Rohan shook his head. “I’m from the other line of black-eyed rulers. The Suresh family. We spent more time in the land beyond the crater lake, where Ashguard ruled. Much of that land is destroyed now.”

Thisbe sank back, still feeling dazed. “How did she take it?”

“Who? What?”

“Maiven. When you told her my mother is dead.”

Rohan was quiet for a long moment. “She was sad.”

A lump rose in Thisbe’s throat, and she blinked back tears. “What does this mean for me?” Thisbe asked quietly, more to herself than to Rohan. “Who am I?”

Rohan lifted his head. “If we get our world back, I suppose that would make you a princess too, pria.”

Thisbe’s face warmed at the familiar nickname he’d given her, though she had no idea what it meant. “Why do you call me that?”

“Are you upset that I do? I’ll stop if you wish.”

“No, but I just want to know what it means.”

But Rohan closed his eyes, a small smile on his face. “One day I might tell you,” he said. “And hopefully by that point it will be accurate.”

“What will be accurate?” Thisbe demanded. It was the only time Rohan had ever annoyed her, and he wasn’t giving in.

“It’s just an affectionate nickname.” Rohan slid to his side and got into a more comfortable position. “Do you hate it?”

“No. I—I like it. What shall I call you?”

“You may call me whatever you want, and I will answer to it.” Rohan smiled and yawned, then rested his head in the crook of his arm. “I’ll collect ancestor bones as soon as Mangrel lets me out. Then I’ll rush to get them to you in the kitchen. So if you can stall a bit before starting your batch tomorrow, I’ll have them for you fairly early on. I found an ancestor crypt that’s much closer to the kitchen than the one I used to go to.”

“That’s perfect, Rohan,” said Thisbe. “Thank you. We’ll figure out a way to get this done without Dev messing things up. I’ve got ideas.” She checked her pockets for components and shifted a few specific ones to the top so she’d have them handy in the morning if she needed them.

After that Rohan went to sleep, leaving Thisbe to ruminate over his latest revelations. Including the part about the affectionate nickname.

A Lucky Guess

Once Mangrel opened Rohan’s door the next morning, Rohan sped as quickly as he could without being seen to the nearest ancestor crypt for bones. Thisbe went to the kitchen as usual to bottle up the dragon-bone broth that had been simmering overnight. She waited for Rohan before starting the next batch, puttering about the kitchen and throne room, organizing the existing bottles, wasting time.