“But you really fell in love with her,” Bri muttered.

“How could you not?” Tem grinned. “You’ve seen her.”

Bri didn’t reply, unwilling to admit that she understood the magnetic draw of the Princess all too well. She thought back to their training, the sight of her in her battle leathers, wielding that heavy axe as if it were a feather. Never had anyone bested her so quickly . . . or looked so good doing it. Lina was magnificent.

“Who do you think was behind the attack?” Bri cocked her head at Tem as halos of smoke circled his head.

“The witch hunters seem the most likely,” he said. “But I wouldn’t put anyone beyond suspicion right now.”

Bri nodded—at least in that they could agree. “Some of the guards have connections to the witch hunters. Why have they not been dismissed?”

Tem let out a mirthless laugh. “Because the witch hunters and the Western fae are mostly one and the same at this point.”

“How?”

“There’s not a corner of the West that they don’t touch.” Tem frowned, inspecting the smoking embers of his cigar. “Whether through friends or family, everyone knows at least one fae who was once a witch hunter.”

“Once? But not anymore?”

“The smart ones abandoned the hunts years ago,” he said. “Once they realized there were no red witches left, the money became considerably less. And selling other types of witches into the North was frowned upon.” He shook his head. “Awful business. Truly the worst sort of people nabbing any kind of witch and selling them into servitude. Even Cole might have been grabbed were it not for the Queen’s dogged protection.”

“But many of the Western fae thought it was okay to hunt the red witches?” Bri glared at the wall, thinking of the attack on Remy when they’d found her in the Western backcountry. Hale had been in such a murderous rage after that attack. Standing there amongst the bloodied fallen like the God of Death, she should have known then that he and Remy were Fated.

“I can’t condone it,” Tem said. “But I can say that it was heavily encouraged by Her Majesty.”

Bri’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Queen Thorne encouraged the red witch hunts throughout the West.” His lips curved downward as his carefree mask slipped. “She wanted to drain the Northern Court of as much of their wealth as possible. She knew Vostemur was desperate for red witch heads and wouldn’t think twice in spending all his kingdom’s gold to ensure he got them.” He held his cigar between his lips, his voice muffled as he took another drag. “In some ways it was a clever plan, though a ruthless one. The West stayed out of the wars and became tentative allies with the North, all the while draining them of their coin.”

“So it was true that Queen Thorne was hoarding her gold,” Bri murmured, thinking of the gossip spread around her household as a child. Her mother had said the Western Queen had amassed two courts’ worth of gold in her bloody trade with the North.