Studying my new mother, it was still shocking to know she’d willingly walked into a marriage that tied her so closely to such a wicked king. But, then again, I’d unwittingly done the same.

The Eastoffes were descendants of Jedreck the Great, the first in the long-running line of kings on the Isolten throne. Isolte’s current ruler, King Quinten, was descended from the first son of Jedreck, but not his first child. The Eastoffes were descendants of Jedreck’s third son. Only dear old Etan—a Northcott—could boast a lineage dating back to Jedreck’s firstborn child, a daughter who had been passed over in favor of a boy.

Whatever the history, Quinten saw all Eastoffes and Northcotts as threats to his reign, which was coming to a swift close unless his son suddenly took a turn to better health.

I didn’t understand it.

I didn’t understand why he seemed intent on driving away—no, murdering—men who held royal blood. Prince Hadrian was not exactly the stoutest of souls, and when King Quinten himself died, as all mortals do, someone would have to take the throne. It made no sense to me that he was killing off everyone with a legitimate claim to it.

Silas included.

So, here we were, determined to ensure that the ones we lost didn’t die in vain and painfully aware of how likely we were to fail in the process.

“Who goes there?” We heard the barking call over the squeaking of the wheels. Instantly, the carriage pulled to a stop. Scarlet was immediately upright, her hand pulling out of her skirts a small knife I didn’t know she’d been hiding.

“Soldiers,” Etan murmured. “Isolten.” Then louder, he called: “Good afternoon. I am Etan Northcott, a soldier in His Majesty’s—”

“Northcott? That you?”

I watched as Etan’s face softened, his eyes squinting. He was suddenly much more at ease.

“Colvin?” he called back. There was no answer, so I took it to the affirmative. “I’m escorting my family back home from Coroa. By now you will have heard about my uncle. I’m bringing his widow and daughters home.”

There was a pause, hinting at the confusion this created, when the soldier started speaking again.

“Widow? Surely you don’t mean Lord Eastoffe is dead?”

Etan’s horse bucked beneath him, but he steadied him quickly. “Indeed. And his sons. I was charged by my father to bring the rest of the family back to safety.”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“Our condolences to your family. We will let you through, but we must do a security check. Protocol.”

“Yes, of course,” Etan agreed. “I understand.”

The soldier approached to examine our carriage while another walked around the outside, looking beneath the frame. By his voice, I recognized that the one looking in on us was the one Etan had been speaking with. “My Lady Eastoffe,” he said, tipping his head toward Mother. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“We thank you for your concern. And for your service,” she replied.

“You ladies are lucky to have been met by the best regiment in Isolte,” he said, puffing his chest. “This road is usually crawling with Coroans. They set fire to a border village not two weeks ago. If they’d come upon you, I don’t know what would have happened.”