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“Who is this girl in your mind? Are you so weak?”

“No, Regia. She is no one.”

“You conceal something.”

“No. All my secrets are yours, Regia.”

“You are mine. Every drop of blood in your veins, every last thought in your head, everything you are belongs to me. You were born for me, as will be your future children. Have you forgotten?”

“N-no.”

“You cannot fight me, child.”

Dalca screams, and I press a shaking hand over my mouth. Casvian stares down into the throne room, doing nothing, saying nothing.

Dalca relaxes suddenly.

A soft keening comes from the Regia. She’s limp against the golden bone chair, head sagging, limbs shaking. “This weak body... cannot hold me for much longer.”

Dalca drags himself up onto all fours and spits. Blood spatters across a dozen tiny mirrors.

“The Trial must go on. The people must love us. That is your duty.”

“Yes, Regia,” Dalca says as he gets to his feet and bows.

Casvian touches my shoulder and nods at the door. We retreat.

I expect him to lead me back to my alarmingly comfortable prison, but instead Casvian stops at the garden.

“That is what he faces.”

It’s sickening and horrifying, and I understand better the fear that drives Dalca. I understand why he risks a thousand small evils.

“It’s awful,” I say.

“One day—one day soon—he’ll havethatinside him. Before that happens, we—he and I—have to fix what’s broken.”

Dalca’s words come back to me.Anything can be fixed.Now I get why he holds on to that idea so strongly.

“I don’t know why Dalca thinks you can help. You haven’t done anything but muddle his head and make it harder.”

I fear it’s not a good time to bring up Pa and my wanting to save him.

“If you care about the city—if you care about Dalca—you should leave.”

I bite my lip. “My father—”

“Yourfatheris the reason I don’t have a mother.” He holds up a hand to silence me. “And my father is the reason your home—your friends—were taken from you. Frankly, yours deserves what he gets, and mine probably does too. But I’m not here to talk about fathers.”

Well, I care about Pa not dying. But ever since seeing this city from above—how small and fragile it seemed—I care about saving it, too.

“You said—Dalca thinks I can help.”

Cas frowns. “If you can, do it.”

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