“Wait a moment, Ren, you’re going to spill the sheep’s milk,” Mama scolded. Then she set down breakfast and scooped Ren into her arms. The two embraced until the Talons left.

Only then did Mama kiss her cheek and draw back to study her, gaze sharp as a stormwing’s. “What have they been doing to you?”

“Nothing, Mama. I told you, I’m fine.”

“These vultures have you locked up like a criminal. That’s about as far from fine as you can get.” Mama’s lips twisted into a scowl. “I told you not to trust that Easterner.”

“Akeylah’s trying to help, Mama. Danton says she stalled the regional council from putting me on trial.”

Mama scoffed. “Some help that is. You wouldn’t need anybody to stall anything if that girl would just publicly denounce these ridiculous charges. I’ll bet she’s the one who concocted this story in the first place, to get you out of her way. You’re the best-suited candidate, after all—the most natural heir.”

At that, Ren turned away. She crossed to her windows. Through the panes, she could see all the way to the Living Wall. The River Leath glinted beyond its leafy canopy, a distant flash of silver wrapped like a bracelet around Kolonya City.

Spread under her feet was the city itself. The terra-cotta rooftops of the merchant’s district, the brightly colored tents of the marketplaces, the white-painted brick of the scholars’ quarter, the dark stone of the Necropolis. So many people. So many lives.

She wondered how many had relatives on the ships at Burnt Bay.

Only when Mama crossed the room to stand beside her did Ren speak again, in a whisper. “The charges are true, Mama.”

For a moment, Mama fell silent. Her eyebrows rose, then lowered again, even deeper thunderclouds than before. “Who made you do it? Did the rebels force the plans from you?”

“Shh,” she hissed, because Mama’s voice had risen dangerously close to a volume the Talons might overhear. “Nobody forced me, Mama. I did it of my own volition.” Well, mostly. “I didn’t think anyone would get hurt. The rebels said they wanted to escape, not attack us.”

Mama swore.

“I’ve regretted it every day since. But that won’t change anything. It won’t give all these people their families back.” She gestured at the city. “Perhaps this is what I deserve. Perhaps I should just tell Akeylah to go ahead and call a tribunal.”

“No.” Mama narrowed her eyes. “You’re right, Ren, you cannot change the past. Which means there’s no sense in you sacrificing yourself, or all your hard work—all my hard work, too, I might add—to get you this far. Leaders make mistakes sometimes; it comes with the territory. But letting your sister exploit you—”