My mind flashes back to every time Gil told me how important this fight was. How important it was to end the war. He was pushing us toward a trap from the very beginning, and despite every instinct and reservation, I walked right into it.

Caelan stills. “But as myself? As the Prince of Victory? I opened another door; I showed you another path. And you refused it.”

“It wasn’t a path—it was just another maze,” I growl, angry. “None of it was real.”

Caelan flinches. He’s a lie. The villain in my story. And he took away the person in death I cared about most. And yet, somehow, he looks as if I’ve dented his armor.

I stare at Gil’s vacant face, telling my aching heart that I have to let go of what I felt for him. That Gil doesn’t exist beyond a shell for the Resident Prince of Victory.

Gil has always been my enemy. I just didn’t know it until now.

“What are you going to do with me?” My voice is a speck of dust in space, floating aimlessly through darkness.

Prince Caelan’s silence fills the room.

“Oh, I think I have a few ideas,” says a voice, and Prince Ettore appears behind him.

Caelan whirls around like a wildcat. “This is neither your court nor your business.”

Prince Ettore chuckles darkly. “I think you’ll find my prisoners are my business.”

“She’s a prisoner of Victory,” Caelan says tersely.

Ettore tilts his face mockingly. “Haven’t you heard? It seems the Chancellors of the Capital have grown tired of your methods. They were never thrilled about a court prince inhabiting the shell of a human, but they believed you were doing it for the good of Victory. But allowing a human to pose as one of us? It’s an insult to everything we stand for.” He glances toward me, eyes casting shadows my way. “And seeing as Nami is both aware and human, I have permission to take her to War.”

My knees feel weak—I feel weak.

And I hate that they get to see it.

“This is my court,” Caelan warns. “If you attempt to take human prisoners from my borders, you’re inciting an act of war.”

Ettore snarls in his brother’s face, flashing his teeth. “I welcome your war, brother.” The flames of his knives flicker at his sides. “But will you war with the Capital, too? If you don’t like the Chancellor’s decision, why don’t you take it up with our dear mother? I’m sure she’s very interested to hear why you’re refusing to honor the rules of trade between our courts.” Ettore eyes me testily. “I’m here to escort you both to the throne room.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I spit.