memory. “It was right after her mother stripped her of her title and forced her to leave. She wasn’t allowed to take anything with her, but she desperately wanted a necklace her grandmother had gifted her before she passed.”
Ember laughed, but the sound was closer to a sob. “I remember. Mother was furious. The rules of the festival and contest state that anyone can enter—mortals, Noctis, lesser Solis, anyone. She couldn’t keep Rook from becoming a contestant.”
“And when Rook won and claimed her prize?” Surai said, her gaze fixed on some distant spot in the misty horizon. “I’ve never seen your mother so angry. I think her face turned bright purple.”
Both women burst into choking laughter, and Haven wished more than anything that Rook could have been here now to see her favorite sister and her mate as friends and allies.
“Wait,” Haven said. “What was the prize?”
Surai wiped away tears of laughter as she said, “That was the best part. The winner of the contest can choose any item from the Morgani’s closely guarded trove of ancient treasure. Rook could have picked priceless artifacts worth indescribable sums, but she chose her grandmother’s necklace, and the Morgani Queen had to let her take it.”
A rush of excitement swept through Haven. “The winner can choose . . . anything?”
“Anything,” Ember confirmed.
Haven turned to Xandrian to find him already shaking his head.
“No, Haven,” he murmured, his voice growing more insistent as he took in her grin. “I told you that information is unsubstantiated, a rumor at best. And we cannot risk everything over a rumor.”
She lifted her chin. “I think we all know the Morgani Queen isn’t waiting until after the festival to respond. None of the nations are. They’re never going to ally with us . . . not while I’m still mortal.”
Haven had always marveled at how Stolas could command the attention of a crowd without uttering a word. Now, the Shade Lord unfolded his clasped hands and leaned forward, and every gaze jerked to him. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on.”
Even though his voice held the same mannered tone as always, his dark mood came through in his lowered brows and tight mouth. Ravius abandoned the Shade Lord’s shoulder and took up a spot on the back of Haven’s chair.
She tossed the insatiable bird a wheel of white cheese bigger than his head and then met Stolas’s rapt gaze. “Xandrian found a connection to one of my mother’s stolen paintings.”
Surai gasped. “What?”
Xandrian started to protest but Haven continued, “We think the Morgani Queen unknowingly has it in her possession.” She met Ember’s startled eyes. “Have you ever seen anything that could be the stolen painting?”
“I . . . Haven, there’s hundreds of pieces of art in the palace alone, and countless more stored in the troves. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
Haven released a ragged breath. “Still, it could be there, right? And if I win the contest I could claim it?”
“Are you mad?” Xandrian asked quietly. “You are the most hunted runecaster in the realm. All of us are now, actually, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Yes, but anyone can enter the contest. And Archeron wouldn’t dare attack me while I was a guest of the Morgani Queen.” She hoped. “He’s too smart to cause an all-out war with the second most powerful nation in Solissia, even for me.”
Again, she hoped.
“And Morgryth?” Xandrian pressed. “Or are we pretending the Shade Queen no longer poses a threat because she’s been rather quiet lately? Because in my very extensive experience, when your enemy goes silent, it’s not a good thing.”
“I haven’t forgotten the Shade Queen, nor have I forgotten my father. But playing it safe today simply translates to pushing back the inevitable.” Inhaling, she swept her gaze over the table. “Without allies in Solissia, we will not survive. Does it really matter if our end comes in a few days or a few weeks?”
Ember grimaced as she stared down at her clasped fingers. “I mean, she does have a point.”
Bell shot Xandrian a sidelong glance before looking back to Haven. “I agree. In fact, if the Morgani Queen’s army is obligated to protect the contestants and their companions, I would argue we’re actually safer there.”
Xandrian flashed Bell a betrayed look.
Stolas, who had been watching quietly from the other side of the table, slid his unreadable gaze to Ember. “Is that true? Would your mother and her guard protect Haven from Archeron?”
“Anyone can enter,” Ember admitted cautiously, “and contestants are