In lieu of visiting, at the end of each of her endless meetings, Akeylah eased into the topic of her sister. By the time she was through with her appointments, she had talked at least a few nobles into a fury over “Lady Florencia’s undeserved public slandering.”

“After all,” Akeylah found herself repeating, over and over, “we haven’t even begun a proper trial, yet she’s already being condemned. Is this any way to treat a king’s daughter?”

By the second evening, the muttering in the Great Hall started to shift. Now, Akeylah overheard people who variously supported or pitied her.

“I hear Eastern rebels forced Lexana to make it all up,” one minor noblewoman said.

“Well, I heard that Traveler girl cursed her from afar. Lady Florencia had no idea what she was doing when she sold us out, poor dear.”

At that, Akeylah bristled, but when she turned to search out the gossip, she couldn’t tell who among the sea of faces at her table had spoken.

She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t buy one sister’s innocence at the price of the other’s. But she could not afford to correct every rumormonger in the Keep either.

The one good thing about her breakneck schedule was it left her no time for worrying.

The third morning, instead of burying herself in the library to hunt for countercurses the way she’d planned, Akeylah went back to the royal chambers. She had the regional council meeting later that afternoon, but for now, she needed a respite. Between Father’s illness, Ren’s confinement, and the political machinations… It was too much. She needed to feel alive again.

She needed Rozalind.

Outside Father’s chambers, a Talon stopped her. “Delivery came for your father while you were at breakfast, my lady,” he said as he handed her a box swathed in black velvet. “We checked the contents, to be safe. Just a wooden doll and a letter.”

“I’ll take it to him, thank you.” She reached out to accept the package.

Only once he’d laid it in her arms did the Talon add, “It’s from your stepfather, I believe, my lady. Jahen dam-Senzin. That was your old surname, no?”

Her blood went cold.

Would Jahen send her father a package? He hadn’t shown his face in court since the day she arrived, and thank Mother Ocean for that. What could he possibly have to say to the king?

“Did you read the letter?” she asked. She couldn’t imagine what it would be about. Unless… She thought about the forged letters the heir created for Ren. The last vision the heir cursed Akeylah with—her stepfather towering over her, fists balled.

Unless this package isn’t from Jahen dam-Senzin at all.

The Talon, meanwhile, seemed affronted. “Of course not, my lady. We don’t read His Majesty’s private correspondence.”