“Don’t worry.” Ren waved a hand. “I won’t be away long. Just, I want to get things in motion as soon as possible.”

“Of course.” Akeylah forced a smile. “As long as you don’t leave me alone with the court vipers for too long. I can barely stomach Sarella, let alone handle Rueno without you.”

Ren laughed. Then the stable doors creaked open. Somewhere ahead, the first horse in the processional began to move. A few moments later, their wagon lurched. Ren lost her balance, but Zofi grabbed her arm, steadied her. On her other side, Akeylah took her hand. All three girls held on tight.

“When I die,” Zofi added in a low murmur, “don’t you dare show me off like this.”

“You mean you don’t want a gold carriage?” Ren’s jaw dropped in mock surprise.

“What about just one really fine horse that we strap your body to?” Akeylah smirked.

“Mm, maybe.” Zofi turned to peer over her shoulder at the blinding silver sand-stepper, which apparently Vidal, her Talon friend who Ren suspected was more than a friend, retrieved from an outpost along the merchants’ road. “Only if it’s that horse, though.”

“What’s his name?” Ren squinted at the enormous creature.

“Used to be D’Nicolen, but I don’t think it suits him.” Zofi’s mouth twisted in distaste. “Vidal suggested I rename him Horsey.” Her sisters snorted. “I was thinking maybe D’Andros… if that’s not strange.”

“I don’t think it’s strange at all.” Akeylah rested a hand on Zofi’s shoulder.

The carriage burst from the shadows of the stables. The cheers grew deafening. Ren’s heart beat against her rib cage.

Here it comes. Kolonya’s hatred.

The bright sunlight forced Ren to squint. Through it, she saw rows upon rows of people from every walk of life, lining the streets all the way from the Keep to the distant Necropolis.

Some cheered. Some cried.

Eyes fastened on her. But she didn’t see the anger she expected, or hear any chants about Burnt Bay or traitors. Slowly, block by block, as they rolled through the city, her hands still clasped in Akeylah’s and Zofi’s, she began to relax.

Most people didn’t even seem to notice the sisters. They focused on Andros. She heard songs she recognized, snippets of ballads about his exploits in younger years. How much he sacrificed to defend Kolonya against Genal.

How much indeed. If only they knew.

Still, it buoyed her spirits to see how they cared for him. It made her feel like, despite her own crimes, she might one day do enough good to tip the scales.

Several blocks from the Necropolis, Ren turned. Behind their carriage—an ornate golden monstrosity—a second vehicle trundled along. Unlike the king’s, this one went unremarked. A simple wooden construction, barely as large as the coffin it carried.