The heiress, I thought, studying the countess. And then I dwelled on her companions—the wraiths who I had held as cards in my hands. Her companions, who she had commemorated by painting them, over and over, lending her magic and her sorrow to a card game. They had been mere illustrations to me in those moments when I had been playing a game, and I had never dared to believe that I would one day sit at a table with them, beholding their accursed state of being. I had never contemplated that I was the daughter of one of them.

The advisor, I thought, staring at my father. He was the mountain advisor.

And Imonie? I wasn’t sure what her title was among the wraiths, but all my life, I’d believed what she had told me—that her ancestry was rooted in the mountains, but she had been born in Bardyllis. Never had I imagined she had been part of the court that had sundered Seren. That she had been there when it fell apart.

My childhood, my entire life, had been built upon lies.

“Welcome, old friends,” the countess said. “It has taken me years to find some of you, thanks to Brin of Stonefall’s magic of disguises. But here we are, reunited after so much time apart.”

“What do you want with us, Lady Raven?” the duke asked, yanking the dagger from his chest. “I was quite happy in Bardyllis. So were you.”

“Happiness never lasts for our kind,” the countess said before glancing at my father. “Ambrose’s twin brother, Emrys, has withstood the curse for a hundred years on the mountain. We left him behind a century ago, the lost one of our alliance. He has carried the curse and walked the fortress in the clouds as penance for slaying my brother, the Duke of Seren, but now Emrys has found his way out.

“He walks dreams on the new moon, taunting us to come home. Twice he has wounded my son, and by the vengeance of his blade, I no longer had a choice but to gather you all to answer his challenge.” She held up her chalice of wine, as if preparing for a toast. “We scattered like chaff when the curse began. We went our own ways and sought to live our own quiet lives. I lost track of you, as you did with me. But the time has come, my old friends. It is time we returned home. It is time we remembered ourselves and dreamt again. That we no longer wake from cold, dreamless slumber. That we live and feel as mortals do. That we die when the time comes. For we have dwelled hidden and forgotten in this province for far too long.”