“I saw it last night. The entire noble court saw it.” She pauses, dropping the letter and instead picking up a brush. She patiently combs through her own dark hair, the strands shining like polished onyx. “I’ll give you a word of warning—he’s not who you think he is.”

The warm bathwater on my skin burns like acid. What does she mean? He’s Lucien. He’s Lucien d’Malvane, Prince of Cavanos and the Higher Reach. I dunk my head under the water, scrubbing my hair free of soap. I come up wiping water from my eyes.

“Be wary, Zera. My brother loves me,” Varia says. “And he desires you. But there is something he values more than either of us. And that is his people.”

The crown princess lets that linger, like a cut in the fabric of reality. Of course he values his people more than anything else. I’ve seen that countless times. He worked himself to exhaustion during the witchfire. I stand, gesturing for a maid to give me a towel. She obliges, and slowly I dry off and pull on the soft muslin dress, much softer than the world waiting outside.

“How much does he know?” I ask.

“Not enough,” Varia says. “And yet more than enough.”

“He’s going to get in the way, isn’t he?” I ask, the thought of Lucien standing between my heart and me tearing me apart at the edges.

“Not if we move quickly. Yorl has informed me there will be no visits today,” Varia answers. “But tomorrow, I expect your best effort. Especially considering Lucien is aware of such efforts now.”

The meaning isn’t lost on me. She’s gone from confident he wouldn’t be able to do anything about her getting the Bone Tree to wary. Something has changed, and not in our favor. Did it have to do with the valkerax’s escape maybe? Or is she finally realizing just how determined her brother has become in her years away from the court?

“You,” I start, then lose my courage. But it comes back around. “You’re going to die, aren’t you?”

Varia’s eyes flash in my direction, and I press on.

“The Bone Tree. It’s going to feed on your magic and kill you.”

Varia’s still, and then she throws her hair over her shoulder. “Yes. But I told you that at the very beginning.”

She did. The passage she recited from one of her favorite books, The Midnight Gifter. My flesh will feed its furnace. I didn’t know just how true to life those words were. But now I do, with the full, cold impact.