Holfast was right, of course. It wasn’t as if Marai hadn’t known or expected . . . she’d gotten swept up in the fantasy of it all.

But what would Ruenen think? She knew he wouldn’t accept Holfast’s words. Ruenen would fight against any betrothal, but eventually, he’d have no choice. He had a duty, as all kings did before him.

There was a part of Marai that wanted to run. To grab her black cloak and disappear into the night, so she could shut out the breaking of her heart. But she couldn’t become the Butcher again. She couldn’t erect the walls and hide from the world anymore.

I’ll talk to him. Tonight, when we’re alone, we’ll discuss this together.

That was the right thing to do. They’d started this journey together. They would find an answer.

“Marai, are you alright?”

Marai whipped around. Keshel strode towards her, pack slung over his shoulder. Another larger one was strapped to his back.

“I’m fine,” she blurted, then her mind began to comprehend Keshel’s appearance. “Are you leaving?”

“It’s time, I think.”

“You don’t want to stay until the end of the feast? Did you say goodbye to the others?”

“Yes, during dinner. I thought it was best to slip away,” he said, studying Marai’s face. He clearly didn’t believe she was fine. “Will you remain here in Nevandia?”

“I have no intention of leaving Ruenen,” she stated firmly. “I suppose I need to decide what kind of life I want to lead, as Holfast so aptly reminded me . . .”

Keshel stepped closer. “You could become Queen of the Fae. You could leave, take up your birthright, and unite the magical folk of this continent.”

“Leave and go where? I have no kingdom, Keshel,” said Marai with a shake of her head. “I don’t even know if I want to be Queen of the Fae.”

There was an eagerness in Keshel’s voice as he said, “I think the gods are telling us something. You’re meant to lead your people, Marai. I’ve had visions recently. Visions of you, of the future. You don’t need to stay here. You owe Ruenen nothing. You saved his kingdom. You can come with us.”

“I won’t leave Ruenen. This is where I choose to be,” Marai said, then halted. “What do you mean ‘us’?”

Keshel’s face burned with excitement. “I didn’t want to say before when you were still healing: I met another faerie.”

Keshel’s words punched Marai in the stomach. “How?”

“Well, actually, he found us. He’s the one who traveled here with Tarik’s group.” Keshel grinned.

This was why he’d been acting so strange. He’d been sneaking off to talk to another faerie!

“Oh, here he is now—”

Footsteps approached from the courtyard entrance. A man, with a small pack slung over his shoulder, strolled across the cobblestones. He had dark skin and bright silvery eyes. His knit cap covered shiny black hair and pointed fae ears. He was strikingly handsome . . . and also familiar.

“Marai, this is Koda,” Keshel said, gesturing to the stranger.

Koda grinned and bowed to Marai. “We meet again.”

The man on the docks in Cleaving Tides who’d bought her fish, had urged Marai to come to Andara.

“I remember you,” Marai said in disbelief.

Koda’s grin widened. “I’m honored. I’ve been hoping to run into you again.”

A strange, wary feeling crept under her skin. Koda seemed too eager. Although, Marai supposed that a solitary fae would be excited to meet more of his kind . . .

“I’ve been tracking you ever since Cleaving Tides, when I helped free your prince, or rather, king, from Rayghast’s hunters,” he said.

“I thought perhaps you were behind his escape,” Marai replied.

“I watched the battle from afar. I saw your powers.” Koda’s eyes glistened in the moonlight. “You’re something special, Marai. Truly magnificent! And Keshel told me that you’re Meallán’s descendant.”

Unease slithered along her spine. Marai didn’t like the way Koda was moving towards her; how he knew so many things about her, and she didn’t know a thing about him.

“Weren’t you going to Andara?” She took one step backwards towards the castle doors.

“Yes, that’s where Lord Keshel and I are headed now. There are more of us there. I told you—Andara is a fascinating place, full of magic. Many magical folk took up residence there to escape the massacres, not to mention the native-borns.” Koda animatedly told his story with gestures and gleaming eyes. Next to him, Keshel was enraptured with each word. “We get along with our human compatriots.”

It sounded too good to be true. Whatever secrets isolated Andara housed, Marai wasn’t interested in seeing first-hand at the moment.

“Come with us,” Koda continued. “My fellow fae will be thrilled to have a faerie queen leading us once again. We’d welcome you with open arms. What’s there for you here? Nevandia may be trying to usher in change, but it’ll be slow and dangerous.”

“All the more reason for me to stay,” Marai said, trying to keep her tone polite.

Koda’s smile disappeared. “There’s much you don’t know. Besides, there’s someone very important who wants to meet you.”

Keshel was frowning now, glancing between Marai and Koda.

“Whoever they are, they can come here and meet me, if they so desire,” said Marai, sharpening her words into a spear. She no longer feigned politeness. “I’m not going to Andara.”

“That’s fine, Marai,” Keshel began, sensing the rising tension. “I’ll let you know what I discover.”

Koda sighed. “What a shame.”

He raised a hand, and Marai reached for Dimtoir.

But then she remembered it wasn’t there, at her hip. It had been broken by dark magic on the battlefield. In fact, Marai had no weapons strapped to her that night. A careless move. She reached for her magic, but she was already too late . . .

Magic slammed into her body. Cold seeped in, paralyzing every muscle.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe or blink.

But she could see.

People in the courtyard had frozen in place. All the Nevandian and Greltan guards stationed at each entrance, several citizens dancing in the streets. Even Keshel hadn’t been able to produce a shield fast enough.

Marai reached once again for her magic, but it was frozen, too; a giant block of ice sitting within the depths of her.

The only thing moving was Koda.