Helena couldn’t disagree. The people of Bela had an unwavering loyalty to their king and queen. She’d seen nothing like it. It was… unnatural. In Madra, the people obeyed her father, but only because they feared what would happen if they dissented.

Was Cole now ruling with the same methods?

Anger seared through her blood when she thought of Cole. Her breath clogged in her throat. “I can’t stay here.” Before Dell could stop her, she ran out into the storm, finally able to breathe once she was outside. She dropped to her knees, her entire body shaking as images returned to her.

Flames. Flames. They seared across Helena’s vision until she saw nothing else.

Death. Her family was dead. Mother. Father. A sob caught in her throat. Estevan.

Arms wound around her, but they couldn’t hold her together.

Her ebony hair stuck to her lips as she sucked in a breath. A single rebellion had torn down everything she’d known in one night. Had it all really been that fragile?

“Helena.” Dell’s words warmed her otherwise icy skin. “Len, it’s okay. You’re here. We’re in Bela. It’s over. We don’t have to fight anymore.”

His words were meant to soothe her, to stop the panic clawing at her chest.

But he was wrong. Nothing was over. Their fight had only just begun.

By the time they returned to the village, the storm had moved on to ravage some other unsuspecting landscape.

Another day. Another disappointment.

Every morning, Helena woke with a small hope in her heart that it would be the day Quinn came for her.

Every night, she went to bed with the weight of defeat crushing her.

Dell walked beside her, a silent companion. They’d struggled to find much to say to each other. Both lost their families, but he didn’t feel it the way she did. His family wasn’t dead. They’d joined Cole in betraying the king, in killing her parents.

The palace of Bela sat on the edge of great white cliffs, across a small stream with a bridge connecting it to the rest of the village. Calling it a palace was generous. In truth, it only comprised four small bedrooms, a common space, kitchen, and a throne room lacking in any kind of grandness.

Just like the rest of Bela, its beauty lay in its simplicity.

Queen Persinette, who insisted on being called Etta, allowed Helena, Dell, Kassander, and Edmund to stay with her and her husband, King Alexandre.

The queen’s horse, Vérité, grazed outside the door as they walked up and Helena headed toward him. Dell walked by her without a word and went inside.

Vérité raised his head, fixing her with a golden-eyed stare that calmed her for the first time all day. The horse had taken an immediate liking to her as soon as she’d met him.