“Before who gets here?” I whisper, my heart breaking as I watch her mind crumble under whatever evil spell has been cast upon her.

“Idalia, who’s coming?”

She rolls her neck, a guttural noise erupts from deep within her, and she hangs her head.

“I couldn’t kill him. I couldn’t…” she mutters.

Distorted voices echo a short distance away. I whip around to find their source and hear more voices, clearer now, and the clomp of hooves against dirt.

“Everyone has it wrong. It’s Baellileans who are made of ice,” she says, choking on her spit.

Glimpses of my Kingdom’s flag ripple between the trees; armor gleams in the morning light. I stand as Baellilean troops break through the tree line. Horrick leads the way on a brown stallion. Following him are at least two dozen men and a cart pulled by a small mare.

“Prince Braizen,” he calls, his chest puffed to make him appear more significant. As always, his attempt fails.

“Horrick!” I gasp. “What are you doing here?”

He smiles tightly and grips his reins. “I think that should be obvious. We’ve come to collect the girl.”

“What?”

The skinny man lets out a weasel-like laugh and rests his hands on the pommel of his saddle. “Gods, if only you could grasp reality as quickly as you can catch birds!”

The men behind him snicker; Idalia continues to mumble under her breath.

“You are the future King of Baelliles, the sole heir to the throne!” Horrick continues. “The real question is, why are you here? After years of disappointing your father, have you come to capture the Verdanian yourself? Do you truly think this will make up for all your failures? King Vaskis would be mortified to find you out here, this close to the one who can bring down our entire Kingdom! Now, step aside and let us do what we came to do.”

He angles his head towards two of the guards, who move forward.

I raise my clenched fists, and Horrick laughs again.

“Oh, please! Do you mean to punch our entire force away? Don’t be a fool, Braizen. Move. Our business is no longer with you.”

“No,” I grind out. “I won’t let you touch her.”

“Not this again! Do you not remember what happened last time? It is the entire reason you cannot touch her now! Move, by order of your father, King Vaskis!”

Something rolls down my shoulders, veining through my limbs like fire catching a fuse. Lachlan’s confusion over the marriage proposal rushes through my mind, and my stomach drops.

“Horrick,” I say slowly, my eyes trained on the two guards. “Did my father write the letter?”

“Letter? What letter?” The man snorts.

“The one that brought her here, to The Wood.” The odd sensation in my arms surges.