“I am always lonely,” said Junn. “My heart, if I have one, is a house of empty rooms and empty halls. My thoughts and footsteps echo. Sometimes I feel like a guest in the house of myself. But sometimes, someone’s footsteps cross my floor, and that is enough. These days, I luxuriate in my loneliness. I walk through my empty halls naked and singing.” Her smile hadn’t slipped. “What I really wanted was a reason to stay,” she said. “And I got what I wanted.”

Crier frowned. “Stay . . . in the palace?”

“Hm. Anywhere,” said Junn. “Now, what is it that you want, Crier? You’ve escaped your gilded cage. The world is your oyster. Your pearl. What next?”

What next?

How was she supposed to answer that when she had no idea what tomorrow would bring? She’d escaped her cage once, but here she was, flying right back into it. Right back to Sovereign Hesod.

“I don’t know,” she said at last. To Queen Junn, to the moon, to the halls of her heart. “I don’t know.”

It had only been a few weeks since Crier had run away from home, and the part of her that thought she would never return had been expecting it to look completely different. To grow and change along with her. She was half right. When their party crested a hill, and Crier saw the whole of the sovereign’s land spread out before her—the palace itself, the pearl on the black cliffs of the Steorran Sea, those four white marble spokes glittering in the sun; the servants’ quarters, the stables and outbuildings, the orchards, the flower gardens, the yellow fields, and beyond all of it the sea—it was like looking at her own face in a mirror and not recognizing it. Crier had grown up in this place. It was the first home she had ever known, and she had known every inch of those hallways, every tapestry and sculpture, every flower in the garden, every book in the library. But it was a prison, too. Her gilded cage. How was it possible for something to be both? Even now, it felt like both.

Of course, it wasn’t exactly the same palace she’d left. The main courtyard and half the fields were dotted with white tents: the queen’s royal guard and allies. Thin pillars of smoke rose up from dozens of campfires. Crier could see the soldiers swarming like beetles all over the grounds—they numbered about a thousand, according to Junn.

They reached the courtyard within the hour, and riding through the makeshift army camp was even stranger than seeing it from afar. There was a big tent set up right outside the palace doors, and Crier could see physicians and Midwives scurrying around inside. The air was thick with the smells of smoke and charcoal and cooking meat, and the sound of a thousand soldiers shouting and talking. Everywhere, people were preparing for battle.

Kinok was coming. He’d already destroyed the Heart, positioning himself as the only chance of survival. The only one who could find Tourmaline. His next move, Crier knew, would be to take the throne of Rabu. Establish himself as king. And tell the whole world to kneel.