of dust in the wind. And then again that girl had been overtaken, murdered by a vicious killer. A girl who had burned someone to ash. Then a girl with a rabbit head necklace. Next a girl with a fear of dark spaces and the comfort of someone to walk by her side through them. And now this—a prisoner.

What was next?

A queen?

I wished I could tell Cohen what I was thinking. I wanted to take his hand at the table and tell him everything. I wanted to apologize for not knowing how to save him too.

But I didn't. I couldn't.

If there was no way to get Cohen out of the palace, then I would need him to believe I'd changed. I'd need him to be angry with me. His shock, his confusion, it would all add to my deception. It would be one more reason for Caine to believe it too.

So, I just kept my back straight, my chin high, and my eyes on my own plate.

***

Oredison Palace, Gazda.
The day before the Welcome Dinner.

I'd only just bathed and dressed when Caine arrived at my bedroom door the following morning. He was all smiles as he instructed me to dress comfortably. "I have a task for you."

I was automatically on edge. Caine had strung me along on many a task of his own—but he'd never assigned one to me. Whatever this was, it couldn't possibly be good.

I'd only nodded and shut my bedroom door again.

The weight of his body settling against my closed door put my heart in my throat.

As I dressed in an old set of training clothes, a simple cream tunic and black leggings, I was all too aware of the fact that my bedroom door locked from the outside. I knew that Caine could let himself in at any moment—whether I was dressed or not. The shut door was a farce, an attempt to soothe my own mind. It meant nothing and allowed no real privacy.

He could hear everything I was doing. If he ordered, the guards could come inside. He could come inside. And I was afraid of being alone with him. I didn't trust him at all—especially not in an enclosed space like this.

I worried about it every single time he came to fetch me for a meal or for a meeting. Usually, I would try to already be in the hall waiting—but last night I'd had dark dreams and I'd accidentally slept in.

I'd just barely laced my boots when Caine's fist hit the door. "Hurry it up, Miss Benson. We're on a schedule."

I opened the door to find him standing against the opposite wall. My guards had already been dismissed to go eat their breakfast and rest from the night's watch. During most mornings, Caine guarded me himself. Even with an entire palace at his beck and call, he trusted so few people.

And I needed him to grow to trust me.

He didn't say anything as he headed towards the south wing of the palace. I didn't follow right away and when he turned to look, I thumbed in the other direction. "Aren't—Aren't we going to breakfast?"

He nodded and turned away from me again. "Yes," he called over his shoulder. "Now, come along. We're already late."

I stayed a few steps behind him, thankful for even that amount of distance.

Around us, the palace was just waking up. An overcast dawn was hedging its way over the horizon. Against that hazy, bluish light, the city of Gazda looked like a multiheaded beast. The windows of shops were flickering on and the night streetlamps were flickering out. I wondered what it was like to live there.

To someone else, today was just a regular Wednesday. Maybe that person had chores or a job. Across the city, someone was waking up next to the person they loved. Today they would rise and go about their life, unworried about a Culling or a crown.

I envied that.

Goddess, I envied a lot of things.

Servants walked past, carrying buckets of coal or wood for fireplaces. It was mid-winter in Erydia and most rooms in the palace were heated by hearth. Despite my constant shivering, my bedroom was kept cold. The small tiled fireplace that lay against one wall had never been lit. Caine didn't trust me—especially since he could never quite tell how much tacet I had in my system.

Right now, coming off a fasted night from food or water tainted with the drug, I could almost conjure it. The anxious heat of my ability made my palms itch. It was like caging a wild beast within my bones. It wanted out. That ragged heat paced back and forth, stalking the underside of my skin for a way to escape.

With Caine being the only person near me on tacet, I knew I could possibly summon sparks. Some mornings, I would sit on the icy tiles of my bathing room and try. It was never enough to do anything with. Any flame that came from me died as soon as it left my skin.

And as much as I wanted to release that tension, I couldn't even risk trying with Caine so close to me. I didn't want to know what he'd do to me if he caught me trying to use my ability. Beat me or burn me. He'd make Kai watch. He always made Kai watch.

And there was a new threat now. If I fought Caine openly, he could get rid of me.

He'd help Kinsley win the Culling. And if that happened, nothing would change. She'd marry Kai and they'd have a son and it would start all over again. It would be generation after generation of marked girls. Dead girls.

I couldn't stomach the thought of it.

***

Caine was silent as we moved deeper into the palace. As we walked, we passed rooms I recognized—what used to be Dellacov's office, a spacious oak-paneled study that Cohen sometimes used for reading, the balcony that looked over a rose garden, a hall lined with portraits of past kings and queens. I followed Caine onto the lift and waited as we rose higher, onto a level of the palace I'd only visited on a handful of occasions.

My voice was quiet as I said, "This isn't the way to the dining room."

I wouldn't have said anything if it weren't for the sudden dread pooling in the pit of my stomach. I knew the windows, recognized the view of the garden below. Caine didn't respond to me, he just continued down the hall, passing closed doors, massive windows, and framed pastel landscapes.

Somehow, I knew exactly where we were going. I knew what lay at the end of the hall and I knew what person wouldn't be waiting there for me. It hurt, thinking of all the other mornings I'd spent in that set of rooms, laughing with a friend who was now—

Who was now—

I couldn't look at Caine as he came to a stop outside Uri's old rooms. His smile was smug as if he realized just how much this was hurting me. It was what he wanted and I was too tired to hide the pain from showing on my face. When I said nothing, only looked out the hall window, he folded his hands behind his back and nodded towards the closed door. "I take it you recognize where we are?"

I nodded, just once. My throat hurt and I wasn't sure I could speak without crying—and I was tired of crying in front of this man. It wasn't sadness, just anger. It was the sort of frustration that made me want to crawl out of my own skin. It was the lack of any time to mourn.

My heart hurt.

I hadn't been allowed to say goodbye to Uri. She'd been alive and well, dancing and smiling—and then she'd been dying. Chained to a throne, wearing Larkin's dress and mask. Wearing the crown that was now Kai's. Caine's men had shot Uri, but it had been Larkin who had killed her. She'd known something was happening and she'd set us up. She'd put Uri on that throne knowing it could get her killed.

And I hadn't forgotten that.

There were a lot of people I needed to see die. Starting with the man in front of me.

Without a word to me, Caine knocked on Uri's door. It was quiet for a long moment and then footsteps sounded from inside. For a stupid moment, my heart leapt. Hope bushed against my shattered heart, the feel of it soft as butterfly wings. And I wondered, just for an instant, if it could be her.

I wanted to believe it was. I hadn't seen Uri after she'd been taken from the ballroom. I'd thought she was dead then, but maybe—just maybe—

The door opened to a woman I didn't recognize. Her dark skin and black hair seemed stark against her simple blue and white dress. The crimson band on her arm marked her as one of the palace healers, but her posture, which was already defensive, told me she'd had more training than just that.

"Can I help you?" Her voice was deeper than I'd expected, with a sort of lilt that told me she wasn't from Gazda. She eyed Caine and then looked to where I stood, my back pressed to the wall across from the door. If she recognized me as being a marked girl, nothing about her expression gave it away.

Caine gestured to the room behind her. The woman stayed where she was in the middle of the entryway, her body mostly blocking our view inside. She didn't budge an inch as Caine took a step towards her.

"She's agitated this morning," the healer said. "Perhaps come back tomorrow."

Caine's lips twitched. "We'll see her now." She opened her mouth to argue but Caine cut her off, "I appreciate your concern, Audra, but it isn't necessary. Miss Benson will sit with her until lunch, you may take your leave now and I'll have you summoned again once you're needed."

She blinked at him. "I was hired to look after—"

He waved a hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, yes. And you're doing a splendid job. But your presence this morning is...redundant. Miss Benson will handle any needs that may arise in your absence."

The woman, Audra, glanced between the two of us. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five years old, but she carried herself with defiance I yearned to mimic. After a second she leveled her gaze solely on me. "If anything happens to her while I'm away, I'll hold you responsible—marked girl or not."

I nodded, unsure exactly what I was agreeing to.

She retreated into the rooms beyond and then returned with a leather bag. She slung it over her shoulder and tugged on her apron, straightening it. Each motion was more annoyed than the last.

For a second, she just stood in the doorway, still blocking our path. What would Caine do if she just refused to move? I almost wanted to see it. This girl, she was the sort who would go down swinging. And he didn't have guards here to hold her down. He didn't have guards here to keep her still while he held her hand over a fire.

But Audra didn't fight Caine.

Finally, Audra blew out a breath, nearly rolling her eyes into her skull as she thumbed towards the sunlit sitting room behind her. "She's painting."

"She always is," Caine muttered.

With that, Audra left us.

I watched her go, feeling an odd sense of kinship with her, even if I wasn't sure she liked me. Everyone in the palace always seemed afraid of Caine. The servants, who were all either replaced by Caine or highly watched by him, skittered around like terrified animals avoiding a predator. Even the Erydian Synod seemed to bow and scrape before him. Half the time, it felt like everyone thought he was king and not Kai. In a way, I supposed that was true.

So, it was refreshing to see someone treat Caine as if he were no one special.

Audra's steps had only just faded when Caine took me by the elbow and ushered me into my friend's old rooms. I'd been here a number of times during the first session of the Culling. Mostly for brunch—which was arguably Uri's favorite meal of the day. She wasn't known to be an early riser so breakfast always came uncomfortably close to lunch.

The memory of her seated at the small table, her smile unrestrained, her fork overfull with some sort of sweet—I could see it in my mind's eye. I didn't want to go back to that chapter of my life, but I wished I'd known to cherish those occasions more when they were happening.

No one liked the idea of Cohen and me together more than his younger sister had. More than once, Uri had surprised me with Cohen being here for brunch. Britta would sometimes come too, leaving only Larkin uninvited. We would cram around the small table in her sitting room and feast on honeyed ham, scones, tea, porridge, and anything else Uri might have been craving at the moment.

Looking at the room now, it was hard to imagine those days.

It seemed like years had passed, not mere months.

The pastel blue curtains were flung open to reveal a brightly lit balcony and Gazda beyond. The furniture was the same crisp light wood, with ornate drawer handles and polished tops. The couch and armchairs were a cream floral design with bits of gold and seafoam mixed in. The first time I'd seen the fabric, I'd nearly gasped at how pretty the design was. Uri had laughed—and then a week later she'd had a dress made for me out of the same print. I'd worn it to one of the etiquette lessons.

She'd teased me about it, but the gesture had been sweet.

What was new to Uri's rooms was the lack of personal things. The area was still beautiful, but it said nothing of Uri herself. When she'd lived here—lived at all—she'd made every space seem like it was an extension of who she was.

She'd had a box by her bed full of filled dance cards, through the open door to her bedroom, I could see it was gone. Three tiaras used to be displayed on one of the dressers in the corner of her sitting room, but I couldn't remember a time when I'd seen her wear any of them. And on the mantle, she'd once had a bundle of dried flowers in a blue Pallae glass vase. When I asked why she still kept dead flowers, she'd only shrugged and said that it wasn't about the flowers, it was more about how she'd come to have them.

All of it was gone now.

The smell of lavender and vanilla—the perfume she often wore—was missing. It had been replaced by the smell of wood cleaner and paint. And in the corner of the room, where the table we used to sit at used to be, there was now an easel.

The woman sitting in front of it didn't turn to look as Caine led me towards her. We stopped a good distance away and I watched as Caine assessed the painting she was doing—her hands still moving, her attention still locked on the canvas. It was an image of an ocean, the water dark and swirling. It took me a moment to realize that there was a hand reaching through the waves, as if the person in the painting were trying to grasp hold of something.

Caine cleared his throat, but still, the woman did not turn, the brush strokes did not cease. I took a moment to try to compose my emotions. Caine had chosen this room with intention. He'd wanted to upset me. There were dozens of bedrooms that could have been used to house this person, but instead, he'd chosen Uri's old quarters. He'd tried to hurt me.

And while seeing my friend completely removed from a place that had once belonged entirely to her was difficult, it was nothing compared to the real loss of her presence in my life. There was not a day that I didn't think of Uri. It was just difficult to think of her without also thinking of what she'd looked like the last time I'd seen her.

So, while Caine may have thought trying to replace Uri would hurt me, in a way it helped to give me new memories to cling to. I'd forgotten what life had been like between Culling trials. And now I found myself wondering who had filled those dance cards, when had she worn those tiaras, and where did she get those dried flowers?

I was pulled from my thoughts as Caine stepped forward, letting go of my arm so that he could take hold of the woman in front of us. His grip on her shoulder was tight, but she kept hold of the brush.

Her eyes were still locked on the painting as she said, "I had wondered when you would come visit me, Mirren."

He moved to stand behind her and, without a word, spun her stool so she was facing me. "Miss Benson, this is my wife, Annabelle. Annabelle, this is Monroe Benson."

Anna.

Kai's aunt.

The woman he called mother.

She had faded blonde hair that fell in messy waves from a bun atop her head. It framed sky-blue eyes and a face lined with years' worth of worry. Paint splattered the silk robe she wore, and the yellow dress underneath it was at least a size too big. It hung around her slumped shoulders and made her seem incredibly small next to the hulking frame of Caine.

She blinked at me, the motion slow and steady.

There was something about her gaze that was a little off—unfocused. Her voice was bland, wholly uninterested as she said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Monroe." She glanced at the open door out to the hall and then slowly shifted her attention back to Caine. "Where—Where did Audra go?"

Caine's hands on her shoulders tightened. The brush in her hand shook a little. He said, "Tea will arrive in about ten minutes. Monroe will be sitting with you for the rest of the morning. How does that sound, my dear?"

Anna pursed her lips. "Where is Audra?"

"The nurse is gone to eat her breakfast. You don't need her."

Anna seemed to disagree, but she said nothing else, just tugged away from his touch and turned back to her painting. Her body language was that of an angry child. Caine only smirked before he stepped forward and grabbed my arm.

I could feel Anna's gaze shift to us as he pulled me a few feet away.

He kept his voice low as he said, "You will remain in this room until I send someone to fetch you, do you understand?" His nails do into my skin and I nodded. "There will be guards posted nearby. If they hear or see something they think is suspicious, it will be reported to me immediately. Do not try anything, Miss Benson."

"I already told you," I said, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to win the Culling."

He shot me a tight-lipped smile and stepped back. "Yes, so you've said." He turned and headed for the door, calling over his shoulder, "Tea will be here in a few minutes. You'll have at least two cups—if I find out that you didn't, I'll give you the tacet through injection. Is that clear?"

I couldn't even muster the energy to respond.

***

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