Corien knew—that his father was a marque, and Simon was too. Neither angel nor human, but with the blood of both inside them.
Suddenly, the markings hidden on Simon’s back beneath his tunic felt like flares that would alert everyone in the conquered city to where he was hiding. For years, he and his father had lived secretly in Celdaria’s capital, concealing their marked backs and their forbidden magic. They had been healers, honest and hard-working, sought out by commoners and temple magisters and even the royal family.
And now…now, Corien knew.
Simon shoved his father toward the door. “Father, move, please!”
Garver choked out, “Get away from me! He’ll find you!” He seized Simon by the collar and shoved him away.
Simon’s head smacked against the queen’s four-poster bed, and he slumped to the floor, dazed. He watched his father turn, laugh a little, clutch his head. He watched him mutter angry, foreign words in a voice that was half his and half Coriens and then run, limping, to the terrace window.
Then, with a strangled cry, Garver Randell threw himself off the queen’s tower.
Simon lurched up, grabbed the bed-curtains for support, stumbled forward, and fell. Head throbbing, fighting back the urge to be sick, he crawled across the floor to the terrace. At the railing, the mountain wind slapping his cheeks, he couldn’t bear to look down. He pressed his face against the cool stone, wrapped his arms around two posts. Someone or something was making an awful choking noise.
“Simon,” said a voice behind him.
He realized, then, that the awful noise was coming from him.
He jumped to his feet, rounding on Queen Rielle.
“You did this,” he cried. “You killed us all! You’re a monster! You’re evil!”
He tried to say more: She had betrayed everyone in the kingdom of Celdaria, everyone in the world. She was supposed to be the Sun Queen, their savior and protector. And yet she had become the Blood Queen. The Kingsbane. The Lady of Death.
But Simon’s tears blocked his voice. The wind whipping down along the mountainsides carved shivers from his skin. His small body heaved; he could hardly breathe.
He folded his arms tightly around himself, squeezing his eyes shut as the world tilted. He could not stop seeing the image of his father running out onto the terrace and flinging himself over the railing.
“Father,” he whispered, “come back, please.”
The queen settled gingerly on the settee across from him, her baby still in her arms. Her feet were bare and bloody, her nightgown soaked through with sweat.
“You’re right, you know,” said Rielle. “I did do this.”
Simon was glad the queen didn’t try to apologize. Nothing she could say would make anything better.
“I think,” Rielle continued slowly, “that he will kill her.”
Simon sniffed, wiped his mouth. His teeth chattered; he could not stop crying. “What do you mean?”
Rielle turned to look at him, her lips chapped and cracked. Once, Simon remembered, he had thought the queen beautiful.
“My daughter.” Rielle’s voice was hollow. “I think Corien will kill her. Or he’ll try to.”
Simon bit out, “He should kill you instead.”
Rielle laughed at that—and kept laughing hysterically. Simon could only stare at her in rage and horror until she brought her child to her face, nuzzled her cheek against its own. The baby cooed and sighed.
“This is how,” Rielle whispered, “you hold your child.” She made a soft, sad noise. “Audric would have loved her.”
Then the queen’s face contorted, and she cried out in pain. She clutched her baby to her stomach and doubled over, gasping.
The stone shuddered beneath Simon’s feet. The walls of the queen’s rooms shifted in and out, like they were breathing along with her.
Rielle’s skin glowed, changing, and for a terrible moment, Simon thought he could see through her flesh to the blood and bone beneath—and to the light beneath even that. She was outlined in shimmering flecks of gold, a luminous creature of sparks and embers.
Then the light faded, and Rielle was dim and human once more.
Simon’s blood roared with fear. “What was that?”
“It won’t be long now.” Rielle turned her glittering gaze up to him, and Simon recoiled. The skin around her eyes was dark and thin. “I can’t hold myself together for much longer.”
“Do you mean…you’re dying?”
“I’ve tried so hard for so long,” Rielle muttered, and then she screamed once more, went rigid. Blazing bolts of light shot out from her fingers and streaked into the night, arcing over the dark city. The light left behind charred streaks, jagged across the terrace floor.