“Do you really think it can be so simple?” The other woman sighs and shakes her head. “They may have started as something else, Kathryn, but they’re children now. Your children. Can you truly give up the others to protect her, once you’ve raised them all as your own?”

“What choice do I have?” The sorceress straightens until she is out of sight from the window, but her voice cuts like a dagger through the night air. “I couldn’t keep Connall safe, and he isn’t even a royal heir. I will protect Cordelia no matter what sacrifices I have to make. That bloodthirsty throne won’t steal her from me, too!”

At the rage in her rising voice, all three infants stir restlessly—first one and then the others all twisting and whimpering together.

Leaning over the cot, she lets out a breath. Then she strokes her long fingers across all three chests in a row and begins to sing the low, familiar tune that the forest heard her humming all through her pregnancy:

“Little ones, go to sleep, it is time now for dreaming …”

The forest sighs its appreciation of the lilting, comforting tune. It lets itself finally sleep, too, to the sound of that lullaby. It has been drained of its power for the moment, but it is content to rest and wait while that new, green shoot grows to save all of them.

White clouds of mist snapped apart, leaving Cordelia reeling. Her breath was a burning bellows in her chest. Panting, she blinked and blinked again …

And found both of her triplets standing with her on the high slopes of Mount Corve, with all her own horror reflected in their faces.

The past and the present blurred in all their eyes …

And a broken silver crown, engraved with starflowers, lay in three pieces on the grass between them.

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

Giles moistened his lips with his tongue and swallowed, his face bone-white. “No wonder,” he whispered, “you didn’t want to tell us. You really were trying to protect us.” His lips stretched into a painfully false smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, Cor—Your Majesty. I’ll just—”

“No!” Even Cordelia was startled by the force of her own panicked bellow.

It was too much. Everything was too much. She’d spent her life trying to find out her family’s deepest secrets, but none of the pieces of the past made any sense as they whirled around her now. The unmistakable feeling of her brother’s retreat was enough to tear away her last anchor.

“It’s not right,” she said. “It can’t be right! I’m not the Raven Heir.”

Even Lady Elianora hadn’t believed that. She’d been more than ready to put Giles or Rosalind on the throne.

No one would ever want to offer Cordelia a crown … least of all herself.