One step at a time. She’d said that to me every day for weeks. I struggled to latch on to the words. We’d possibly discovered who had ordered the attack on me. Now, I needed to hatch the egg. But how in the Saints’ name was I supposed to do that?

I attempted a smile. “One step at a time.”

* * *

I woke paralyzed.

As I’d slept, each of my worries had climbed into bed and settled on my chest like crows to roost. Late morning sunlight poured through the windows, teasing me with its light and warmth, but crawling out from under the covers seemed too big a task.

Move.

Nothing.

This was how it was. One moment, I was moving forward, and the next, I couldn’t move at all. No matter how important the day or what I needed to do, the feeling came and refused to leave.

I hated it.

Why was I so weak? I’d been worthless the last few months. I still was. I couldn’t hatch the egg. Couldn’t help Rhodaire or myself.

Useless.

Illucia had taken everything from me, and I’d given up. They’d taken everything from the Jin princess too, and if the rumors were true, she’d organized a rebellion in response. Not to mention to have known about the engagement, she either had spies in our castle or Illucia’s.

She’d lost everything, and she’d moved forward. Why couldn’t I?

Someone knocked. I burrowed deeper into the blankets, blocking out the golden sunlight. Staying in bed was so much easier than getting up and facing everything waiting for me.

The knocking came again, more fervent, which narrowed it to Kiva or Caliza. The door banged open. Caliza then.

Loud footsteps preceded a flood of light as she tore back my blankets.

I glared up at her. “Don’t you have more important things to do besides force me out of bed?”

“You’re late for the tour.”

Damn it. Pushing my pillow behind me, I slid up to sit against the headboard. “I forgot.”

“You can’t keep fighting me every—”

“I forgot!”

She drew a sharp breath, nostrils flaring. Her words came out taut as a bowstring. “I understand you’re in pain, Anthia, but you’re not the only one, and you can’t keep wasting away your life wallowing in self-pity when—”

“It isn’t self-pity!” I screamed. “I’m depressed!”

My words echoed through the room, my chest rising and falling in quick bursts. The anger ebbed out of me, leaving behind a feeling I didn’t recognize. A beast inside me slowly uncoiled, releasing a tension so deeply ingrained, it had become a part of me.

I’d never said those words before.