My parents visited not long after Imonie departed. Papa brought in a tray of soup, soft bread, and tea, and my mother acted like she was going to feed it to me until I took the spoon.

They perched on either side of my bed, watching me eat.

“I’m going to be fine,” I said, seeking to reassure them. But my hand trembled as I lifted the spoon to my lips. I knew I still had many weeks of recovery before me, and I wondered where Phelan was, but I was too proud to ask after him.

“Where is the countess?” I asked instead.

“She’s recovering,” Papa replied. “She plans to leave the mountains and return to Endellion once she is able to travel. Lennox will accompany her. She’ll be under house arrest for a while, per Phelan’s wishes.”

“And what of the duke? The master of coin?”

My parents were silent, provoking me to look up from my soup.

“He fled the hall after he shot you,” Mama said. “And after Mazarine removed the arrow and tended to you, she hunted him down. He was hiding in one of the lower levels of the fortress.”

“Is he dead?” I asked.

My father nodded.

I didn’t pity the master of coin, not after seeing the extent of his greed. But I would certainly need to speak to Mazarine about how I wanted to dole out punishment in the days to come.

“Mazarine has taken up her service to you with unfaltering allegiance,” my mother stated, as if she had read the trail of my thoughts. “I believe she has appointed herself as your guard.”

“And let her remain that way, Clem,” my father pleaded. “She is stubborn and frightening, but she will protect you.”

“Yes, I think I’ll keep her.” I set down my soup, feeling nauseated. After a week of being asleep, I had filled my stomach too swiftly. I reached for the teapot but my father beat me to it, pouring me a cup. He even knew how much cream and honey to stir into it. And then I realized there was tea, when there had not been before, and I whispered, “Where did the tea come from?”

“Phelan has opened the fortress,” Papa replied. “He has been busy while you slept, traveling and gathering resources and people. This place has returned to life.”

I fell quiet, listening. And while the walls around me were thick . . . I caught a faint trace of laughter. A rumble of furniture being shifted. The clang of something like pots. Doors opening and closing.

My unworthiness rose. My fears and worries nipped at my thoughts and I suddenly felt very small and very unprepared.

I looked at my parents and said, “Will you both help me? Will you both stay with me? I don’t know what I’m doing.”