She met his eyes with a surprising frankness. Utterly unafraid of or impressed by him. “I am certain you will do so already, but I’d advise you to proceed with caution, Prince.”

“I know. Thanks.” He rubbed the back of his neck, bracing himself. “Do you think your queen might have an answer?”

The medwitch’s head angled again, all that glorious hair spilling over her shoulder. “My … Oh.” He could have sworn sorrow clouded her eyes. “You mean the new queen.”

“Hypaxia.” Her name shimmered on his tongue. “I’m sorry about the loss of your old queen.”

“So am I,” the witch said. For a moment, her shoulders seemed to curve inward, her head bowing under a phantom weight. Hecuba had been beloved by her people—her loss would linger. The witch blew out a breath through her nose and straightened again, as if shaking off the mantle of sorrow. “Hypaxia has been in mourning for her mother. She will not receive visitors until she makes her appearance at the Summit.” She smiled slightly. “Perhaps you can ask her yourself then.”

Ruhn winced. On the one hand, at least he didn’t have to go see the woman his father wanted him to marry. “Unfortunately, this case is pressing enough that it can’t wait until the Summit.”

“I will pray to Cthona that you find your answers elsewhere, then.”

“Hopefully she’ll listen.” He took a few steps toward the door.

“I hope to see you again, Prince,” the medwitch said, returning to her lunch.

The words weren’t a come-on, some not-so-subtle invitation. But even later, as he sat in the Fae Archives researching medical breakthroughs, he still pondered the tone and promise of her farewell.

And realized he’d never gotten her name.

Chapter Forty

40

It took Viktoria two days to find anything unusual on the city cameras and the power grid. But when she did, she didn’t call Hunt. No, she sent a messenger.

“Vik told me to get your ass to her office—the one at the lab,” Isaiah said by way of greeting as he landed on the roof of the gallery.

Leaning against the doorway that led downstairs, Hunt sized up his commander. Isaiah’s usual glow had dimmed, and shadows lay beneath his eyes. “It’s that bad with Sandriel there?”

Isaiah folded in his wings. Tightly. “Micah’s keeping her in check, but I was up all night dealing with petrified people.”

“Soldiers?”

“Soldiers, staff, employees, nearby residents … She’s rattled them.” Isaiah shook his head. “She’s keeping the timing of Pollux’s arrival quiet, too, to put us all on edge. She knows what kind of fear he drags up.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and that piece of shit will stay in Pangera.”

“We’re never that lucky, are we?”