When William first explained the rule about Scion-Scion relationships, it seemed far from my concerns. An awful sort of “modern fin’amor,” he’d said. Courtly love that can never be consummated. I wasn’t a Scion then, and Nick and I had barely explored who we could be to each other. But now, with Cestra’s words striking at our future before we’ve even had a present, the law feels very real—and very much none of her damn business.

The Order’s obsession with who has kids, with whom, and how, is stomach-churning.

“I see the defiance in you, Bree,” she murmurs, “so consider this a warning, even though you’ll forget it: We know everything about you. Who you love. Who you’d miss….”

A fresh jolt of fear freezes me where I sit. I could never forget a threat like that.

“It’s simple.” She sits back, waving a manicured hand. “When this is over, find someone else to have fun with.”

Erebus clears his throat, a relief. “If I may interrupt?”

He has finally landed on an image from the cave. Me, holding the sword high, palm against the blade, eyes gone red and blue. Then the image moves, and the blue-white mage flame swirls around my wrist and hands.

“You recorded the Rite?” I gasp at the video of myself, feeling exposed.

Cestra hums. “Keep watching.”

In the video I stand, unseeing, lost in the ritual. In one hand, I clutch the Pendragon coin. In the other, I hold Excalibur high. Then, a roaring sound, a flash, and the flames shift from blue to crimson. The Mageguard and Seneschals work together, casting a near-instant shield to protect the Regents. Excalibur drops, and I blink back into the world around me, visibly shaken, eyes wide. Theresa appears and presses a syringe into my arm.

The entire segment had taken maybe thirty seconds. My vision of Arthur and Vera during the Rite felt like long, confusing minutes. Time had slowed and expanded.

“Pause,” Cestra orders. Erebus stops the video, right as I fall to the ground at Max’s feet. “Rewind to before the flash.”

The video stops, and Cestra points to the screen. “Let’s discuss what happened here, when the flames turned red. When you spoke to our emissaries about your abilities, you described yourself as a descendant of…” She taps on the screen of a tablet, scrolling through transcripts, then smiles. “ ‘The Line of Vera.’ Clever adoption of our nomenclature. These abilities, as reported by the other Legendborn, are impressive.” She reads down a list. “Aether generation and manipulation into a wall, breathing red mage flame.” She turns to me. “Is this correct?”

I nod. “That’s what happened in the ogof the night I first pulled Excalibur.”

“And you had not used those abilities before that night?”

“No.” Not exactly.

“Why do you think it happened for the first time, then and there?”

“I don’t know.” Not exactly.