“LET ME GO!” Kiva screamed, kicking at him, tears pouring from her eyes. “LET ME— I NEED TO— YOU HAVE TO—”

“Get him up,” the guard commanded the soldiers bearing down on Faran. The one whose blade was dripping with Kerrin’s blood stood immobile over him, his young face ashy, until his companions pushed him to the side. Only then did he return to himself, wiping his sword and advancing with the others. “We’ve got our orders.”

“PAPA!” Kiva sobbed, still kicking at the guard, but his grip was unyielding. “PAPA!”

Faran might as well have been as lifeless as his youngest son, for all that he reacted to her pleas. He did not fight, did not struggle at all as the guards heaved him up and began to drag him away.

“PAPA!”Kiva screamed again.

“Bury the boy,” the man holding her ordered his remaining soldiers. In a quieter, raspier voice, he added, “But have a care. He’s just a child.”

As the guards moved to collect Kerrin, Kiva wrestled even more fiercely against her captor. “DON’T—TOUCH—HIM!” she screeched. “DON’T—YOU—DARE—”

“I’m sorry about this, girl,” the man holding her murmured. “But you brought it on yourself.”

“LET ME GO!” Kiva choked out between sobs. “PAPA! PA—”

But a swift pain cut her off midcry, and then darkness flooded her vision, with her world—and her life—disappearing in an instant.

“I don’t have all day, healer. Wake up!”

A rough shake had Kiva’s eyes shooting open, prompting her to sit up with a gasp that turned into a coughing fit.

She couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t draw air into her lungs.

She couldn’t—

She couldn’t—

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” said a haughty female voice, moments before a hand came down on Kiva’s back, thumping hard.

Hacking and gagging, Kiva tried to shove her assailant away, but her attempt was weak. Pain lashed up her arms, down her legs, through her stomach. She felt bruised all over, like someone had come along with a meat cleaver and smashed it into her a thousand times.

“For everworld’s sake, just breathe like a normal person,” commanded the person still hitting her back. “It’s not that hard.”

Slowly, Kiva was able to stop coughing, though every part of her still ached. Tears streamed from her eyes at the effort it had taken to fill her lungs, and she raised a shaking hand to clear her blurry vision. When she was finally able to blink her way to clarity, she sucked in a breath so sharp that she nearly started coughing all over again.

“Your—Highness,” Kiva gasped out at the sight of the masked princess sitting on a stool beside her bed in the infirmary. “What—are—you—”