Page 82 of Blood On His Lips

First, Renaud. The least of my enemies, and giving new meaning to that word. New, and old. If there was a greater threat to the city, I could set aside my disagreement with the Prince for as long as it took us to win the real war.

Then Nayya, whom I’d come to think had been attempting to warn me away from her son. For who else could have sent the disguised female warrior? After being in Nayya’s presence, I now recognized the lingering psychic taste of Sea Eyes.

Thirdly, and most acutely. . .the hand behind the Black Knight.

I knew so little of the Ancients. So little of. . .Juhainah. It had never seemed relevant.

Nayya had called me Juhainah’s true Heir. And like a typical High Fae, gave me just enough information while leaving a gaping chasm behind. Nora was right—my field of battle must now change. I would never lower my sabre, but with it I would learn to utilize knowledge.

For with that revelation came one clue. I couldn’t be a true Heir to an Ancient unless I had the potential to wield an Ancient’s power.

Raniel must have known. His vision ran far and deep.

I may have been dragged onto the game board as a pawn, but I would be the one left standing—as a queen.

I tugged on the rope of my tangled bond with the Prince. “Raniel. Bring me back.”