I sink into my office chair as the morning sun slips through the window. My hand rakes my hair, eyes skimming across the scattered notes on my desk. Medicine or no, my head and arm ache, but today will be no shorter than all the rest.

I wonder what the courtiers will think, dealing with a prince who looks like he just got out of a tavern brawl.

One of the notes is Aselle saying we need to meet, so she has set up a morning tea for us. I quickly send a page off with a note claiming I'm busy for tea. I can't afford to let her order me about. Instead, I tell her we can meet for lunch if I have time.

A few notes are reports on casualties and wizard placements. The others are all from power-grabbing courtiers. Despite the fact that I'm now supposedly a rake, now that the queen has fallen ill, they seem desperate to get in my good graces.

Once I've fended off as many requests as I can, I go to the Queen's suite. Even though Illesiarr said she should recover, I can't shake the instinct that she's going to die. Everyone else has.

Shame tightens my chest. If I hadn't asked Leavi to spy for me, then her friend wouldn't have. His death, as much as I tried not to let it be, is on my hands.

Everyone else, the Kadranians will pay for.

The guards let me through, and I ask Elénna how my sister is.

Her lips twist. "There's been no change so far, milord." She doesn't move from her position mixing broth. She's almost as bad as Illesiarr about that sort of thing.

I approach the bedside, and the way this mirrors my first approach to my mother rocks me with discomfort. Her lying here where Mother lay, her sick and immobile where Mother died, is a similarity too strong to bear. I turn away.

"Let me know when something changes."

I visit the wall.

There's a kinsmanship here I didn't know before. In the past, I felt like an outsider checking in, but now I know what it's like to stand here face-to-face with the enemy. They won't stand here alone in the coming battles either, and I make sure they know it. Even so, our hope is a weary one. We've pushed the Kadranians back twice, but our forces are weak now. No matter how determined we are not to let them through our wall, we're exhausted, and it shows. Even with what feeble encouragement I'm able to offer them, the mood on the wall is drained, and I wonder how long sheer determination can power a dying army.

Once back in the castle, I go looking for Reyan.

"Oh! Prince!" High Lady Misanette calls out behind me. For a moment, I consider ignoring her, but her quick-tapping steps dismiss that notion. I turn, doing my best to keep any annoyance off my face. Last time she ran into me, she asked me what color the pedestals' cushions should be for the coronation. I don't think I can stand to answer questions about flower arrangements with the stench of blood and sweat still in my nose. She hurries across the space between us.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I was about to send you a note, but this is all the better!" She stops in front of me, clasping her hands. "We finished planning!"

"The coronation?" Elation battles chagrin. You shouldn't be so critical. "That's wonderful."

She nods enthusiastically, then sobers. "Of course, we need to wait until the Queen..."

My eyes close. "Yes." I take a deep breath. "Put everything on hold, then, and we'll construct it all as soon as she's well."

As we turn away, I try to push down the bitterness that they could construct Selenia's coronation in a night and yet pretend we must climb mountains to set up mine. I simply hope everything is as much to order as Misanette says it is. Already, I can hear the cries of illegitimacy if a single bit of tradition goes unchecked.

After searching myriad strategy rooms, the dining hall, and his suite, I finally find Reyan in a hall on the first floor. He stands with his back to me, looking at something on the table in front of him.

I step closer. "Reyan."

He spins, then his face relaxes. "Oh." Instinctively, I hear him add, It's just you.

"Do you have a moment?"

His throat clears. "Yes." He draws himself up. "Yes. What's wrong?"

I draw even with him, and the item he must have been looking at comes into view. It's a vase decorated in soldiers and swords. Mother gifted it to Father.

I tear my gaze from it back to Reyan. "Ahm."

"What is it?" He fingers the hilt of his sword absentmindedly.

Voice lowering, I say, "I had a vision yesterday."

His face crinkles in distaste. "I'm not a commoner, Aster. If you have information to bring to me, you don't have to dress it in mysticism."

Confusion bends into frustration at his ignorance. I scowl. "Visions aren't a tool to amaze the people." You dolt. "They're a Jaquelinian blessing, just like the Queen always having the right complement of children." And to that point, this is almost more of a curse.

He frowns.

"Did you not have the same history tutor I did?"

He shrugs, turning to continue down the hall. "I think we did. I just paid more attention to facts than fables."

My hand chokes the air before I hurry after him. For some reason, I thought Leavi was going to be the last person to call me a charlatan. "I'm serious, Reyan. Now's not exactly the time to go around lying to you."

His eyes narrow. "What exactly did you see then? With your magic, vision thing."

I'm not sure if he's fumbling around something he doesn't understand or just mocking me. "The visions are always of something bad that's going to happen. Always."

He frowns. "Alright."

"But all it showed me was reinforcements arriving."

"Our reinforcements?"

I nod.

"Then fate must have messed up and given you a good one."

My eyebrow raises. "And such a 'mess up' has never been recorded in hundreds of years of history?"

"You're sure they were Morineause. Not some sort of trick."

"They were waving blue and silver and charging the Kadranians."

"How in Antium could that be a bad thing?"

"I don't know. But I thought you should be aware." I stop walking, frustrated. "I have other things to take care of."