“A dog? You’re a wanted man, accused of treason, and you brought a dog into this?” She shook her head. “Is that fair to the dog?”

“Wasn’t my idea,” Han said. He looked up at Raisa, tired, travel worn, and desperate. “He wouldn’t stay where I put him. He kept following me, so I finally had to give him a ride so he wouldn’t run himself to death.”

Raisa’s heart twisted. This is the man they accuse of murdering wizards? This is the ruthless killer plotting against me? And the conviction within her flared up brighter than ever: I don’t care how many witnesses they have. I don’t care what the evidence says. There is no way.

“Hear me out,” Han said. “And then if you want to have me arrested, I won’t resist.”

I don’t want to have you arrested, Raisa thought. How could you think I would want that?

And yet—you’ve kept secrets from me since the day we met. We can’t go on like this.

“I’ll listen,” Raisa said, “if you’re ready to tell me the truth.” She patted the bench beside her. “Come, sit down. I assume it will take a while.”

Han crossed the garden, the dog at his heels, and sat down, resting his hands on the stone bench, the breeze from Hanalea ruffling his fair hair. He seemed at a loss for how to begin.

“I’m not very good at this,” he said, his voice so soft Raisa could scarcely hear it. “All my life, I’ve kept things to myself. When everyone around you is out for blood, it’s safer that way.” He cleared his throat, looked at her. “It’s not an excuse. Just an explanation.”

Raisa stared out into the garden, the silence between them thick as winter honey. Gray shadows padded toward them. Raisa’s ancestors—their ancestors—formed a circle around them, as if to insulate them from the world.

The dog pressed himself against their legs, hackles raised, growling low in his throat. Han stroked his head, gazing out at the circle of wolves. “Just a little extra pressure, right?”

A trick of their shared blood, Raisa thought, with a rush of understanding. No wonder he can see the ancient queens.

“So. I can just start in talking. Or you can ask me questions.” Han looked up hopefully. “And I promise to tell the truth.”

Raisa sighed, wondering if she really wanted to hear it. “Is it true we are related?”

“Yes.”

“And our ancestors are Queen Hanalea and Alger Waterlow?”

“Yes.”

“This is news to me, but apparently you’ve known for some time.” It was a statement, not a question, but Han nodded anyway. “So why did I have to hear from someone else?” Raisa said in a rush, her voice low and furious.