Mother flinched.

“Your daughter cares deeply.” Ash’s low voice echoed throughout the chamber, bringing frost with it. “Even when doing so hurts her.”

My chest lurched. “It’s okay.”

“No, it is not.” Ash lifted a hand, and the table flipped high into the air, sending bowls and platters of food flying. It came back down, right on Callum. “Because none of those things has anything to do with who she has become.”

“Ash,” I said, stepping forward.

“Did any of them bow when you entered?” Ash asked.

“No,” Nektas answered with a smug smile before I could point out that I hadn’t given them time to or that there were far more important things to discuss.

“Perfect.” Shadows rose up Ash’s legs. “Bow.”

Everyone at the table began to lower themselves before him.

“Not to me,” Ash stopped them, swiping his arm toward me. “Bow to her, the One who is born of Blood and Ash, the Light and the Fire, and the Brightest Moon, the true Primal of Life and the Queen of the Gods and Common Man.”

“Oh, my gods,” whispered Marisol as she lowered herself to one knee, her mouth hanging open. Her parents did the same.

Everyone looked shocked. My mother couldn’t even move. But Ezra…

She smiled and shook her head as she lowered to her knee. “It makes sense,” she whispered, glancing at Marisol. Her eyes glistened as her gaze swung back to me.

“You do not bow?” Ash’s voice was like the crack of thunder that had torn through the room earlier. “Do I need to repeat myself for you to understand?”

“You do not.” My mother trembled, her throat working on a swallow. “I understood what you said. All of it.”

I stiffened, my back becoming as unbendable as an iron rod while my mother lowered herself to her knees. She bowed her head, blue jewels glittering in the mass of icy pinned curls.

I jerked as Ash shadowstepped to my mother’s side. “Ash.” I hurried forward. “Do not hurt her.”

He knelt at my mother’s side as smoky tendrils whipped inches from her cheek. “It is only by the grace of my wife that you live. I have told you that already,” he said as small bits of ice clung to the hem of her gown. “But I am willing to face her anger to ensure that your sharp tongue leaves no more cuts.” His head tilted. “Do you understand me?”

Trembling, my mother nodded.

“Ash,” I repeated. “That’s enough.”

The curve of his lips was achingly cold. “For now, it is.”

I opened my mouth, but Ash was suddenly in front of me. “Be angry with me later,” he requested, kissing me again. “I need to return.”

I wasn’t sure if I was all that angry. Still, I nodded. “Callum—”

“I’ll take him,” he said. “And I will ensure he’s given our best accommodations.”

Knowing he was talking about the dungeon, I snorted.

Ash left my side and raised a hand. The table flipped over, revealing a sprawled but no-longer-leaking Callum.

The Revenant was already healing.

Ash gripped him by the back of the neck as his silvery gaze briefly met mine. He then looked past me to where my mother remained kneeling. “Remember what I said.”

My mother’s head rose. She didn’t look at Ash. Her gaze was fastened on me. “I will.”

“Sorry about the table,” I said. Ash had returned to the Shadowlands with Callum, and we’d moved to one of the nearby sitting chambers. “I hope you all at least finished supper.”

Ezra arched a brow and lowered herself onto a forest-green settee. Marisol had accompanied her parents to a separate chamber in an attempt to calm them.

“And for the new cracks in the walls,” I added.

Nektas snorted from where he stood by the doors. I didn’t have to look at him to know he was eyeing my mother.

“We had just finished supper, and I suppose the dining hall was in need of a remodel.” Ezra smoothed the front of her waistcoat. There was nothing wrong with it. What she was doing was a nervous habit—the only sign she was disquieted by, well…everything. “So, you’re the Primal of Life? How is that even possible?”

The simple bluntness of her question made me grin. I didn’t think anyone would be able to handle this kind of news as well as she was, but then again, she’d known I had the power to restore life. As she had said in the dining hall, it made sense to her.

“It’s kind of a long story, and I don’t have much time,” I said.

“Can you not make some?” Ezra countered.

I laughed dryly. “There isn’t enough time in the realms for me to tell you everything. But I…” I sat on the edge of the chair across from her. “But I’ll tell you as much as I can.”

And I did, skipping over a lot, like how I’d been held captive, as well as Sotoria and her soul. I glossed over how close I’d come to dying. I also had to silence Ezra’s understandable questions regarding the part about who Kolis really was.

By the time I got to my Ascension and awakening as the true Primal of Life, Marisol had returned and sat next to her wife. She stared at me like she had never seen me before.

I couldn’t quite blame her for that as I smoothed my hands down my thighs. “So, yeah. That’s it.”

Ezra blinked and cleared her throat. “I am positive that is not it.”

I smiled. “It is for now—”

“I believed you had died,” Mother said.

My breath snagged as my gaze flew to where she sat. She hadn’t spoken—not once until now—but I kept hearing what she’d said to Ash.

Nektas unfolded his arms, but my mother continued.

“The Rot disappeared in a flash. It was just gone.” Her hands were still in her lap, but her knuckles were as white as Ezra’s had been. “Only one thing could’ve done that. I figured you’d somehow fulfilled what we believed to be your duty—”

“If I had succeeded in killing who we believed to be the true Primal of Death, it would have been a catastrophe,” I interrupted.

“I understand,” my mother replied. “But we didn’t know there was another way for the Rot to end. We’d only ever been told that the Rot would not lift until you killed the Primal of Death.”

“I thought the same,” Ezra said, drawing my attention back to her. “That you had succeeded by killing…” Her brows furrowed. “The correct one.” She gave a small shake of her head. “And we knew…”

“I wouldn’t have survived that,” I murmured. “I get it.”

“And Kolis?” Marisol asked, tucking a short strand of dark hair behind her ear. “He’s the true Primal of Death?”

“Yes. And he’s still alive. That’s why I came here today. But I need to know what Callum was doing here.” I cleared my throat. “And what he said.”

“He arrived two days ago, I believe. We’d just returned from Massene, where we celebrated the Rite with Princess Kayleigh and her family,” she said, and I tried not to think about the fate of the Chosen. Marisol’s fingers dropped to her cream-colored blouse. “I didn’t speak very much with him.” She glanced at Ezra.

“Neither did I,” Ezra told me. “He joined us for supper each night and mostly kept to himself outside of that.”

Which meant…

I twisted in my seat. “He is the one who told you how a Primal can be killed.”

My mother nodded curtly. “He arrived a few years after you were born and claimed he wanted to help us,” she said, staring at the gold and mauve wallpaper. “He knew about the deal, so I…I believed him.”

“He was right. That is how a Primal can be killed,” I said. “Did you speak to him?”

“A few times.” She swallowed. “He told me the Rot had lifted because you’d succeeded.”

“What?” I exclaimed at the same time Ezra did.

“You never told me that.” Ezra pitched forward to look around her wife.

“You already assumed she was dead,” my mother replied, the corners of her mouth tightening. “But I knew you harbored some hope that she still lived. I didn’t want to take that from you.” She looked at me then. “He spoke the truth about that.”