My hands tremble as I unfold the paper, and my eyes lock on the image in front of me. Just as I expected, it’s one of Kyor’s pictures. The perfectly drawn proportions, the detail in the eyes … I know his style perfectly, just as I know the bed the female figure lies upon. It is the one in the kitchen of the barracks. The place he told me he had used as a sanctuary long before the Retterheld even began. I thought I was the first he’d welcomed into his inner sanctum, but evidently not. For while I know both the style and the location of the image, what I do not know is the woman who is the subject of his art. It’s certainly not me, and that’s a punch to the gut in and of itself.

As I study the unknown woman, her familiarity niggles at me.

She lies there, arms outstretched, smiling gracefully as the blanket discreetly covers the top of her chest. Her hair falls in lazy curls, almost identical to the ones the maid has teased mine into. The look of pure bliss on her face, and those eyes … I lift my gaze back to the mirror, to the reflection of the maid. A gasp sounds in my throat.

She has dropped her hat, letting the full length of her hair fall down past her shoulders. It is not dark like that of the woman in the picture. Nor like her sister’s was when she was still alive. It is the same tone as mine. White-blonde and stripped of colour, just like she was stripped of her magic.

‘Thea.’ I choke on the name of Estel’s sister as tears burn my eyes. Thea, who was stripped of magic and cast out, all for the perfidy of having the gall to fall pregnant with Kyor’s child.

As I gape at the subject of Kyor’s picture, now here in my very presence, her lips twist into a sneer. ‘He told me he loved me, too. Whatever he has told you, whatever he has made you believe, he will never choose you. He is just a spoiled rich boy, forever tethered to his narcissistic brute of a father. And you will never come before his king and crown. It’s better you learn that lesson now than when it’s too late.’

My chest is so tight I can barely draw breath. This can’t be real. Can it?

I stare at the picture, yet it blurs as tears begin to fall. He drew her like he drew me. Has lain with her in the bed I considered my sanctuary.

As I struggle to ease the trembling in my lungs, Thea pulls the paper from my loose hand. ‘I know I may seem cruel now,’ she says, ‘but I’m doing you a favour, Rose Kultavaris. You have your powers back. Don’t lose them again for him.’

My throat is closed with rising tears, and before I can say a word, she turns and walks out, leaving me with hair styled perfectly like hers.

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Chapter 74

An untethered feeling hangs heavy in the air around me. What the fuck just happened? As a surge of panic tries to rise up in me, I force it down. Now is my moment, my day, and I will not let anyone ruin it for me. What I need to do is think logically. What was Thea trying to achieve?

As much as I want to believe she was lying to me, hoping to turn me against Kyor, what would be the point? With the whiteness of her hair and the familiarity in her features, there is no denying she is Estel’s sister. And according to her, Kyor loved her, or at least made her believe that he did, and then he left her to be stripped. So what of their child? Benny had said that it had perished, but Kyor had said he was unsure if the pair had even slept together. But the evidence of their intimacy was there in the black-and-white drawing.

Is there a blue-eyed heir to the throne toddling around somewhere in one of the lower rings?

All my insecurities return, punching into me as though they never left. I cover my mouth, trying to stop myself from heaving. Was this all just a game to him? Breaking hearts, ruining lives, just because he could? No. I shake my head.

No, I know Kyor. He’s not like that.

Yet, I still feel sick. My head is in my hands when there’s a sharp knock at the door.

‘My lady, it is time we accompanied you to the ball.’

It’s the gruff maid’s voice again. Not Thea’s, of that much I’m certain.

I stand, wiping my eyes and looking at my hair in the mirror. Fucking Thea did my hair to match hers. To match the way she said Kyor liked it.

I can’t wear it like this. I reach up to braid it, but I’m interrupted before I can even begin. ‘My lady?’ The voice comes again, this time with an edge of impatience.

‘I’ll just be a minute,’ I call back, letting my hands drop from my hair.

I draw in a long breath. I wash my face, grab a hairbrush and rake it through my hair, the perfect curls gone, forced into loose waves instead. I bend my lips into something reminiscent of a smile. That will have to do.

This is about the gifted. Me, Godsdamn it all. This is my ball and I will not let my fears and insecurities ruin the victory of the moment. With a sharp inhale I push Thea’s poisonous words down into the deepest recesses of my soul. They can haunt me there another day, but not now.

Besides, everything I did was for Kay, for her future. Whatever is between Kyor and me, it has no bearing on this moment. Kay and I are free. And that is everything.

I wonder just who I’m trying to convince.

With another breath in, I tilt my chin up and open the door to the gruff-sounding maid. I have no idea how long I have kept her waiting, but rather than showing any annoyance, she offers a warm smile.

‘You look beautiful, Lady Rose,’ she says. ‘Really beautiful. I’ll escort you to the ballroom.’

‘Thank you. It’s fine though. I don’t need a chaperone.’

‘I’ll just lead you to it,’ she assures me. ‘Don’t worry. No one expects a maid to be on your arm today.’ Another smile.

I’ve never been in the Spire, so I accept her assistance, though in the end it’s a fairly straightforward walk down the steep steps, which bring me out at the bottom of the palace. Huddled by the doorway is a cluster of priestesses. I scan their faces, but none are Dinah.

‘Excuse me,’ I ask one. ‘Can you tell me if Dinah is okay? I saw her … I saw her at the end.’

The priestesses exchange a series of tight-lipped looks, and fear rolls through me. Before I can speak again, one bestoned priestess takes pity on me.

‘To be an avatar of the Gods takes much energy. Dinah will be resting for a day or two yet but is unharmed from the experience.’

‘Thank you,’ I say gratefully. There. Yet another thing to be grateful for. Dinah is well. Kay is safe. I have my magic. I am determined to count my blessings, even if I’m now unsure whether Kyor is among them.

While the escort from this point is unnecessary the maid leads me towards the ballroom, the two of us now flanked by the procession of priestesses. We approach a series of knights and their dire wolves lining the path, and unease prickles down my neck. Is it an honour guard or increased security following the previous rebel incidents?

As I walk, the knights genuflect to me as though I’m someone important. My mouth dries while my heart is suddenly racing again.

My moment of recognition – reclamation – is finally here.

‘The gifted. Lady Rose Kultavaris,’ one of the priestesses confirms imperiously to the knight on the door. As he goes to open the door and announce me, the maid takes my hand and curtsies deeply. ‘One of us,’ she whispers to me, with such pride and awe that heat prickles my eyes. She gives my hand one final squeeze and releases it before rising to her feet and striding away.

One of us. It is the reminder I need. I push aside Thea’s bullshit. This is my moment and I am going to fucking own it.

I can already hear the music, the chatter, and the laughter. Do they know it’s me who’s about to be announced? Have the others returned? Where is Benny? Jonas?

‘The gifted,’ the knight announces. The ballroom falls utterly silent. ‘Lady Rose Kultavaris.’