“Why do you want this so much?” I wasn’t sure why I asked the question. Maybe it was because standing face to face with her, I realized that this was the first time I’d spoken to Lessa as herself. The resemblance between us was undeniable, which made perfect sense, given we shared half the same blood.

She was my sister, and I had always known that, yet rarely had I spoken to her. Never once had I sought her out or tried to learn more about her, because even as a child, I’d known she was seen as an embarrassment to our family. Someone to be ignored. And by the time I’d grown brave enough for defiance, I’d been in the throes of pretending I considered half-bloods unworthy of my conversation.

It hadn’t been only my father who’d cast her aside, it had been her whole family. She, perhaps more than anyone, understood the cost of having human blood in Trollus. For that, did I not owe her at least the chance to prove that there was something good, some pure reason behind her sordid plan to become queen?

“Isn’t it obvious?” she said, quiet enough that I almost couldn’t hear her. “I was cast aside, sold into slavery, all because my mother had a fractional amount of human blood running through her veins. The fact that half my blood was Montigny counted for nothing. I was a bastard. An embarrassment. I should have been a princess, but instead I have served.” Her voice shook with emotion. “As myself, I will always be denied, but as Anaïs, nothing will be kept from me. Make me your queen, and you will have no fiercer ally in this world.”

She was my father’s daughter. Any doubt that might have existed in my mind about that was gone after hearing those words. There was no desire to do good pushing her toward the crown. No thought that she might change Trollus so that what had happened to her would never happen to another child. No hope that she might prove that half-bloods were worth as much as any full-blooded troll. Because I saw now that she hated the human part of her more than my father, than Angoulême, than me. Blamed it for all that she had suffered. She’d stolen Anaïs’s face to fool everyone else, but more than that, she’d taken it because she well and truly wanted to become the other girl.

Her pursuit of power had nothing to do with overthrowing all the limitations her human blood had placed on her – it was to create a circumstance where she could pretend those limitations didn’t exist because they didn’t apply to her. She cared nothing but for herself, and Trollus had seen enough of that sort of ruler on its throne.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “A thousand times, no. I will have nothing to do with this madness of yours, and rest assured, I will do everything in my power to ensure you are never crowned. And it is not because you are bastard born or that human blood runs in your veins.” I walked forward, leaning in so that we were almost nose to nose. “It is because you are not worthy.”