It takes my brain three frozen seconds to fall into place and begin working again. It hasn’t been days. I’ve healed immediately. If I was still Nightsinger’s Heartless, it would’ve taken much longer.

“No,” I blurt.

“Yes,” Varia says patiently.

“You can’t do that,” I snarl. “The Crimson Lady—that tower out there would’ve detected any magic spell you tried to do—”

“I have someone taking care of that for me,” she chimes, kicking through the shards of the doll idly. “It’s incredible, really, who your father the king will approve for a position in that red eyesore once you rise from the dead and plead with him.”

She has someone in the magic-detecting Crimson Lady—the polymath-controlled tower that’s kept Vetris safe from all magic and witches since it was built. I’m not entirely sure how it works, but it senses magic, and the guards perform arrests depending on the information it gives via the watertell system. The elaborate array of water-fueled pipes ferries messages to and from every corner of the city in a blink—meaning the guards can move on the information even faster. If Varia has someone in the tower covering up the information for her…

“No one knows,” I hiss, “that you’re a witch?”

Varia’s smile is self-satisfied. “No one but you and Lucien. I’m sure Lucien will tell his bodyguard eventually—what’s his name? Mallory?”

“Malachite,” I snap.

“Oh yes.” She shrugs. “And I’ll tell Fione when the time comes. But why are we talking about petty interpersonal affairs when we have so much to do? There’s a war brewing on the horizon, and you’re going to help me stop it. This time, without some risky gamble involving my brother’s heart. Something more secure, I think, and without so many High Witches hovering about it.”

She sweeps over and unlocks the shackles on my arms and legs. I’m so busy staggering to my weary feet, I barely catch the cotton tunic and breeches she throws at me until they’re in my face. “Wear these. We can’t have you strutting about in bloodstained things and startling my people, now can we?”

I stand there, paralyzed by fear, my eyes roaming over the stitches of the clean outfit, the holes of the bloodstained dress I’m wearing, and my skin through them. I’m not Nightsinger’s Heartless anymore. My reins have been forcefully taken by Varia. It was easier to resign myself to death than to consider living with my mistakes. My betrayal. But now? Now I’ll have to keep going. Now I’ll have to face the people I’ve hurt.

And that’s far more terrifying than dying.

“What are you waiting for?” Varia’s voice cuts through my shellshock. “Put it on. We have places to be. Don’t make me command you this early.”

Commanding.