His avarice was so keen that he had no qualms in killing his own “investment.” The countess is right, I thought. The master of coin didn’t want to see this curse broken. It would ruin the life he had built for himself in Endellion. All the money that dreams brought into his hands.

He let the arrow fly. It sang in the air.

I only had a breath to react. I was the only one who saw him, my eyes trained upon the arrow’s path. All my spells disintegrated in my memory. I couldn’t summon a single shield.

And so I didn’t think. I merely reacted—I let my body respond—and I stepped between Phelan and the master of coin. I took the arrow in my chest, hoping it would find the stone of my heart.

The arrow met me with startling force, blowing me off my feet. I slid along the floor and then came to a stop, gasping. I gazed down at myself like this body belonged to someone else, with this shaft of wood that protruded from my chest and the blood that began to spill like wine. The pain surged when I tried to breathe, when I felt the sting of my wound.

And then the screams rose. My mother’s. Olivette’s. Imonie’s. My father’s.

Phelan gathered me in his arms and together we sat at the footstool of the throne. He was saying my name, over and over—Clem, Clem, Clem—like it was a prayer, like it was an answer. Like he didn’t know what to do without me.

“Phelan,” I managed to say, and I must have sounded like my old self, because it calmed him.

He quieted, caressing my face. Fear burned in his eyes like embers. I tried to breathe and felt the excruciating pinch in my lungs again. A pressure sat on my chest, and pain crackled between my ribs.

My parents hovered, as did Mazarine. They were frantically speaking; their words rushed over me like a river. I wanted to tell them to be quiet, and I closed my eyes. Clenched my teeth. Ordered myself to keep drawing breath even though it was agonizing. And then the silence came, and it was beautiful and cold and calm, like resting underwater. I knew why the words had faded, because a shiver raced across my skin, and I began to change.

I opened my eyes. My guise started to crack along my arms, up my neck, across the planes of my face like ice.

Phelan continued to hold me against his chest. His warmth seeped into me, and I could hear his heart pounding, hummingbird swift in his breast. I watched the wonder in his face. It eclipsed the terror, the agony.

And I breathed and I broke and I transformed in his arms.