Flower Moon came up behind her with a cushioned chair. Bright Hand brought a fur throw, and Raisa wrapped it around herself gratefully, wishing she could pull it over her head and hide. Wishing she could be alone with her grief. Successor queens traditionally retreated to the temple for three full days of mourning before assuming their duties.

But, no. That was not possible—not now. Even though her insides ground together like shards of shattered glass.

She gestured at the people on the floor. “Please,” she said. “Get up. Or sit down. Make yourselves comfortable.” She blotted tears from her face with the heels of both hands. “Tell me what happened. Tell me everything.”

“Briar Rose…” Averill stopped and swallowed hard, glancing around the common room. “We don’t need to do this now—in public. Your mother—”

“My mother is dead, and I feel like I’m hanging by a thread. I need you to tell me everything—what you know, and what you only suspect. Then we’ll decide what to do, and if we can allow time for mourning.”

Her father blinked at her. Took a second look. Then inclined his head in assent.

The apprentices brought in cushions to sit on, and Raisa managed to get everyone off their knees. Amon sat at her right-hand side, Willo on her left. Averill and Elena sat cross-legged in front of her.

Willo spoke to Bright Hand, who brought a cup of steaming tea to Raisa. She sipped at it, trying to ignore the cross signals her nerves were sending her, feeling strength coursing through her.

Willo put her hand on Raisa’s shoulder, and the healer’s touch calmed her and cleared her head. Raisa closed her eyes, wishing she could sink into the sleep of forgetting.

One thought was uppermost in her mind: This is all my fault.

“How did it happen?” Raisa said, opening her eyes. “And when?”

“She fell from the Queen’s Tower four days ago,” Averill said, looking down at his hands. “In the early evening. She fell from her balcony, landed in the courtyard, and was killed.”

Raisa thought back. That would have been the night the wolves appeared to her. The night eight renegade guardsmen did their best to kill her. The night after Edon Byrne died. It was too much of a coincidence. The events were linked—they must be.

She remembered Althea’s words: The Bayar blocked up Queen Marianna’s ears so she could not hear our warnings. And now she will pay the price.

Willo stroked Raisa’s hair, gesturing for more tea. “You were both in the city at the time?” Willo asked, looking from Amon to Averill.

Averill nodded. “Corporal Byrne had just arrived from the West Wall with the news that Briar Rose had disappeared from Oden’s Ford.”