There was a part of me that had expected Killian to justify my father’s decision because he had been just as upset when he’d come to Revekka and discovered that not only did the Blood King still live, I was in love with him. Instead, Killian attempted to protect me.

“I wish I had known,” he added. “I would have liked to spare you this agony.”

There was a lot to say about Killian and the complicated nature of our friendship, but perhaps his greatest attribute was his loyalty—not to crown or title but to me.

“I do not doubt you,” I said. “But it is for that reason I must speak with Gavriel. Your view of Lara was influenced by my father. How are either of us to know the truth?”

“Is that an invitation to join you?” he asked.

I studied him briefly and then said, “Only if you agree to wear my colors.”

His jaw tightened. “Which colors?”

“Red for Revekka, blue for Lara, and gray…for when I conquer Vela and free my mother’s people.”

“You wish to conquer Vela?” he asked, his brows raising.

“I will conquer Vela,” I said. “I will burn it to the ground.”

***

Killian waited outside my door while Violeta helped lace up my boots and clasped a blue, fur-lined cloak around my shoulders. Despite the cold, I did not wish to meet Gavriel within the castle. I did not trust its walls with their hidden passages and concealed doors—anyone might happen upon us; anyone might listen. At least in the garden, it was harder to hide. More than that, however, it was a place from which I drew comfort and strength because it was where I felt closest to my mother, though I was miles away from her gardens in Lara—the ones my father had made certain survived long after her untimely death.

Once more, I found myself at odds with my father, whose love allowed for altars dedicated to my mother’s memory but no action toward what mattered most—the freedom of her people and the life of her daughter.

I led Killian outside through the entrance of the Red Palace, following a path that cut between green hedges and a set of stone steps that descended into the extensive gardens. It had grown colder since I’d seen Adrian off this morning, and I briefly wondered where he was now, if he had any luck locating Gesalac or Julian, and when he would be home.

“Everything is still alive,” Killian said.

It was true—trees were still lush, flowers were still blooming, the hedges were thick—and yet snow whirled in the air, gathering in the crevices of leaves and petals, glittering red beneath the heavy sky.