side of the Rock, where they had a view of the harbor and the Fingers where they sliced through the capital.
Marble Row had been decimated during the battle and had been in a constant state of rebuild for the fourteen years Sev had lived in the capital.
“And on the Rock is where the war ended. Just as they were born, they died—together,” Trix continued.
“Who did?” Sev asked.
“The princesses—the Ashfire heirs. They were False Sisters, you know. Shadow Twins. Siblings born mere moments apart by the same father and two different mothers. It creates a kind of bond, a connection that goes beyond blood. Avalkyra’s mother was queen, a Rider from an old Pyraean line who died in childbirth, and her sister’s mother had been a wealthy Stellan consort—until the death of the queen, when the king decided to marry her next. Even though Avalkyra was the first legitimate child of the king, his second marriage made Pheronia legitimate as well. And of course, no one was sure which princess was born first. The king never officially named an heir, the old fool, so the girls were pitted against each other from day one. She loved her, though, Avalkyra—she loved her sister, but it’s the strongest love that turns into the strongest hate. And hatred wins wars.” She paused. “Usually. In truth, neither sister won the Blood War. Avalkyra’s phoenix, Nyx, was gravely wounded—I watched from a tower window as both Rider and mount fell from the sky. They landed amid the rubble and destruction near the outer walls of the Nest. Before long, the flames engulfed them both.”
Her voice had gone hoarse, and she cleared it before continuing.
“Riders are immune to their mount’s fire, of course, but only while their phoenix is alive to protect them. As for Pheronia, the foolish girl left the safety of her tower room—looking for her sister, some say, hoping to make peace or surrender—and was taken by an arrow as she roamed the palace walls. They brought her to me, you know,” she said, and Sev straightened. He had no idea she’d been so closely involved. He’d assumed that as a spy, she’d simply watched from the shadows.
“Oh yes. I was an assistant healer working inside the Nest, and of course all the properly trained practitioners were busy elsewhere. They brought that dying princess to me and wanted a miracle.” Trix sighed. “The arrow went clean through her chest. There’s no saving someone from that sort of wound. Still, I did what I could for her. . . . People like to talk about the princesses as if they were seasoned politicians, analyzing every fault and misstep. But seeing her there, dying on my table . . . she was just a girl, barely eighteen, alone and afraid.”
Sev was eighteen, old enough to be considered an adult and allowed to join the military instead of the labor camps for his criminal sentence. It was hard to imagine having the weight of an empire on his shoulders when he could barely keep his own life together.
Trix’s gaze was distant, as if she were reliving the past inside her head. Finally she seemed to come back to herself and poked at the fire once more.
“Now we have no princesses, no queen or king. The governors bicker and squabble, back to their old ways, fighting against one another for every scrap of power and control. It’s been sixteen years, and they’ve yet to get a majority vote for someone to succeed the throne. The prudent ones fear a civil war; the power-hungry ones are simply biding their time. Their provincial armies are only just now coming back to full strength, but soon someone will make a move and seize the power that is there and waiting.”
“Do you think the Phoenix Riders could do it? That they could put someone on the throne again?” Sev asked.
Trix looked at him sharply, as if surprised by the question. Her eyes were dark, shadowy pools when she replied. “In truth, I don’t know what their purpose is, hidden as they are up in the mountains. But yes, I believe that one day, they could put a Phoenix Rider queen on the throne again.”
Sev wanted to ask if she thought they should, but he held back. Surely it would mean more fighting, more wars, and he couldn’t help but feel that the struggle might not be worth it . . . that the Phoenix Riders would return only to be wiped out