“It’s my throne room, technically,” Soren said, but without much malice. “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Janneke?” he asked me. “Say the word, and I will gladly kick him across the Permafrost.”

I didn’t think I’d ever have a better mental picture in my life, but shook my head. “I’m sure.”

“All right,” Soren said. “You know I trust your judgment. We can catch up later about this morning, I think.”

My cheeks felt hot, and I hoped I wasn’t blushing as my mind flashed to some of the things that’d gone on before we’d had to officially start the day. “Of course.”

I must’ve been flushed because a wicked smile curled on Soren’s lips at the sight of me, and I continued to feel hot as he and Satu left the room.

Disgusting. Now that’s going to be in my head all day, Lydian commented.

“Considering you’re in my head all day, you can deal.”

The tapping of claws against marble made me turn. Donnar was still there and had seen me basically speak to myself. Shit. The empty throne room suddenly seemed cavernously big and too open, too vulnerable. I fought the urge to make sure my back was pressed to a wall.

Donnar, for his part, didn’t do much to help. One taloned foot clacked on the marble floor as he swished his tail back and forth. The movement reminded me of a cat right before it was about to pounce. He looked over the now-empty hall again before turning back to me, his pitch-black eyes staring a hole through my body.

“How long has he been with you?” Donnar asked.

“Soren and I ha—”

“No, no,” Donnar said, shaking his head. “The other one. In your head. How long has he been there?”

“Lydian?” My voice broke as I said the name. Was it so obvious that something was wrong with me? “I’m not mad, then,” I said, realization dawning on me. If Donnar somehow knew …

“No, you’re not,” Donnar said. “Soren never completely burned Lydian’s body, right? Didn’t give it burial rites?”

“No. He kept his heart. It’s … somewhere around here.” I tried to make myself forget about the still-beating heart locked away in one of the various rooms of the palace. Only those with a fully burned body and burial rites could truly pass on to the next life. Otherwise, they became stuck in a hellish afterlife where they were trapped in the void, never seen or heard from again. Or so I thought, until Lydian barged into my head.

Regardless, when it came to the matter of Lydian’s still-beating heart, I had enough haunting my brain without that image pushing through.

“He can’t truly leave this world until it’s burned. His specter has latched on to you,” Donnar said. “But I’m sure you know this by now.”