That was about as close as Kiva ever dared to show any kind of backbone, but after years of these meetings with the Warden, she felt safer with him than any of the other guards. She had reason to, even if she knew her allegiance didn’t guarantee her safety.

The Warden rubbed his temple. “Kiva, you know I respect you. Care for you, even. You’ve proved your skills as a healer time and time again, and you’ve earned my regard through your years of service. Because of that, I must warn you.”

Kiva braced herself.

“The day is coming when I’m going to need more from you,” Rooke continued. “The rebels within the prison are becoming a problem. I can only assume it’s because their movement outside is advancing, with rebel numbers growing every day as that queen of theirs leads them to slaughter. The fools.” Rooke shook his head, as if pitying them.

Kiva’s heart rate doubled. Any mention of the outside world had her aching for more. In the last decade she’d only managed to hear snippets of what was happening beyond Zalindov’s walls. When she’d first arrived at the prison, the rebel movement had been little more than a group of impassioned nomads searching for their long-lost queen, whispering about how she had a legitimate claim to the throne of Evalon—treasonous words with grave consequences for those caught by the Royal Guard. It was only after Kiva’s imprisonment that she heard their queen had come out of hiding and was now leading their cause, seeking one thing: vengeance. Not justice, not a chance to debate why the crown belonged to her. No, the Rebel Queen wanted revenge for all that had been taken from her. For all that she’d lost. For the kingdom and its power that should have been hers at birth.

From what Kiva had gleaned over the last few years, the Rebel Queen was slowly—very slowly—beginning to take ground.

Rooke called them fools. Kiva wasn’t so sure.

“They have an energy, a spark, that’s building,” the Warden went on, still talking about the imprisoned rebels. “It might not be much yet, but the smallest spark can cause a flame, and I want to avoid that. For their sakes.”

Kiva shuddered at the look in his eyes. The rebels inside Zalindov would meet a swift death if Rooke or any of the guards caught so much as a hint of them plotting anything. Whether it was escape on their minds, or something simpler like stirring up the other prisoners, or even rallying more numbers to their side, it didn’t matter. If they acted out—in any way—their lives would be forfeited.