Memories of her childhood flooded back to her at the sound of her mother’s scratching voice: the years of harsh words and disappointment, the expectations of greatness that she could never quite live up to. Bri remembered the days when Helvia wouldn’t let her eat until she perfected the steps of the Western dances. She still felt the switch being lashed across the back of her hands when she didn’t write letters to the high-born fae families, thanking them for their continued fealty to the Catullus name. She’d never told anyone how bad her training became. Only Talhan knew. It was why he never stopped her from pledging her sword to Hale. Her mother’s actions loomed over her worse than any prophecy and, now that Bri was free of her, she’d be damned if she gave Helvia what she wanted after all these years: her daughter on the Western throne.

“I never had a desire to take a throne that wasn’t mine,” Bri snarled. “But now that Hale is the King of another kingdom, and the Eastern crown is unclaimed, it’s clear that is what the Fates whispered on the day of my birth.”

“So you have no plans to stay with the Western Princess then?” Helvia’s face twisted into a wicked smirk, and suddenly Bri realized she’d walked right into her mother’s trap.

Lina froze beside Bri and her heart plummeted. They’d been speaking of a future, together, and Bri’s words had just undone all of it. She couldn’t claim the Eastern crown and stay by Lina’s side. She couldn’t do both. At some point she’d have to choose, and every moment, every breath, she teetered between the opposing desires. But right then, with the person who’d tortured her for this goal standing in front of her, she couldn’t give Helvia what she wanted, not after she’d spent her whole life fighting to free herself from her mother’s oppressive grip.

Bri paused, a damning pause that she knew Lina felt in every cell of her body.

“Excuse me,” Lina said, turning and leaving.

“Lina,” Bri called after her.

“Whatever it takes, Briata.” Her mother’s chilling voice echoed down the hallway and she halted. “That girl is weak. It is you who will seize the Western crown.”

Bri whirled at her mother, unsheathing her dagger in one quick move and pointing it straight at Helvia’s chest.

“Go on. One more word,” she growled, pressing the tip into Helvia’s sternum until her mother silently shook her head. An infuriating smirk flashed across Helvia’s face. “There is not one sliver of good in you, is there? Not a single scrap.”