The solution to our troubles was not in Trianon, but neither was it in this camp. We weren’t going to win this way. It was a stopgap, but the fact remained that Tristan was the only one capable of defeating Roland, and he was as much caged within the Regent’s steel-rimmed castle walls as he ever had been in Trollus. By the time we found a solution to his debt to the Winter Queen – if there even was one – all the folk we’d hidden in the mountains would either have starved to death or sworn oaths to our enemies in a desperate attempt to save themselves. We needed to find Angoulême, capture him, and use him to bring Roland to heel, and I knew we weren’t going to discover his hiding spot through any of his followers. I’d already lost count of how many had fallen dead at my feet as I tried every trick I could think of to extricate the information on their leader’s whereabouts. But he’d been too clever – had been planning his strategy for far too long. The only information I’d gleaned was that Lessa was the only one who knew his location.

Lessa.

The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that the key was the statement Tristan’s half-sister had made to the Duke. A shame I can’t go with you – I would’ve liked to see the faces of my ancestors. Yes, Anaïs’s ancestors were famous and powerful trolls – there were countless portraits of them in Trollus. Probably dozens of places on the Isle where others still hung, but what would be so special about them?

Nothing.

Which meant that was the wrong track, because there had been reverence in her tone. This place was somewhere special, somewhere unique. And just because Tristan and my friends didn’t know about it didn’t mean no one did.

I chewed on my bottom lip, knowing that it would be risky. But we were running out of options and out of time, so maybe it was time to take a chance. I needed to go back to where the answers to my questions always seemed to be.

Back to Trollus.

There was no time to make preparations, nor any real need, given that I’d be going alone. It was reckless, I knew, but there was no other option. Victoria and Vincent were the only two holding back Roland’s growing army, Tristan was stuck in Trianon, and he needed Marc to help him hold the city. It had to be me.