‘Because he is dead.’ The witch’s voice was so calm that it made Sapphire shiver.

‘How did he die?’

Ashes gave her a grim smile.

‘For powers like mine, sacrifices must be made. Offerings to the ancestors. The man who was my father paid a price that I am grateful for.’ Sapphire swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, refusing to consider the implications of Ashes’ confession. ‘I was trained from a young age, made a warrior of the shadows. The rest is rather unimportant.’

Sapphire nodded, watching as she clenched her jaw. She wanted to know every small detail of Ashes’ upbringing, but she didn’t want to lose the opportunity for the conversation to continue. She waited for the witch to ask about her own childhood, but the question never came.

‘The polite thing would be to ask me about my childhood, Ashes.’

‘I’ve never cared much for being polite.’ Ashes smiled as she said it.

‘Your avoidance is more irritating than usual today.’

Ashes snaked an arm around Sapphire’s waist, pulling her closer. ‘Tell me about the place you came from.’

The words burst from Sapphire’s mouth with unstoppable force – like she was desperate to bare her soul entirely. The darkness, the never-ending shadowed land. The beasts that hunted in the nights. She explained the famine, her days spent in the haunted forest, searching for scraps of food. She told of the Home, of Martia, of the girls who felt like sisters. Shared clothes, small rooms, too many beds crammed into one room. The silence returned, more poignant.

‘Why have you never asked about my home? About how I got here? Everyone else seems curious.’

Ashes shrugged, a thoughtful look on her face.

‘I am much more interested in the present day than the ghosts of your past, highness. But tell me a secret about that land. One you’ve never told anyone.’

Sapphire’s heart fluttered. This was a new type of intimacy … not one of feverish, bruising kisses and desperate hands, but a sort of closeness they had never explored before. And there was only one secret to share … she knew that. She took a deep breath.

‘I always had … these visions. Visions of death and destruction. I watched as lives were taken … by water, by fire, by lightning. They were inescapable, haunting. I became so accustomed to death, to the smell, the sight of it.’

Ashes had gone rigid.

‘They came unexpectedly, pulling me under in a way that felt endless. I tried for so many years to save the people in the visions, to spare one life from hell, but I failed. I failed every single time until –’

Sapphire stopped short as she studied Ashes. Her red hair danced in the wind, her black dress was splayed across the ground. Sapphire cut her eyes to her thin, pale hands, and something so familiar struck her.

But, mercy, that hand. That hair.