Later that evening.

"I don't understand why I can't see him," I said, staring at Cohen. He sat at the foot of my bed, Nadia standing next to him. My hair was still dripping from my bath and I was trembling slightly from the cold and weariness.

Nadia had done a lot of healing and had worked miracles to save my life, but my body was tired. Every joint and muscle aching as I fought to sit up instead collapsing against the pillows like my spine begged to do. I wanted to appear strong. To seem fine when I knew I was probably still a few days or weeks away from feeling like myself again.

Cohen sighed and said gently, "People here are uneasy, Monroe. Not everyone understands the dynamic. Not everyone trusts him like you do. And now that you're awake, Britta's set a date for the trials. We need to appear as a united, unbiased front. At least for now. Britta has asked that you give it time and space. There are a lot of rumors circulating about you and Kai and she needs them to settle. She understands that you want to see him and that he wants to see you. Believe me, we all know he wants to see you. But I think in the long run, Britta is probably right in wanting you to hold off. People talk. There are eyes and ears everywhere. My sister wants to control the narrative and I think it's a good idea to let her."

My eyes turned hot and I blinked back tears. "Her husband tried to kill all of us."

"That's totally different issue, Monroe," Nadia said, her voice soft, but not unkind. "And one that is being dealt with. Britta is beyond livid. She sent Darragh back to Pellarmus. What he did—What he tried to do to us...It was unacceptable and the soldiers that did survive the ambush were executed. It's being dealt with. I don't...I just don't want you to believe that it's not. Britta may not always make the best choices and she may not always be the kindest person, but no ruler is perfect. She has a lot to learn and unfortunately. Erydia has a long road ahead of itself." She glanced to Cohen before saying, "Give it a few days. We aren't trying to keep you from him forever. Just a little while longer. You need to rest and Britta needs to get the court and the country further under her control—that means all of the goddess-touched girls also staying in line and appearing loyal to her reign."

Cohen nodded. "I don't want any unnecessary attention drawn to you. Any of you."

"I want to see Kai."

"I know you do," Cohen said. "I know you do. But I'm asking you to wait. To let things settle. Let Britta take the lead on this. You'll get to see him. I promise you will."

"You've seen him. Nadia and Heidi have seen him," my voice broke. I jabbed a finger at the open door to my small closet of a sick room. "Heidi has been talking to him everyday. Why can't I see him for a few minutes? I'm not asking to free him, Cohen. I just want to make sure he's okay. I want him to see that I'm okay. It was... The last time I saw him..." My throat hurt, the tightness there so consuming I couldn't find room for words.

I had very few memories of the ballroom with Caine and even fewer memories of being in the garden with Kai. I knew that in those brief seconds, before and when I was burning, I didn't know him. I didn't remember anything about myself or who he was to me. And my heart wanted to see him again. Needed to see him.

"I'm asking as your friend," I whispered. "I'm asking to see him just as everyone else has."

He stared at me, his blue eyes sad. "I've talked a lot with my sister over the last few weeks. I know you don't like her. I know she's hurt you and she's made choices that have hurt your family. Choices that have robbed you of people and things you love. I know that, Monroe. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. For all of it. For all of my many mistakes and for all of hers. I know it isn't what you want to hear, but I have to trust her to be right in this. I need you to wait. Just a little longer."

I turned my face away, unwilling to let Nadia or Cohen see the hot tears streaking down my face. "What if she kills him?" I breathed. "What if I don't see him and she executes him? You say that people are uneasy. That they aren't sure about him. They don't like him. What if she listens? What if she decides he's too much of a risk and she kills him? What if she kills him and I don't get to see him before she does it? What if I don't get to tell him I love him? What if I don't get to tell him that I forgive him for everything? All of it. What if I don't get to tell him that I love him regardless? What if I don't get a goodbye? I didn't get one with Ambrose or Kace either. I don't get to ever hug my brothers again. I don't get to ever hear their voices or know the safety of them just being there. I won't ever just have brothers again. They will always be past tense to me. And I can't bear it if Kai becomes a memory. Especially when the best ones I have with him already happened so long ago they're fading. I don't want to forget him too."

Silence hung between us for a long moment.

Finally, Cohen said, "You're one of my best friends and I would never want to do anything to intentionally hurt you. I'm trying to walk the line between being a good friend and a good brother. I'm trying to figure what my place here is and, believe it or not, it's as unsteady as your own. I may not be the heir anymore, but I once was believed to be. And there have been whispers amongst some in the temple that the line of succession would still pass to me and not Britta if Kai were to die. I need to play my cards right. So do you. Kai's trial is in a weeks' time. I have to obey my sisters wishes until then. So do you. I'm sorry."

Cohen hugged me before he left and whispered against the top of my hair how sorry he was again. I nodded, but my heart hurt too much to do much else. Sleep was evasive and restless—and in the end, it was the frightened tears that finally lulled me to sleep.

***

I awoke to the smell of clove cigarettes and was already smiling before my eyes had even opened. Jade green eyes sparked against dark brown skin as Isla slid into the bed next to me. She wrapped her arms around me, enveloping me in a smell that was all her and all right. Cigarettes and saltwater and whiskey and sunshine. She pulled me right to her, my head cracked to her chest, her heartbeat steady in my ears.

Candle light flickered shadows on the walls of my bedroom and I sighed, my mind whirling with a million tiny questions and also the desire to stay still and just be held—I didn't have a sister and my mother was so very far away. If she still lived. And I needed the strong arms of another female to hold me together. A sister in spirit. I was fraying. Falling to pieces.

Isla's accented words were so very soft as she said, "I have so much I wish to say. But I want to start with this: I heard that the executions in Vayelle were real and that your brothers are..." She sighed, running a hand down my hair. "I heard that what you feared was true. I wanted to to write to you as soon as I got the confirmation but by then it had been a week or so and things were happening in Erydia. I knew by the time a letter arrived in Pellarmus to tell you of my feelings of sadness for you, you would likely not be there anymore to receive it. But now that I am here with you, I want to tell you, in whatever way I can." Her arms tightened around me. "I am so sorry, Monroe. I do not have...I cannot tell you in the right words what I feel." She pulled back from me slightly and pressed a hand to her chest. "I hurt for you. My heart is pained. It bleeds. I do not know what it is to lose brothers, but I have lost parents and the pain of that is..." she paused, thinking of the word she wanted to use. After a second she shook her head and settled on, "I would not wish it on you."

I buried my face in her shoulder, wrapped my arms around her. "Thank you."

Isla hummed to herself and whispered, "I wish I had better words to say. Darragh has always been the one with the gray tongue."

For a second, I didn't catch what she'd said, then I pulled back to look at her. "The one with what?"

Her dark brows furrowed. "You know, 'the gray tongue.'"

I pushed myself up until I was sitting against the headboard, Isla did the same. I pursed my lips, trying to hide my smile as I said, "I don't know what you mean by that."

She tugged nervously at the hem of her lilac sleep shirt and said, "He is clever. He speaks well. You have a saying for that, no? A gray tongue?"

I was grinning now, realization dawning. "'A silver tongue.'"

She shrugged and waved a hand. "Gray, silver—what does it matter? It is a color, no? All I mean is that he speaks better than me. But I guess he speaks not at all now that he has been sent home by his wife." She smiled at that, clearly pleased.

"He was going to have me killed. Me, Nadia, Cohen, and Kai."

"Yes, I heard." Isla slid off the bed and walked to a small dresser against the far wall. "Just after the battle ended, I was staying in a room near their's and you should have heard the fighting between my brother and Britta. She was..." Isla whistled and glanced at me. "My new sister has a temper on her. She is especially protective of her family." There was the soft clink of metal and then she was turning back to me, a round tin container in her hands.

Isla crawled onto the bed, sitting so her back was against the low footboard and placed the container on the bed between her crossed legs and mine. With a flourish she offered me a fork. I took it and watched as she uncovered the tin container to reveal half a cake hidden within.

I stared at her.

Isla only grinned wickedly and dug her fork directly into the cake, not even bothering to cut it properly.  "The kitchens here in Erydia are just like mine at home. The cooks are always hiding things away and I know all the best places to look. Comes with being a princess, I think."

"So you found and stole half a cake?"

"If we are to cry, Monroe, we might as well have cake while we do it, no?" The words and the way she shoved the forkful of cake into her mouth reminded so much of Uri, tears welled in my eyes so quickly I couldn't stop them. "See," Isla said through a mouthful of cake, jabbing her fork towards me.

I sighed and scooped out my own bite of cake. I thought while I chewed and once I'd swallowed I worked up the courage to ask her, "Did you spend very much time with Princess Uriel?"

Isla paused, her fork of cake halfway to her mouth. She hesitated before setting it down. After a moment she said, "Yes...and no. We spent many summers together, especially when we were very young. But she was the youngest of our group and usually was left out of our games. The two years difference between Uri and Cohen seemed so big when we were kids. She was smaller and she cried more. We could outrun her and so we  did. When we did let her play, we gave her bad roles in our games or made sure she lost. But she was strong-willed, always was." Isla swallowed and glanced at me—her expression uncharacteristically nervous. "What makes you ask?"

"You remind me of her."

An expression passed over Isla's face, something akin to surprise and regret. "My mother used to say that Uri worshipped the ground I walked on. I was the girl closest in age to her. I was three years older than she was so I think she saw her future in me. I had more independence than she did, even as a little girl. My mother never held tight to me. I was allowed to do whatever I pleased, whenever I pleased. I had friends and attended parties. And I think Uri wanted to be me. But I think her life was not...she could not have that. She did not have friends like I did. She was leashed here in Erydia. Kept behind walls. And her siblings all had roles to play. Britta was always looking out for her siblings and pushing back against her mother in small ways. Larkin was her mothers creature. And Cohen was training with his father night and day to take the crown. Uri was no one to anyone. And I think she saw herself in me in that way too, especially as we got older. I was in a similar situation since Darragh would ultimately be king and I had no position in court. I was free to do anything I pleased until marriage. The same seemed to be the case for Uri. Or...I assumed it was."

It hadn't been. She'd had feelings for Dellacov and I wasn't sure she ever had the opportunity to act on it for fear of her mother lashing out. Uri had been robbed of a lot of different things and while I'd always admired her boldness and her flippant attitude towards decorum and tradition, looking back it was easy to see that it was a mask.
Cohen had worn one for much of my Culling and I'd learned to see through it, but Uri's mask was so close to the truth of herself that it was hard to decide what was real and was a smoke screen.

Uri was always on my mind, but just then, with Isla sitting across from me, I didn't know how to feel. All at once, I had much craved company and yet I felt so alone. As if a ghost sat across from me. And I knew—I knew—that Isla wasn't Uri. They weren't identical and it truly wasn't fair to even compare them. But it was difficult when they were so similar. Both of them so different from what their world and their families would have them be.

But Uri wasn't the sort to curse or smoke cigarettes. She was wild and silly, but she wasn't as gruff or sharp as Isla. She wasn't a fighter or a soldier. She didn't know how to wield a weapon. They definitely didn't quite carry themselves the same.

And I knew that even though the memory of Uri was fading in my ming day by day, she had burned brighter to me than Isla did. Not that I didn't love Isla, but Uri had held out her hand when I'd needed someone. She'd been there when I'd had no one and there was no replacing that. We'd needed each other, Uri and me.

Isla, on the hand, needed no one. She was her own person. She was brave and strong and so very powerful. If she ever called for me, I'd be there to help her in an instant, but I knew she could fight her own battles and she knew that I could fight mine. But there had been a time where that wasn't the case for me, and Uri had been there for me then.

Uri had been full of unbridled confidence. It made me sad to think that she'd likely learned that skill in order to survive in court where she had no reason to exist. She'd had to prove herself time and time again. If she couldn't be the heir or the smart one or the prettiest, then she'd be the wildest. She'd be entertaining. I hated, more than anything, that she'd never gotten the chance to have the one person she'd wanted, the person who actually wanted her for who she was.

Isla's voice broke through my thoughts. "I was not always as kind to her as I wish I had been. I did not like being followed around and I teased her. I made her play the ugly hag in all of our pretend games. We were all cruel to her and she was...Uriel was..." Isla muttered something in her own language trying to sort out her words and then settled on. "She was too patient and kind. I think she was used to being ignored. So she was happy to have any role in any game. And as we got older the games we played turned less into games and more into...well, they became more...more real." Isla cleared her throat and shrugged. "I feel as if this conversation has turned into a confession of sorts," she whispered, a nervous laugh escaping her.

I shook my head and leaned back, shaking my head. "It's okay. I just thought you seemed similar, like maybe she admired you. And it sounds like she did. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. I didn't mean to prompt you into giving me any information you aren't comfortable with."

Isla pursed her lips and nodded. She took another bite of cake. The silence stretched between us for a long time, not uncomfortable, but present. It was late, but without windows or a clock, I couldn't know the exact time. The hallway beyond the cracked door was dark, the rest of the palace silent. Isla's socked feet and her thin tunic and leggings led me to believe she'd woken for a midnight snack and sought me out.

I'd just decided to ask her the time when she blurted—

"I told you that Hugo Dellacov was my first kiss and that it did not matter at all. I told you that we were playing hide-and-go-seek. Darragh found me kissing Hugo and it was a mess. I told you that Hugo—I told you he was not thinking at all about Uri when he kissed me. That the age difference was too big and he did not think of her like that. And that part is true, I guess. I do not think he was thinking of Uri's feelings." Her tone had turned serious, her eyes nearly shining with unshed tears. "What I did not say, was that I knew and Larkin knew that Uri was thinking about Hugo. That she had feelings for him. She believed him handsome. I was friends with Larkin and Kinsley back then. They were like sisters to me, especially since they were in a romantic relationship and I was...I was questioning a lot about myself and my sexuality. I am not using that as an excuse, Monroe. What I did was terrible and I knew better. I did. And I honestly do not know why I am even saying all of this, I think you just brought her up and I feel like maybe I should tell someone and you are as good a person as anyone. And maybe once it is told I can be done with it. I cannot apologize to Uriel anymore, though I had many opportunities to do so and did not have the courage."

I stared at her for a long moment and then nodded. "Okay."

Isla cleared her throat. "I was fourteen, he was thirteen, Uri would have been eleven, maybe just turned twelve. She was old enough to have started to have feelings for people around her own age. What happened is not a big deal. I feel like I am making it sound like it is a huge thing, but the situation is exactly as I said. We played a game and I kissed Hugo. It was at Larkin's prodding. Me, Larkin, and Kinsley sat up the night before and she read a note that Uri had written about Hugo. Larkin laughed about it." Isla blew out a breath and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "She was terrible, even then. But when you are kids, you want to be liked and you laugh at the joke even when you know it is not good to do so. And so I laughed. I laughed and I when Larkin and Kinsley plotted to hurt Uri and they made me the pawn, I agreed. I saw Hugo hide and I went in after him. I timed it just right, just as Larkin told me to. And when Darragh opened the door, with Uri standing just behind him, Hugo was kissing me. And look on her face..." Isla closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "It was as if I'd taken something precious from her. It meant nothing to me, but that moment meant something to Uri. I know she remembered it. Thought about it. I worry it made her feel inadequate in some way. I hope it didn't, I know Larkin tried to make sure it did."

The urge to be mad in Uri's stead was strong, but my exhaustion was stronger. Instead I asked, "Is Larkin still alive?"

Isla nodded. "Imprisoned and on tacit. Britta is still trying to decide what to do. She and Cohen have been discussing it."

"Kinsley is dead," I said.

"I know," she said. "Remains were badly burned when we found them, but they were enough for us to be sure it was her."

It was implied that I'd been the one to do it, but I hadn't been and I didn't have the energy to correct her. Instead, I cleared my throat and said, "And after Uri saw the kiss?"

Isla rubbed a hand against her neck and whispered, "She was sad. She held it together very well, but I saw it. I know Hugo did as well. We left very soon afterward, my brother was convinced despite my arguing, that something deeper was at play between me and the guard. But every meal with them after it happened, Larkin did her very best to rile Uri. I do not know if Queen Viera or King Malcolm were ever aware of what had happened or of Uri's feelings for Hugo, but I know it would not have gone over well. He likely would have been dismissed, at the very least."

Killed, more likely.

Isla continued, "My friendship with Kinsley and Larkin ended after that. I knew that Larkin continued to use me to hurt her sister. Even as Uri got older, Larkin would say mean things to her. Things about her having 'my leftovers.'" Isla sighed. "I should have apologized to her a long time ago. I should have told Uri that the kiss meant nothing and that I was sorry for doing something I knew would hurt her. I didn't want to kiss Hugo. I didn't even like kissing boys. Still don't. I only kissed him then because I felt like I needed to in order to keep my friends. I knew no one else who was like me and I was clinging to the feeling of belonging. I clung tightly to wrong people.  I know that every time she saw me or heard I might visit, it was reminder of that moment. That insecurity. And I know that it was just a child's game, a moment from when I was fourteen; but that moment, though it was small, has bothered me for years. Especially since I heard how she died. Especially since I found out that she was put in Larkin's dress and chained to Larkin's throne and murdered in Larkin's place. The look on Uri's little eleven-year-old face has haunted me for years, but I haven't been able to forget it since the moment I found out she died believing that  Hugo Dellacov would save her."

"Uri's death has not been an easy one to look past," I whispered. "It was terrible. Terrible to witness in so many ways. And she deserved better in life and in death. And I miss her every day," I said, leaning forward to stab at what remained of the cake. "Every single day. And she would have liked this cake. She would have eaten all of it by herself." I chewed and swallowed that mouthful, savoring it as I remembered my friend as she was when I first met her. When I looked at Isla again I said gently, "And while I don't think it's my place to give you forgiveness for a wrong that wasn't committed against me, I will say this—I think Uri would have forgiven you for what happened with Dellacov. And for all the times you weren't as nice as you ought to have been."

Isla bit her bottom lip and pushed her black hair behind her shoulder. "What makes you say that?"

"Because I once betrayed her entire family, gave her enemy information that lead them directly into the heart of her home and allowed them to destroy her entire kingdom, and she forgave me for that. She still loved me. She was still my best friend, even afterward. I think if she can find forgiveness for that, she can find forgiveness for anything."

Isla sighed and nodded, turning her attention back to the tin of cake as she whispered. "I hope you are right."

"I am."

***

At least an hour had passed, the cake was merely crumbs, and my eyes were drooping with exhaustion when Isla finally said, "You haven't said anything. I thought for sure you'd say something. Were you surprised?"

She'd just finished a cigarette and was crushing the butt of it against the top of what I suspected might be a very expensive, very old temple urn. She hadn't been able to pry the lid off—hint number one—and there was a plaque on the outside of it that had a nearly faded name and a date etched in it—hint number two. Neither of which had hindered Isla from snatching it from off of a nearby shelf to use for her purposes.

Now the room smelled of spices with just a tinge of vanilla. Thin waves of smoke danced along the ceiling and I watched them, my vision unfocused as I tried to keep myself awake. It had to be the early morning hours and I was losing the fight.

"Well?" Isla prompted. "Were you?"

"Surprised about what?" I asked, pulling the blankets around myself. I still sat against the headboard with her opposite me.

"Annalise."

My eyes snapped open. "What about her?"

"She is here. You saw her just this morning."

"No I didn't."

Isla nodded. "Yes, you did. She is the one that told me you were awake. She said that you were out of your mind from the sedatives, Nadia's ability, and the pain medications, but you were awake. Annalise was telling me all sort of shit you were saying. You were talking about Viera and yelling at Britta about working alone and—"

I shook my head, "What are you talking about?"

"Do you really not remember?"

"I don't remember, Isla. I saw Britta earlier today, but that was only a few hours ago. Annalise was never here."

"No, this was early. Like first thing this morning. You were just starting to wake up." She shrugged and waved me off, "Anyway, no matter. Annalise is here. In Erydia. She came to help with all the injured from the fighting in the capital."

I stared pointedly at Isla. "And that's all she's here for? To aid with the injured?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

Isla pressed her lips together to hide her smile and ducked her head. "That is all she is here for."

"Ah, yes. For sure," I said, nodding sagely. We stared at each other. I said, "And I'm just here to light candles."

Isla's mouth turned into a wide grin, her brown skin flushing even darker as she said, "You are terrible."

"And you're a liar," I reached forward and shoved her shoulder, knocking her backward slightly. "I don't believe for even one second that Annalise is here by chance. She knew you'd be here. She had to have known."

Isla swallowed and said, "I don't want to get my hopes up. It is still very early."

I shrugged. "I think maybe it's better to let hope soar freely than to clip its wings and keep it caged out of fear. At this point, I'd rather be hurt later and hope today than have nothing to cling to. I need something."

She studied me. "I have come to like Justinian. We are good friends. Decent allies. And we...we have an understanding. A similarity, you might say."

"Oh?"

Isla nodded and cleared her throat, her voice turning quiet as she said, "I have no wish to marry a man and Justinian has no wish to marry a woman."

"Really?"

She nodded. "He has a partner, Xavier. They've been together for three years."

I grinned. "Allies indeed."

"They were both very kind to me during my stay in Haniver. I never felt uncomfortable. And it was...it has honestly been nice. They have taken me to clubs and dance halls and I've met so many others with similar..." she smiled, "sexual preferences. It has been a relief. I have made a lot of friends in Haniver. I have never felt more free."

"When did you and Justinian discuss this?" I asked. "When did he tell you?"

Isla glanced away from me, worrying the blanket between her fingers as she said, "The first night we arrived in Haniver, he walked me to my room and stood in doorway for a long time. I thought...he had already told me that he would not force himself on me, but men can be..." she lifted and shoulder and let it drop. "I was worried he wanted me to kiss him. Or he wanted to kiss me. Or that maybe he would want more than that. And things with Annalise were still so fresh and my heart hurt so badly. I was sick for home and afraid and... I opened my mouth to tell him goodnight and the next thing I knew I was sobbing."

"Oh, Isla."

"It all sort of came out of me then," she said. "Thankfully he had moved me into my room and the shut the door before I had said too much, but I told him everything. I told him that I did not want to marry him. That my brother forced the engagement on me because he needed allies to help him win Erydia. I told him that I did not want to have sex with him or carry his heirs. I told him that I could not imagine it." Isla closed her eyes. "I pretend to be brave because it is my duty to do so, but I had nightmares for weeks leading up to my engagement to Justinian."

My face fell and I reached across the bed to take her hand. "I'm so sorry, Isla."

She swallowed. "I do not know what I expected him to say, but it was not that he agreed with me. That was a surprise. I did not expect him to tell me that he did not want to marry me either. I did not expect him to tell me that he had been seeing the same man for the last three years and had intended to put off a wedding to me for as long as possible. Hearing Justinian say that..." Isla closed her eyes. "It was something I had not even dreamed of."

"So what will the two of you do now?"

"A union between the two of us would be undesirable, not because we do not like one another as people but because it would be dishonest to our hearts. We would not be happy together. We agree on that. With Darragh away in Pellarmus, I have had the opportunity to speak to Britta and she has given me her support to break off my engagement with Justinian. Darragh will be mad, since it goes directly against his orders to me, but after his actions with all of you over the last few weeks, she does not seem to care what he thinks. Britta says it is my choice and she will support whatever decision I make."

"Will Justinian's father not be angry if a union doesn't take place? He sent his army and fleets to aid us under the agreement that you would wed his son."

"Britta has drafted documents and begun making the necessary withdraws from the Erydian treasury to cover any sort of demand the Haniver king might make. But Justinian does not believe his father will demand anything of us. As he has said, he has become good friends with Cohen over the last few weeks and has made long-lasting diplomatic ties with Britta, and that will help Haniver far more than any wedding to me ever would. My sister-in-law is set to rule in both Pellarmus and Erydia. I would not be surprised if she eventually makes moves for Vayelle if they do not back down, though I think they already are removing their forces."

"So you'll be released from your engagement to Justinian then? You won't have to return to Haniver?"

"We will both be released," she nodded. "Both free to live where we want and be with the people we love."

It fell quiet.

"Well then, it's too bad Annalise is only here to help with the injured," I mused, glancing to Isla.

The princess pursed her lips, trying to hide her smile as she said, "You are an asshole, Monroe Benson."

My smile only widened as I said, "Isla, I hope you get your happy ending. I really do. You deserve it."

Isla swallowed and held my gaze, her own eyes shining. I knew she was thinking of Kai, thinking of the trial that would soon take place and the decision that would decide my future. I clung to hope, let the frantic feathers of its wings beat against my cupped palms as I lifted it high above my head, pleading silently for it to fly. Fly so far away that hope would become reality.

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