My chin dropped. I was not going to let him see my lip quiver. Wouldn’t be right, and he wouldn’t trust me to stand as his blade ever again if I was some weepy sod.

“I swear it,” I muttered.

“Good.” The prince stood again. “Then let’s take your little melder before we both lose our damn heads.”

I stared at the ceiling. The dreams wouldn’t stop. The closer I stepped into Lyra Bien, the more she haunted my nights.

I didn’t even know if they were real, but something felt real about each dream.

It would be better for us both if I walked away, ignored her as before. I owed a debt that could not be paid, but like in the dream, one glance at her and the roar of something fierce, something dangerous awakened inside me.

Now I’d had a taste and unlocked a deeper need to have more. No doubt, if I gave in, Lyra Bien would consume me—heart and soul.

“Roark.”

One hand shot to the pommel of my sword where it leaned against my bed, only easing back when Emi emerged from the shadowed corner of my doorway. She was in a nightdress, hair free over her shoulders, looking well-bedded and flushed.

Still able to stand? It’s been some time, cousin.

She shot me a glare. “I heard what happened.”

I looked away. Tomas deserved everything he was dealt.

“I’ve no doubt he did,” Emi agreed. “Yrsa is speaking for Lyra. She’s made a convincing argument about Tomas’s character, but her words are the only thing keeping Hundur tame for now. The two kings have argued the whole of the evening, and I fear Damir may concede to some punishment to keep the peace.”

I made a note to thank the princess the next time we met, then made another vow that if the Myrdan king claimed his punishment from Lyra, he would be found without a head come dawn.

“Hundur is furious and demanding Lyra be turned over to Myrda,” Emi said.

Heat gathered under my collar. He touches her and Myrda will be without a king.

“I was worried you would say that.” Emi’s shoulders slouched. She sat on the corner of my bed. “Something has changed, Roark. Tell me.”

My jaw tightened. I turned away and unsheathed my blade, working on the buckle of my belt. When I tossed the weapon aside, I faced my cousin. Nothing has changed.

Emi scoffed. “Really? Because I thought your duty regarding the melder looked vastly different than what it seems like right now. Not that I’m complaining.”

My cousin was no fool, and I was a piss-poor liar when it came to Emi Nightlark. I looked down at my palms and gestured slowly. I am recalling more.

Her eyes widened. “Really? Do we know the truth?”