Kiva tried to think back to when Mirryn had given her the amulet. She’d implied that she’d filled the ruby with her own magic, but now Kiva realized she’d never actually said it outright. Was it really the crown prince who had intervened—again? Mirryn had alluded to Deverick’s superficial thoughts toward Kiva, and he himself had flirted with her in the infirmary, but was that truly enough for him to have saved her? Twice? And if so, why did Mirryn make Kiva believe the amulet was from her?

The last, Kiva figured, was because the Vallentis siblings weren’t supposed to be helping her. Tilda Corentine was their enemy, and ignoring her mystery illness, Kiva was all that stood between the Rebel Queen and death. The crown prince would likely find himself in a great deal of trouble with his court should anyone realize what he had done.

But . . . why had he done it? Was it truly because he was attracted to her?

My brother is a reckless, impulsive fool, yet he still manages to be one of the best people I know.

Recalling what Mirryn had said about Deverick, Kiva wondered if maybe, just maybe, the crown prince understood justice better than the rest of his family. Maybe he thought Tilda was worth giving a fighting chance. Maybe he thought she was worth saving—and Kiva, too.

Uncertain, Kiva realized that now wasn’t the time to puzzle it over. Not when she was barely holding on to consciousness.

“It won’t happen again,” Kiva told Rooke, meaning it. She had no further tricks up her sleeve, no more amulets or anything else that could help in her next elemental task. And the royal siblings were long gone. She would get no assistance—or answers—from them.

“See that it doesn’t,” the Warden said gruffly. Then his tone softened, and he moved closer, until they were eye to eye. “I’m . . . glad you’re still alive.”

Kiva struggled to keep up with the turn in conversation, every part of her aching.

“I mean it,” Rooke went on. “I have to adhere to the law when it comes to these Ordeals, but I’m relieved that you survived.”

Kiva swallowed back the emotion welling within her, pain lacerating down her throat as she did so. Maybe Rooke did care, in his own way.

“After all, with this sickness going around . . .” Rooke trailed off, shaking his head as if fearing what her death would mean for them all.

Kiva’s heart plummeted at the reminder that he didn’t care about her, only what she could do for him. She was a fool for thinking he would ever be concerned for her welfare. Rooke was too pragmatic for that, too calculated to think about anyone but himself.

“I hear you’ve started to make progress?” he asked.