At least the dark and gloomy stairwell that led up to Mother’s tower was too narrow to fit the whole entourage that had marched the siblings through the town. It took Giles’s smooth tongue to persuade the duchess of Solenne and her two allies to stop at the bottom of the stairs. When Cordelia reached the locked and ironbound door at the very highest level of the tower, she turned to Lune and Arden with her jaw firmly set.

“Pass me the key.”

“Your Majesty, we would be more than happy to—”

“The key,” she snapped, infusing her voice with the full power of the land far below her feet.

She had endured everything else today. She had accepted the anchor of the Raven Crown. She had given up her wings for the sake of the kingdom and everyone inside it, and she had stepped voluntarily into this cage of a stone castle.

But she would not face her mother at long last with these two dukes as interested onlookers. It was too much to ask.

The duke of Arden opened his mouth to object. The duke of Lune stilled him with a swift headshake. “Of course,” he said smoothly, “you’ll want a moment of privacy. We’ll wait out here, for your convenience.”

Cordelia turned the key in the lock with shaking fingers … and then stepped back to let Giles and Rosalind rush in first.

She slipped into the shadowy room behind them and Connall, closing the door firmly behind her and keeping the big iron key clenched tightly in her fist. Her eyes stayed fixed on the dirty stone floor while her triplets flung themselves into their mother’s startled embrace.

“Rosalind? Giles? What are you two doing here? They haven’t caught you, too—? Oh!” Mother’s voice cut off with a gasp.

A heavy weight seemed to press down against Cordelia’s head, far heavier than the silver crown she wore. She pushed back against it, forcing her chin upright and her gaze forward … to where her mother stared at her over her triplets’ heads with an expression of undiluted horror.

Connall silently closed one hand in support around her shoulder … and Cordelia’s spine stiffened with the strength of that connection. “We’re here to rescue you, Mother.” Her voice was perfectly steady as she raised her chin an extra notch. “Aren’t you glad?”

“Have you gone mad?” Eyes wide and haunted, Mother shook her head desperately. “This throne will kill you, Cordelia. I told you! If I could ever, just once, trust you to listen and do as I say instead of wildly running off and ignoring all of my—”

“Mother,” said Connall, “look at the crown Cordelia’s wearing. Please. See exactly what she’s wearing now!”

Mother frowned and squinted through the shadows. Shoulders squared, Cordelia stepped closer to catch the dim, slanting bars of light that fell from the high window.