‘Your hand.’ Ashes’ voice was unexpected – low and honeyed – and Sapphire could not focus. The girl arched a sharp brow. ‘I need your hand to do the charm.’

Sapphire looked at her fist, unclenching it slightly while considering her next move. Finally, she extended her left hand, but Ashes shook her head.

‘The scarred one.’ Her voice was now laced with impatience and irritation. Sapphire remained motionless, staring up at Ashes.

‘Please, Sapphire,’ Queen Araxia spoke. ‘If I am somehow wrong about this, you have my word … I will personally see to it that you return to Witrotean.’

Promises made in high-stake scenarios don’t tend to be kept, but this was more than Sapphire had been offered since her arrival. So, begrudgingly, she offered her other hand, and Ashes accepted it, pausing slightly at the first sensation of touch until Savina cleared her throat and Ashes returned to the task at hand.

The girl’s touch silenced the world around Sapphire. Her mind and heart slowed for the first time all day.

Ashes pulled a small dagger from the bag hanging from her shoulder. Sapphire tugged at her hand, trying to free herself, but the girl’s grip tightened, and she smiled.

‘Why make this difficult? Obey, and it will all be over soon.’

‘You don’t command me,’ Sapphire snapped.

‘Your attitude surely suits your supposed status.’ Ashes leaned in a bit closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. ‘But you’ve been unable to take your eyes off me since I entered this room, so why don’t you be a good girl and do as I ask?’

Sapphire froze at the challenge, and Ashes took advantage of her lapse to drag the blade across her hand. Blood trickled along the crease of her palm in a tiny red stream, and she watched as Ashes drew it out by magic, floating it in the air between them.

The girl began to chant deep, guttural words that rang through Sapphire’s bones like chimes in the wind. Together they watched as the shallow trail of her blood drifted across the hall, moving towards the thrones.

The queen opened her own hand, silent tears rolling down her cheeks as the blood settled on to her palm, soaking into her skin.

‘She is yours,’ said Ashes.

The breaking of the spell felt like a twig snapping in Sapphire’s mind; some unseen tether pulling free. Her eyes locked on the girl’s hand in hers until the queen wrenched them apart, crushing her in a hug.

‘My daughter. My sweet Aylara.’

‘That’s not my name,’ Sapphire murmured into the soft fabric of the queen’s dress, but the woman only tightened her hold. The king loomed a few steps away, watching them closely, his expression guarded.