“Wounded, yes, but I did not kill him,” Emrys replied. “Nor would I have. I knew Phelan was important to his mother as well as the master of coin. To strike him would be to strike them both, which was quite effective in getting the court to return home, because here you all are.”

I was quiet again, pensive.

“Clem,” he said. “Clem, do you have no compassion for me? I have carried the curse that the entire court deserved to bear, living alone in this place with nightmares, unable to die, unable to leave. I carried it so the others could lead normal lives despite our collective treachery, and so they did for an entire century. Do you fault me for growing lonely here? For wanting to see the end?”

“I don’t begrudge your loneliness, uncle,” I said. “But nor do I have compassion for you.”

I began to walk around the bloodstain, my posture stiff, as if I expected him to interfere with my departure. He didn’t move, not until I was almost to the door, and he turned on his heel.

“Wait, Clem. There is one more thing I would ask you.”

I paused.

“I understand that you are close to Lady Raven,” Emrys began in a careful tone. “Does the heiress plan to harm your father?”

“If she did, I think he would have appeared in her dream last night,” I said.

“As you appeared?”

I nodded. “She dislikes him, but she has set her attention on others in this fortress. Besides, I don’t think you truly care about what happens to my father.”

Emrys went rigid. “What makes you say that?”

“Have you even spoken to him since he returned?” I asked. “Do you still judge him, resent him for being the one who escaped your fate? So close, you and he once were. So close that Imonie couldn’t even tell the two of you apart when you were boys. She said you would take each other’s punishments. That is how deep Ambrose’s love for you was. And I don’t presume to know what it’s like to share a face with another. But whatever it is you’re holding against my father . . . you should see it settled, before night falls. Because I think he misses you, more than he will ever confess. That’s why he became the warden of Hereswith—to be close to the mountain. To be close to you.”

I had shocked my uncle into silence. But he laid his hand over his heart and said, “As you say, then.” He granted me another bow, but I was gone before he could lift his head.

I returned to my bedroom and saw another note had been slipped beneath my door.

The paper unfolded like wings; I stared at the familiar slant of Imonie’s handwriting until the words seemed to melt away.

Do not trust your eyes alone.

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