through her fingers again. Avalkyra stretched her awareness wide, seeking the binds she had in place, the only allies she could trust.
“Now,” Cassian continued, “if you release her, I may forget what I know about your designs on the throne, and we can let the Grand Council decide how to proceed.”
“You are outnumbered here, Cassian. I will dictate the terms,” Rolan spat.
Avalkyra had had enough. “She is not yours to barter with,” she cut in, looking between both Rolan and Cassian.
A stillness descended on the balcony, and Rolan stared at her with dark intensity, waiting to see if her identity was about to be proven.
Avalkyra had been standing next to Veronyka, partially concealed behind the surrounding soldiers, but now she stepped forward, jerking her arm out of a nearby soldier’s reach.
She felt Veronyka’s eyes on her—surprised, maybe, that Avalkyra would willingly show herself when the foolish men were doing such a good job of ignoring her presence.
But Avalkyra was done standing by, silent, as Cassian stole Veronyka’s loyalty and Rolan ruined Avalkyra’s carefully articulated plans.
She paused, bracing herself, then slowly lowered her hood.
Her mess of deep-red hair slid forward, practically glowing in the afternoon sun, while her braids glinted and sparked like a phoenix aflame.
“So it’s true,” Cassian said, his voice low. “Avalkyra Ashfire. It has been a long time.”
There was a ripple of reaction at his words, like a stone dropped into water. The soldiers on the balcony stiffened and stared, while whispers and mutters reverberated outward from there. Alexiya’s dark eyes bored into Avalkyra, expression unreadable, while Rolan, on the other hand, looked annoyed.
Avalkyra bristled at the informality in Cassian’s words. She lifted her chin. “When last we spoke, you called me queen.”
Cassian inclined his head—in recognition of her words, but not in a bow. “A lot has changed since then.”
Avalkyra studied him for several weighted heartbeats, then finally looked away. “I was sorry for your wife. Olanna was the last Flamesong—the end of a cherished dynasty.”
“Not the last,” Cassian corrected, gesturing to Tristan.
Avalkyra didn’t follow the movement or look Tristan’s way.
“I must admit,” Cassian continued, “I’m surprised to see you allying with a Stellan governor—and against your own kind. If I remember correctly, you would rather burn alive than make deals with empire politicians.”
Avalkyra’s nostrils flared, and she clenched her jaw. “As you said—a lot has changed. When I was a Phoenix Rider, we never backed down from a fight. We did not cower and hide.”
“I seem to recall several concealed underground hideaways…,” Cassian said.
Avalkyra scowled. “Those were bases, not hideaways—and unless you’ve forgotten, there were many, many fights….”
“I’ve had enough of this,” Rolan snapped, taking an aggressive step forward. Both groups—the soldiers surrounding Rolan and the Riders who surrounded Cassian—reacted to the movement, tension coiling muscles and hands dropping to weapons, but Rolan made no move to actually attack. “There is no walking away from this, Cassian. You are here, on empire soil, when your very existence is illegal—and an abomination.”
“I may be an enemy of the empire, but Avalkyra Ashfire is the enemy. And even if you get your war and your bride, the council won’t recognize the marriage or Veronyka’s position as heir. No one will accept you as their king. They’ll rally together and come for you, and the empire will crumble from within.”
“They’ll do whatever I tell them to do. Once the empire’s armies march into Pyra and I seize the Nest—and its coffers—I’ll be the one paying their soldiers and passing their laws. They’ll have no choice but to support me or be obliterated.”
“There will be no king of the Golden Empire unless my terms are met,” Avalkyra said sharply. She had been shuffled backward again by the soldiers, but she made sure to keep Veronyka next to her as she spoke. “Sign those papers and our deal stands.”
She said the words with conviction, but she knew the situation had already spiraled beyond that point. While she spoke to Rolan, her attention was divided, her shadow magic rushing out of her in a wave. Next to her, Veronyka squirmed, as if she sensed the powerful pulse of magic.
Rolan snorted. “Our deal?” he scoffed, fixing Avalkyra with a disdainful sneer. “I intended to march on the Nest long before you turned up—with or without a legitimate claim. Now that she’s here”—he jerked his chin at Veronyka—“I should kill you where you stand, you dark-magic witch. You wreaked havoc upon the empire for half my life, and now you expect to use my