She could, at least, appreciate that he was talking to her and not the militairen. They seemed to remain in the room more out of curiosity than allegiance to their king. She made sure to use that. “My name is Coralythe Avond. I am loyal to the king—to you.”

A militair cleared his throat to cover a snicker. King Mattias’s jaw clenched. “I’ll take it from here.”

The militairen left with nothing more than petulant irritation. No bows. No salutes. A generaal and the council member remained. “You’d best get to your point.”

Very well. “Long have the Talented turned on the crown they were supposed to be serving—turned on you. They enact their own agendas. And so I present you with a gift that was long ago taken from the crown when it should have been given to the king.”

She pulled a stoppered flask on a neck chain from beneath her dress. “This is but a splash of the gift I’ve brought to the schloss. Water . . . from the Nightwell.”

The generaal and council member recoiled. But Mattias’s eyebrows went up. “That’s forbidden.” He took the flask from her. “The Nightwell was dammed up long before my father’s birth.” He lifted his eyes to her. “Are you saying you have a Bane?”

To confess could be the death of her. But it would also reveal her loyalty—at least the appearance of it. She was truly devoted to no one but herself. “I do.”

“Witch!” The generaal drew his sword and stepped between King Mattias and Coralythe.

She held her ground. “I broke no law.”

“You traveled to the Nightwell,” King Mattias pointed out. “That was forbidden centuries ago.”

“By ancient and dead kings, Your Majesteit.”

“I gather you know its location then?”

She bowed her head. “Yes.” He was not silencing her like his generaal wanted to. He was listening. Asking questions. He was curious. He would keep listening, so she would keep offering up information. “My late mother birthed me in the waters of the Nightwell. I’m its messenger. I know the heart of the Nightwell more deeply than any scholar.”

“You speak of it as though it’s a person.”

“It’s more than water, Your Majesteit.” She inclined her head. “It gave me a Bane as well as the ability to pass a Bane on to another once per season.” At last he looked intrigued. So . . . the young king was tempted by Banes. She’d hoped as much. “But I have not used that gift—not without the command or permission of my king.”

King Mattias smirked, not wholly seduced by her smooth words. “Why bring this to me? Why expose yourself—and your lawbreaking—to your king?”