What kind of legacy would she, Raisa, leave? One of grief and disappointment?

Raisa sat back, rubbing her eyes. The dormitory was as quiet as a tomb. Outside, the temple bells bonged out the hour. Nine o’clock.

Suddenly, she couldn’t bear the notion of sitting alone in her room on this most festive of nights—a night without curfews. We’re welcoming a new year, she thought. A time for new opportunities. Maybe a night to take a chance.

It wouldn’t hurt to get some air, she decided, yanking her cloak from the peg on the wall.

Once out the door, Raisa turned toward the river. She could hear the music from Bridge Street, where the fireworks would begin in a few hours. Would it be so risky to go just this once? She could find Talia and Hallie and raise a glass, at least. It had been so long since she’d seen fireworks. It was a shame not to spend Hallie’s last night with her.

As she walked toward the river, she couldn’t shake the twitchy feeling that someone was watching her. But when she turned around, she saw no one. There were lots of people in the streets, more and more as she neared the river.

There were evergreen boughs tied around lampposts and lanterns hung along the streets to guide the light back into the Seven Realms. The temples were brightly illuminated, festooned with glitternet and candles to drive off the dark. Within, the speakers and the temple choirs sang hymns to the Maker and drank from wassail bowls, just like at home. Raisa’s spirits lifted a little.

As she threaded her way through the narrow, stone-paved streets of the old town, gray wolves loped along on either side of her, yipping and whining as if trying to get her attention. She stopped, looked around. Saw nothing. Tried to settle her galloping heart.

Wolves sometimes meant a turning point. Maybe this solstice night signified new opportunities.

Your days of playing games are over, she told herself, trying not to think of Amon. She couldn’t marry—or even be with—Amon Byrne. That path was closed to her. What other path could she take?

She could marry outside of the Fells. Tamron’s Liam Tomlin had made it plain he was interested—but to what purpose she didn’t know. Liam might be the best marriage option from a political standpoint, but she needed more information to know for sure.

It didn’t hurt that Liam was younger and handsomer and more appealing than any other princeling she was likely to be matched with. She didn’t love him, but he was infinitely preferable to Gerard Montaigne, who sent shivers down her back.