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her and Eira gladly fell behind. She laced her fingers, watching as Marcus gave his friend a firm pat on the shoulder, exchanging pleasantries.

Cullen, the Prince of the Tower, as the ladies called him. He looked the part in all his fine court clothes. His hair was a deep brown, so dark that in the fading light it nearly looked black. But Eira knew from a past excursion she had been forced on that, when the sun hit it, there were strands that glowed almost as gold as her brother’s hair. Cullen’s eyes were a hazel sunset color—piercing, almost uncomfortably bright, like hers. Eyes that now turned to her.

“You brought your sister.” Cullen’s expression fell, the warmth leaving it.

“I can go,” Eira said easily. “In fact—”

“In fact it’s our weekly dinner tonight,” Marcus interjected. “You won’t mind if she eats with us, will you?”

“Not at all,” Cullen said with the grace one would expect of someone who’d received finishing lessons. The smile he forced objected.

Unwanted Eira. The ice wraith of the Tower. Sorcerer colder than winter. Eira was so busy beating herself up that she nearly missed the whispers.

…you and I…

…sure it’s safe…

The second voice belonged to the icy woman she’d heard earlier. The same woman who had occupied, or at least passed through, the mysterious room she’d found. The same woman who had spoken of killing the emperor. Eira turned her head, looking toward the wall where the whispers seemed to come from. She hadn’t heard the voice ever before, and now the woman was haunting her.

“What is it?” Marcus asked, a worried note seeping into his tone. He whispered, “Is it the voices?”

“It’s nothing,” Eira said quickly. “Nothing. Sorry, I thought of something I have to do, that’s all. I should—” Eira was interrupted once more, this time by the empress.

“Cullen.” Empress Vhalla Solaris crossed over to them. Her brown hair had been carefully coiled and pulled into braids that framed a golden circlet around her brow. One would expect an empress to be lofty and off-putting. But Eira found her more approachable than Cullen. “Are these your friends?”

“Yes, Marcus is a very good friend.” Cullen motioned to her brother. Eira took half a step back, as if she could become one with the shadow and fade away. She didn’t miss that he purposefully didn’t mention her.

“It’s good to meet you, Marcus,” the empress said kindly.

“Your Majesty.” Marcus sank into a low bow. “I apologize for the interruption.”

“Not an interruption at all.” The empress’s eyes promptly turned to Eira. “And you are?”

“Eira, Your Majesty.” She kept her eyes on her toes as she pinched her dress with three fingers and curtsied. Or, at least did her best approximation of a curtsy. Marcus seemed so natural among them. He was born for this. She was…a continual liability to his aspirations. What could her brother achieve if he wasn’t saddled with her?

Eira hated the question, but she hated the answer even more.

“A pleasure to meet you both,” the empress said politely, and promptly turned to Cullen. “You need to be better about not telegraphing your attacks. That’s how Gregor got in so many surprise hits to you today.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Cullen nodded.

Despite her scolding tone, the empress smiled with what Eira would dare say was fondness. “You remind me of myself. I had the hardest time with telegraphing, too. It’s natural, after all. We want to flow with the air.”

“I will do better,” Cullen vowed, nonetheless.

“I know you will. Now, if you will all—”

Horns echoed over Solarin.

All of them paused, holding their breath. Horns blared for two things and two things only. The first was war. But Solaris had been in peacetime for over twenty years. The second…was for the royal family.

“Vi.” Vhalla whispered the name of her eldest daughter, completely forgetting herself. Eira watched as the empress’s royal facade crumbled and a mother’s adoration shone through. Vi Solaris, admiral of the Solaris armada and crown princess, had been gone now for almost two years. “Please excuse me,” she said hastily and started across the training grounds, meeting guards already emerging from the castle.

Cullen placed his hands in his pockets, a thoughtful and unreadable expression on his severe features. “We should go to the Sunlit Stage; it seems the crown princess has finally returned from the brutal lands of Meru.”

3

“Meru isn’t a brutal place.” The words sprung from Eira’s lips before she could think better of them.

“What?” Cullen seemed startled that she was still there. “Oh, that’s right, you’re the one who’s obsessed with the Crescent Continent, aren’t you?”

“It’s called Meru,” Eira murmured, reminding him even though he’d just used its proper name.

“Let’s just go to the Sunlit Stage,” Marcus suggested. Her big brother saving her did have its perks. Marcus knew every topic Eira wanted to avoid and usually used that power for good. It was only a terrible ability when he was the one pestering her about said topic. “The crown princess hasn’t been home since the announcement of the engagement.”

“And what an announcement that was,” Cullen said with a shake of his head. “I can’t believe our princess will wed one of those pointy-eared folk.”

Eira remembered that night. It was the only time she and her brother had been permitted to a state function. Their uncles had brought them to a winter ball where the crown princess had announced her engagement.

“They’re called elfin.” She couldn’t stop herself from pointing out Cullen’s mistakes.

Cullen glanced over his shoulder at her. “Are you going to correct me at every turn?”

“If you keep being wrong then it’s my burden to bear.”

“Such tact.” An unkind smile spread on his lips. “I would love to see you for a day at the royal court. It would certainly be a sight to watch.”

“Keep your courts, I don’t care for them.”

“I suspect the feeling would be mutual.”

Eira glared.

“Be nice,” Marcus said with a note of combined warning and scolding to both of them. “Don’t talk to or about my little

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