“Yes. There are quite a few,” Theodore said carefully. “But they’re not allowed to be accessed.”

“You mean by commoners?”

He dipped his chin and looked at me with a sheepish eye. “No, not even I am allowed to take them from the lower study.”

A harsh wind cut through the vineyard, prickling my skin. I could feel his attention linger on me. “Who dares to tell you no?” I gave him a sardonic smirk. “I’d like a lesson from them on how it’s done.”

His chuckle was dark as the twilight shadows. “There’s a very tightly wound hermitess down there that does not let me—or anyone—enter.”

“Well, Your Majesty”—I straightened in my saddle—“your hermitess has not met the likes of me. I’m rather an expert at making people do what they don’t want to, aren’t I?”

He gave me a smoldering look, the barest edge of a smile on his lips. The warmth of his quiet laugh cut through the night’s chill. “May the Great Gods go with you. The hermitess carries a very knobby stick that she would swing at me when I was little and tried to sneak in.”

I laughed, but soon that awful, strained quiet that we had begun our journey in settled back around us. He picked up our pace, riding at a gallop through endless vineyards. It must have been midnight when my eyes were finally growing droopy. A thundering sound rocked the air, jolting me fully awake. Horse hooves.

Theodore pulled on his reins. “Whoa.”

I slowed my mare too. “Is that coming from up ahead or behind?”

Before he could answer, a horn sliced through the night.

“Soldiers.” Theodore called out into the darkness. “Slow up ahead! This is your king. Slow your mounts!”

The retinue came into view and slowed into well-ordered rows. Bringing up the rear was a small carriage. “Your Majesty?” called a familiar voice. Lachlan rode toward the head of the group, fully outfitted in his gold armor. Even in the moonlight, I could make out the strain on his face, the worry strung through him. “I thought you’d still be with the Mage Seer. We were coming to find you.”

“What’s happened?” Theodore asked, bracing himself for the reply.

But Lachlan didn’t answer. He looked to me with derision in his gaze instead. “You’re looking surprisingly well for being in the middle of a severing ritual.”

“I…” I bristled in my saddle. “We didn’t—”

Theodore cut me off. “I asked you what happened, Commander.”

“Ammos was sacked,” Lachlan said, grimly. “So was Notos on the west shore. Nemea’s doubled the size of his fleet with mercenary ships. More than we anticipated. He shouldn’t have the money for it.” Lachlan gave me another withering glare. “The empress isn’t pleased. She’s sent a missive for her own fleet to come and aid you. She’s demanding you rally Sirens and force them to use their power to bolster the navy. Sink the fleet so that her daughter becoming queen need not be delayed. Tell me you performed the severance, and that Imogen is just uncommonly resilient.”

Theodore was stoic as ever, sitting tall and unmoving. But I could sense that what Lachlan had just shared ripped at him.

“Your Majesty?” Lachlan’s gaze darted between the two of us.

“We didn’t do it,” I said. “Not yet. We… There was—a complication.”

“A complication?” Lachlan gave an angry laugh. “What was it? Like a ‘you lost the draught’ type of complication? A ‘didn’t quite feel like going through the trouble’ type of complication?”

“Enough,” Theodore snapped. “You won’t speak to her that way.” He dismounted and made for the carriage at the back of the line. Called out to the riders in a barking command, “Back to the palace.” He glared at me, then Lachlan. “With me. We need to talk.”

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The carriage was small and tight, jostling Theodore and me into each other’s sides as it raced down the North Road, back toward Genevreer Palace.

Across from us, livid on the narrow bench, sat Lachlan. His dark brows were lowered, menacing eyes on Theodore. “What happened to you, Theo?” The question was withering, accusatory.

Theodore stiffened. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you have been so tightly fucking wound for years. You’ve been perfect. Always in line—to the point that I started to wonder if there was something wrong with you.” Lachlan raked his fingers through his short hair. “And now—since her—you can’t make a sound choice to save your life. What complication could possibly have prevented you from unbinding the second you got that draught?”

Defensiveness, shockingly, rose up in me like hackles. I spoke before Theodore could. “King Nemea is my father,” I said, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. “I share a blood bond with Eusia—with all the nekgya. If I want true safety for myself and Sirenkind, I need to find and kill Eusia. Theodore wanted to remain bound because doing so would offer me additional safety from the danger I’ll face.”

Lachlan’s face creased with confusion. He looked between us. “That’s not a Godsdamned complication. That’s Imogen’s responsibility. And it should have no bearing on your own, Theo.”

Theodore bristled. “The Sirens are my citizens. They have been my people since Queen Ligea disappeared. Imogen’s success in this falls under my responsibility as king.”

Lachlan’s gaze cut between the two of us once more and a slow realization slackened his face. “Oh shit. Shit.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re kidding me.”

“What is it?” I glanced to Theodore, then back to Lachlan.

“Of all the beautiful women I’ve thrown at you over the years.” Lachlan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of all the very eligible, very safe, very unproblematic women you’ve had your hands on, this is the one you fall in love with!”

Theodore went so still beside me that time seemed to halt.

The silence that followed let me hear how my heart raged. It stretched out, so long that it was an answer in itself. A mingling of dread and elation filled me.

“Are you going to deny it?” Lachlan asked, shaking his head. “Shouldn’t be surprised. This is what happens when you try to be impossibly good. You fall apart for the first naked woman who forces her way into your bed.”

Theodore launched himself across the small distance between them. One hand gripped Lachlan’s throat, and the other hauled back, ready to land a blow.

I screamed, pulling at Theodore’s shoulder. The carriage was too small. It filled with groans and flailing arms. Theodore managed to reach around me, clipping Lachlan’s nose with his fist. I wedged myself between the two men, pushing my back into Theodore’s chest and my palms into Lachlan’s breastplate.

“Stop it. What the hell is wrong with you?” I bellowed at Lachlan. A clot of red dribbled from his nostril. Both men gasped for control on opposite benches, but I still knelt on the carriage floor between them, not trusting them in the least.

“I need him with his head on straight.” Lachlan swiped at his nose with the back of his hand, then sneered at the smear of blood.

“I know,” I snapped. “I know you do.” I shoved harder against Lachlan’s breastplate. His lips flattened into a severe line. “But that’s not how you get it, you idiot. He should have hit you harder.”

The carriage suddenly lurched, throwing me forward, then backward. As I fell back, my head rammed into Theodore’s chin. He gave a pained hiss as he wrapped an arm around my waist to steady me. There was a loud clatter outside. Horses whickered; soldiers shouted to one another.

Both Lachlan and Theodore tensed. Lachlan went for his sword that lay on the bench beside him. Theodore pulled the spare from the wall above his seat.

“What is it?” I whispered.

The carriage had slowed and now it sat at a complete stop.