A young boy stared back at me, wide-eyed and shaken. I wondered if he was this woman’s son, maybe her brother. I did not ask, couldn’t, even if I had wanted to, because as soon as I noticed him, he turned and fled in the direction of the village of Volkair.

I followed, head in hand, knowing they would have fire to burn it.

The trek through the surrounding woods was short, though the voices of the dead grew incessant. I did not understand their language, but their words prodded my mind and warped my reality, and in an instant, I was no longer trudging over the rugged floor of the Starless Forest but sinking into a soft bed, my hands and knees framing Yesenia’s body. She stared back at me, eyes hooded, hair spilling over her pillow. I had little hope that we would be together beyond this day, and even as I moved inside her, I could not fully commit to this moment, too desperate and anxious to give her every part of me as she deserved.

Had Isolde recalled our time together in the hours before Yesenia’s death? I would never ask for fear of causing her pain, and in the end, it did not really matter. She did not need these memories to fuel her vengeance.

I stepped out of the tree line, shaking off the memories clinging to me, once more fully present in the reality of my bloodied world.

Goddamn witches. Even from their high graves, they still cast spells.

My teeth were set, my fist wrapped tight in the girl’s hair, her head hanging at my side as I entered Volkair. A main road snaked through a ragged village, flanked by worn homes and shops, their thatched roofs dusted with snow. A few farm animals ran loose, prey for the monsters that lurked in the nearby forest.

I headed toward a fire blazing in the center of the road. My boots became heavy, caked with mud, and as I threw the girl’s head into the fire, I looked to find the townspeople had come out of their homes, gathering beneath what little outdoor shelter they had.

The boy had likely alerted them to my presence—and the death of the nameless girl. I could not be certain what he had said or if they believed him, since it was unusual for monsters to venture out in the daylight.

All monsters except for me.

I turned fully toward them.

None of them bowed; none of them so much as nodded. They stood, solemn and staring.

“Have you forgotten your king?” I called, a warning and a chance to show respect, but the only movement came from one man who stepped apart from those who cowered.

To my disappointment, it was not Gesalac. This man was mortal.