Akeylah hesitated. She hated to pry, but she wanted to know how bad this was. “Is it enough to justify Father throwing her into the dungeons?”

“It’s… I’ve done worse. I don’t judge Zofi. But I understand why Father arrested her.”

Akeylah cursed under her breath. In the back of her mind, she heard the heir’s words. Understand what I do to my enemies. She was beginning to.

“We didn’t leave when the heir demanded,” Ren continued. “This is exactly what they said they’d do—reveal our secrets to Father.”

“We don’t know they’re behind this. Though, it does sound like them.…” Akeylah frowned as they reached the king’s suites. The immense cherry stonewood doors of His Majesty’s chambers were flanked by Talons, though this time the guards waved them onward.

Akeylah’s mind leaped to a happier memory. The last time she entered these chambers, she’d been at Rozalind’s side. Of all the places in the Keep to be overheard, here is the least likely, Rozalind had whispered as she drew Akeylah across the threshold.

Why is that? Akeylah had asked.

Because my husband doesn’t plant spies in his own bedroom.

For an instant, all she could think about was that moment, when Rozalind’s lips collided with hers. She shook her head, jarred herself back to the present.

“Lady Akeylah and Lady Florencia, Your Majesty,” a Talon announced.

A thick curtain had been drawn around Andros’s four-poster bed. More drapes swathed the windows, and the lanterns burned low, candles guttering in their frames.

Rozalind appeared like a spectre in the gloom. “Close the door.”

Akeylah and Ren stepped inside, and the guards barred the latch behind them.

Only then did Rozalind rush forward, catching Akeylah in an embrace so tight it knocked the wind from her lungs. “Akeylah. Florencia,” she added over Akeylah’s shoulder with a tight smile.

“How is he?” Akeylah murmured into the queen’s hair. Her normally pristine bronze curls were a tangled mess.

“Not good.” Rozalind drew away, too soon, and Akeylah’s arms felt empty from the lack of her.

“Can we see him?” Ren asked.

Akeylah’s pulse doubled as Rozalind drew the curtain. Andros lay on the sheets, eyes open, mouth slack. Completely immobile. No. No, no, no…

But then a slow, shuddering inhale sounded, and she watched his chest rise. It fell again a moment later, his breath fluttering the sheet tucked under his chin.

Her shoulders slumped in relief. He wasn’t dead. Not yet. “How long has he been like this?”

Rozalind perched on the foot of the bed. “Ever since he spoke to Zofi last night.”

“You mean ever since he had her arrested.” Ren took up a spot at her father’s right hand.