Dawn was still far off, the sun sound asleep. Every house embraced the darkness, its occupants lost in their dreams.

We didn't find any open carriage stalls or horses, so we reached the palace on foot. By the time we reached the gates, I was panting, my legs and stomach burning.

Kirin fared no better. The guards took a moment to authorize our entry and we sprinted in as best as we could.

Inside, the entire palace was in chaos. People ran helter-skelter, shouting orders and requests. A flurry of greys and bright, undetered colours sprung around as servants and courtiers alike darted around.

I caught sight of a familiar figure. "Ella!" I shouted, hoping my voice would carry.

She stopped and twisted around, her eyes going wide as they landed on mine. She tackled me with a fierce hug. "Where have you been?" she exclaimed, looking me over. Her eyes were rimmed with red, as if she'd been crying. "Do you know how worried I was? I thought you were dead!"

I shook my head slightly. "What happened? Why's everyone running around?"

"Where were you?" she asked again. "There was an attack and . . .," she glanced hesitantly at Kirin. "I'm sorry."

Kirin's expression changed instantly. "What happened?" he demanded.

"It was Lord Roran . . ." Kirin was off before the words completely formed.

"Where?" I asked.

"The infirmary."

"Thank you," I managed before I chased Kirin. I caught up to him easily, telling him where to go.

The throng of people outside the infirmary was enormous. We pushed and elbowed, surging through the mass and finally reaching the doors. They were shut and a stern-looking healer stood at the entrance, strictly telling people off.

"Please," said Kirin, "I need to see my father."

Her eyes turned to me and I realized she was waiting for my permission. I nodded and she opened the door just enough for us to squeeze through.

The infirmary was crowded with beds pushed against each other. The healers were in a flurry of activity. It had never been this crowded in all the time I had been here. The wounded lay on the beds, some moaning while others lay painfully still.

We asked a healer who pointed us in the direction of Larkin. In the corner of the room, with curtains covering his bed, was Larkin. The healer tending to him didn't even look up when we entered.

"Oh, Larkin," I breathed. His torso was bare, boasting the wide hole in his stomach. I couldn't tell how deep it was, since blood pooled in and around it. The healer dabbed a cloth on his wound, the white quickly turning a deep red. Larkin was breathing heavily, sweat beading his forehead.

He grinned when he saw us. "Ah, hello."

The nurse finished cleaning his wound and pressed a cloth against his stomach, sealing it in place. She then looked at Kirin.

"The wound is serious and needs immediate medical attention," she said. "The organs inside have been severely damaged. We need to perform a surgery to clean up the internal damage and then, stitch up the wound. There has been a large amount of blood loss, so the recovery process might take longer than normal. We are having a group of experienced healers brought in to start the surgical process. They shall be here soon."

Kirin nodded numbly. The nurse hesitated. "Might I have a word in private?"

Kirin and the healer nurse stepped outside and I was left with Larkin.

"What happened?" I asked, looking at his face. If I looked at the wound I would probably lose it.

"Oh, a bit of fighting. It appears I am not as sprightly as I was in my youth," he gave me a wonky smile.

"You don't say," I commented, dryly. The mask covering the burnt half of his face was gone. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here."

"Don't be. You would have gotten hurt as well. You should have seen the man who stabbed me, he had a face like a crow," he chuckled to himself.

"Are you drugged?"

"They gave me something to drink."

I shook my head. I had never seen Larkin intoxicated. A group of healers walked in and ordered me to leave while they healed their patient. I said good-bye to Larkin and ducked out.

Kirin was leaning against the wall, staring intently at the ground. He had his arms crossed over his chest as if to ward off conversation, but the droop in his shoulders showed what he really felt.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Kirin didn't move and I thought he hadn't heard me. Then he shifted, standing a bit taller, but keeping his shoulders slumped.

"He's not going to make it."

An icy hand grabbed my heart, squeezing it. I found it hard to breathe.

"What?"

"He's lost too much blood and his insides are damaged too much to heal him soon enough. The healers are doing their best, but he won't last the night."

The hand dragged its sharp nails down my heart and lungs, leaving a trail of growing frost. My heart pumped to ward off the cold, but nothing it did could alleviate the chill. The effort brought tears to my eyes. "No, he can't."

Kirin looked at the ceiling and blinked rapidly. "It's good news for you, though. One less rebel to worry about." His voice was laced with so much venom I was surprised the ice coating my heart wasn't laced with it.

He pushed himself off the wall and walked away, leaving me with my bones of ice.

I stood there until a healer told me to move out of the way. I made my way to the door and only stopped when someone called out my name. I looked around and spotted a lanky boy making his way towards me. A bandage was wrapped around his head, but otherwise he looked unharmed.

A pair of arms folded around me and I held on to the embrace. "Are you alright?" I asked when he pulled away.

Lyon smiled and my shoulders rose with the relief.

"Let's get out of here. I'll tell you what happened later."

We walked to my room, the corridors a lot less crowded, allowing the cool air from the night to rub my arms. My entire body felt heavy, as if it were being dragged down by the ice that had now lodged permanently in my insides.

Lyon sat down with evident comfort. He prodded the wound on his head and winced.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"Long story."

"Excellent. It's going to take hours for sunrise so we might as well finish swapping tales now," Lyon said. There was something in his voice that hadn't been there before. He spoke with a bite to his tone, as if he resented the very idea of talking.

I took a seat on the sofa. "Do you want to go first?" he asked and I shook my head. My story could wait.

Lyon crossed his legs and made himself comfortable on the bed.

"I was asleep when it began. I don't know exactly how it started, but I woke up to screaming outside my door. I took my sword and looked out, but the shouts had passed. The guards outside were gone, though, and so I walked down the corridor silently. Then I heard more shouts and ran towards the sound. By then I was pretty sure this was an inside attack. I at first thought it would be the rebels, because of what you said, but it wasn't. They were a group of men, all clad in black and covering their faces. They were, in fact, fighting against the rebels. The entire group of people who had accompanied Roran - Larkin - were out fighting, including Lady Sasha. They fought like whirlwinds. I can see where you get your fighting skills from. Anyway, I joined in to help them and we had almost finished when some prick stabbed Roran. He fell and by then the guards had arrived. We let them deal with the rest of the attackers. Someone sounded the alarm. Roran's people didn't want to let go of him, but in they end they let him be taken to the infirmary, along with the other wounded."

He let out a long breath but wasn't finished. "I recognized one of the attackers. It was Immanuel."

My brows furrowed. Lyon continued, "And do you know the one person this fight conveniently did not wake up? Aaron."

The way he said his father's name frightened me. Lyon had never truly agreed with his father, but I had never known him to hate him. Now, though, he seemed to dislike nothing more. When I thought about, I realized his dissatisfaction with his father had always been present. Especially in the last few days after the rebel hunt, Lyon had been addressing his father with steely reserve. Now that I thought of it, he had been that way since even before, only it hadn't been so prominent at that time.

"I went up to his room and the first thing he does is order a bottle of wine. The palace had just been attacked and his son was bleeding and all he cared about was wine. After he had a drink he faked sorrow at Roran being hurt. Then he drank some more. I waited until he was completely intoxicated and asked him if he did this. He said yes. Then I asked him why he did it, and do you know what he said?" I shook my head, watching as even the little respect he had for his father was stripped away. "He said he did it for fun. A man is dying and he did it for fun," Lyon snapped. "Then I told him he wasn't worthy of being a king and that mother would have done a better job. Then he said mother wouldn't have had the breath to say that when there was sword through her stomach."

My hands flew to my mouth. "He did not . . ."

"Yes, he did. He said so himself. He got tired of her and had her killed," his voice cracked. He looked down and took a deep breath. I didn't know what to say. From experience I knew that consoling words did nothing to alleviate the pain, so I stayed silent.

"I would have killed him then and there," he said with a laugh, "but there were guards outside and they would hear him. So I left. Someone found me later in the arena and demanded I go to the infirmary. The cut had bled out and my face was caked in blood."

He looked back at me. "Can I join you?"

"Join me?"

"In your plan? To kill the king?"

"I . . .," I hesitated, taken aback. He said it so easily, as if killing one's own father was not an enormous feat. "I don't know."

"If you're worried about tainting my innocence, don't worry, someone else did it already. All these years I thought she tripped down the stairs and broke her neck. All these years . . . So, tell me your story."

I did. I left out the part where Kirin and I talked after getting out of the warehouse. Lyon frowned. "What did they do to her?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. I think they injected her with something. She was dead in there." I shuddered as I remembered. She couldn't even feel the wounds. "That room is a wreck now, though. Everything is burnt down."

"Good."

I sat down beside him. "Get some rest."

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep."

But we slept like rocks. The exhaustion of the day overpowered the images of battle and sleep came easily.

A little before dawn I was woken up by a knock on the door. I rubbed my eyes and looked around, taking a minute to remember where I was. The knocking sounded again and I pushed myself up. I had been sleeping on a sliver of the bed since Lyon sprawled out, taking up the entire space.

I opened the door just as a man was turning. I recognized him as Perseus, the man who was engaged to Gabriella. His face was set in stone when he said, "He wants to see you." Then he turned and walked away, expecting me to follow.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as we followed. My stomach hurt from yesterday. I was led to Larkin's room. Perseus held the door open and shut it behind me after I entered.

Larkin lay on the bed, face pale with his struggle to stay alive. The bandage around his stomach was dripping red. Next to him stood Sasha and Kirin. Sasha's eyes had misted over, her face stained with tears. Kirin looked almost ready to cry.

Larkin's head turned when I entered. "Ah, my girl." The strain in his voice frightened me.

"You're looking better," I said, aiming for levity.

Larkin chuckled. "Thank you. These two are as joyous as rainclouds."

I took his hand, eyes raking over his wound. "You know, you should have stayed inside. Youth is definitely not your thing. Especially now that you look like you've aged twelve years."

"I think I still look handsome for my age," he grumbled and I smiled. I ignored the prickle in my eyes.

"Very," I agreed. "Didn't I tell you on the first day itself that you were growing slow? You should have listened to me."

"When do I ever listen to anyone?"

I feigned exasperation. "I'm going to have to take you out on a leash if you're going to be this childish."

His chuckles turned into a serious bout of coughing. The panic that I had tried to shove down drowned me instantly.

"Don't do this to me," I whispered, my vision swimming. "You can't."

His grip on my hand tightened. "It's time, Thalia. You must . . . begin."

My eyes widened and I shook my head. "I can't do this without you."

"You won't be alone." His eyes shifted to Kirin and Sasha. "They'll help."

Kirin's brows furrowed in confusion, but Sasha nodded. I guessed Larkin had told her already. "We'll help," she promised.

"Tell," Larkin took a shuddering breath, "others."

Sasha just kept nodding through her tears.

Larkin looked at the ceiling. Despite the pain etched on his face he smiled. "Kayla, Imris" he breathed, "finally." Then he spoke no more.

...

The funeral was scheduled to take place as the sun rose.

I had left a few minutes after he died, allowing Sasha and Kirin to tell the others.

I stormed into my room, waking Lyon. He sat up, alert immediately. "What -," he noticed my face and put two and two together.

"I'm sorry."

I slammed the door to the bathroom shut and sank into water so hot it turned my skin red. My bruises protested but I ignored them. I deserved the pain.

Kayla had been Larkin's actual wife. Sasha was simply there for the purpose of the plan.

The first time he had told me what happened to make him hate the king was when I was fourteen. I had just come back from an unsuccessful training session. We had been talking and I had asked him what happened to his face. I'd always been curious, but refrained from asking.

"It was a long time ago," he said. I had expected him to leave it at that, but he continued. "I had a wife named Kayla. She was the most beautiful woman in the world and I loved her more than I had loved anyone in my entire life. We had a son named Imris. He was four, still a child. On the day of his fourth birthday, we were celebrating in our house. I remember he had gone up to his room to get a toy. That was when the guards burst in. Aaron wasn't with them, but they stated they were here under his orders. I told Kayla to go and check on Imris, but the guards told her to stay. I protested, saying we needed to make sure he was alright, and Kayla moved, but a guard shot her. The arrow pierced her heart through cleanly. I was shocked more than anything else. I watched the blood splutter out of her and the way her eyes widened. She opened h er mouth, but she was dead before she hit the ground. The guards made their way up and I grew furious. One thing led to another and suddenly the entire house was burning. I tried to go up to Imris' room, but the fire was to strong, Someone pulled me out, but I broke from their grip. I ran to go to Imris' room. I could still hear him crying, calling out for his father to help him. The fire raged and spluttered, catching me in the face. I was in agony, but a part of me wasn't afraid. My wife was dead and my son was going to die as well. I might as well go with them. I passed out, then. When I woke up, I had lost my wife, my son and half of my face. For a long time, I just wanted to die, but then I remembered the cause for all this and found that I wasn't the only one who hated the king. I gathered a group of people who detested him as much as I did and we formed an alliance. That's how we got here."

Tears dripped off my chin and hit the water, mingling with it.

When I finally got out of the bath, Lyon was gone. I got dressed and plaited my hair down my back. The sun was peering out now, unsure of what lay ahead.

I dressed in a simple black dress. Lyon came with me to the funeral. Aaron was present as well, and he issued a blood curling speech about how honorable Roran was. I could feel the collective hatred for the man standing up front and was genuinely impressed with the fact that no one killed him then and there.

Sasha burned his body and I watched the embers curl into the sky, aware of the confused looks people were throwing me. Sasha must have told them Larkin's plan and they were probably torn between their earlier dislike for me and appreciation for Larkin.

I didn't cry. I had exhausted all my tears earlier that morning. All I felt was a gnawing emptiness where my heart had been.

Kirin caught up to me after the funeral, confirming what I had guessed.

"Sasha told us," he said, glancing unsurely at Lyon. 

Kirin was dressed in black just like everyone else. The black made the colour of his eyes stand out, especially when the sun brushed them.

"You should have told me."

I shook my head. "I couldn't."

He cast a glance at Lyon again, willing him to go away, but Lyon didn't budge.

"The others are still digesting the news," he said. I nodded. It was understandable.

"Call them all for a meeting after breakfast. It's time we finished this."