Every bit of skin was covered in tiny golden flecks in the shape of leaves, making her cheeks shimmer as though dusted with the stars themselves.

But even all those eccentricities couldn’t hold a candle to her eyes, which captured every bit of the king’s attention. They were completely colorless, as though made from glass. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “Who are you? Why did you allow her into the palace?” The latter question was for the statue guards, none of whom seemed to hear him, as frozen in place as trees that had taken root not in dirt but in cracks between the stones.

The woman—or whatever she was—laughed, the sound like crystal shards tinkling against one another. “I didn’t exactly give them much of a choice in the matter.”

“You’re a mage.”

“Of sorts, but not like all the ignorant imposters currently running amok throughout your kingdom.”

“I don’t care if you’re the godsdamn Queen of Sonaria, get out of my—”

“Sonaria doesn’t have a queen,” the woman interrupted.

“Get out of my way. I must find my wife and son.”

“They’re already gone.”

“Then I’ll tear the palace to pieces until I find them.”

“You’re not hearing me. They’ve left the palace. For good, I’m afraid. You won’t catch them now. Your wife is a meticulous planner, and she orchestrated her escape well.”

“How do you—”

“Know this? I know many things. My name is Cintra con Narcissi, and I’m here to save your son’s life.” She gestured to the swaddle resting in the crook of his elbow.

Such insolence without so much as a hint of a ‘Your Majesty’ to soften her words would typically fray his already tattered nerves, but now wasn’t the time for insisting on a modicum of the respect due to a man of his royal station. “Then you’ve wasted your time,” he said instead. “Tomas is already dead.”

“Give him to me. Quickly. There is not much time left to undo what has been done.”

“No.”

“Suit yourself, though I’m not sure your rivals will sit idly by while you rest on an empty throne with no heir to warm your seat after you’re gone.”