Nova had a sudden urge to ask questions, every question—about how Jinx had met Aurora, and where she was from, and how she had become a hunter, and what her manifestation had been like. But at that moment the lock of the door slid back with a loud thunk. The door swung open fast enough that she only had time to turn her head before her familiar captor entered the space, taking the peaceful balance that Jinx carried with her naturally, and smashing it into a thousand irretrievable pieces.

Cassius had caught the two women off guard, which was good, for he was a bit off-kilter himself. He studied the one called Novaya—the one he had held in a cell for months, whom he had questioned multiple times, who had always insisted upon her innocence, and yet today was nearly rescued in a highly coordinated attack that had left the palace vulnerable, and his brother missing, along with the Pavan queen.

And then there was the letter, if it was real. He slipped a hand into his coat pocket, feeling the rasp of the parchment against his fingers. His gut told him it was her writing. He had spent enough time in her rooms now that he had seen notes scribbled into the margins of her books, or forgotten slips of paper tucked between pages. He had sat at his desk and studied her scrawl, wondered at the woman behind it, and the strange events of fate that had brought him to her and then taken her away.

Cassius should not have cared, that was the troubling part of it all. Things had arguably worked out very well for him. His family had gotten the kingdom they had come for without even having to go through with the charade of marriage. So why could he not have been happy and embraced his new role fully? Why had he obsessed so completely over her disappearance? And why did the possibility of her being in the city now make him want to abandon everything and search door-to-door until he set eyes on her and confirmed the truth for himself?

He had to know. He had put off this questioning as long as possible. He’d seen his mother settled, sent out scouting parties to search the city for his brother, assigned others to see to the city’s most immediate issues from the storm. He had done all the things his father should do but would ignore in favor of another drink, another distraction, another day of running with death nipping at his heels. But now he was done waiting. He needed answers. So he entered the room where the two women were being held, and this time he hesitated before closing the door. He looked to one of the soldiers outside and said, “It is cold in here. Fetch some blankets. And ask a maid to bring up something to eat and drink for our guests.”