“What happened?” Leralynn’s voice sounded behind River, piercing his chest. “River?”

For a moment, her voice was all he could hear, the echo of his name on her lips gripping his spine. He didn’t dare turn. Not when he knew that the sight of her on Tye’s lap would tear him in two. The sight of both of them.

The glance he’d caught of Leralynn when Tye had carried the female in was enough to reveal puffy eyes and trembling muscles. If the morning was anything like what he’d heard about flex training regimens, the girl had spent hours in agony. As for Tye . . . River’s jaw clenched. He didn’t know exactly what had happened in Tye’s past, why the top athlete in all of Lunos turned into a petty criminal the night before competing for the Realm Championship title. But Tye never spoke of it and his reaction to Klarissa’s note made clear that the centuries since that day hadn’t healed the wounds. From the haunted look in the male’s eyes, the desperate way he held Lera, River knew those wounds now bled.

All of it because River had said no to Klarissa. Because if she could not convince River to take the Slait throne in the name of glory, she’d come at it a different way. If he was refusing power, the female would show him exactly what powerless felt like. River flexed his fingers, using the action to anchor himself to the present reality. And in that reality, Autumn was on a warpath.

River would face the qoru over his sister any day.

Checking his voice, he kept his eyes on Autumn as he answered Leralynn’s question. “Kora’s quint now has less than twenty-four hours to return to the Citadel,” he said evenly. “And my sister believes that Kora has been set up. That Kora’s trial was designed to force us into action.”

“It isn’t just my opinion, River.” Autumn crossed her slender arms, the tips of her too-many braids swaying about. “Klarissa all but confirmed it. Or do you imagine it a coincidence that Kora’s quint was sent to Karnish, the exact location you refused to go? That the council is suddenly willing to stretch the rules so that you can go to Karnish and see firsthand the havoc that Jawrar’s Night Guard is wreaking?”

“It doesn’t sound like a coincidence,” Coal said, brushing the back of his head warily. “It sounds like an ambush.”

“If the council admits that Kora is likely in trouble and they are willing to send someone to aid, why not have a full quint go?” Leralynn asked, forcing River to turn to where Tye held her against him. The male’s large hand stroked her thigh with a familiar tenderness that made River’s fist tighten in jealousy even as his cock twitched. Leralynn’s eyes found River’s, her brown gaze suspicious. “It would seem the more prudent approach.”

A punch of guilt struck River’s gut. Lying to the girl, even by omission, was like dripping poison into his own blood. But he was making the best of bad choices. Leralynn wouldn’t understand the trap of Klarissa’s demand, the danger that any action against Griorgi would pose to her, without also understanding the history of the king of Slait. And that—the story of how River followed Klarissa’s songs of glory until he got his mother murdered—he was not ready to speak of. Even if it made him the coward that Autumn named him.

Autumn’s gaze shifted to the girl, making River’s spine snap straight. “If saving Kora’s life were the goal, then yes,” she said bluntly. “But it isn’t. The goal is to make River go to Karnish.”

Cold silence filled the room, the only sounds coming from the scrape of Tye’s calloused hand along the fabric of Leralynn’s pants. River’s breath stuttered, the questions racing through the girl’s eyes spurring his heart into a gallop. A trap. A perfect, stars-damned trap.

River crossed his arms and stepped between Leralynn and his sister, waiting until the latter met his eyes. “You want me to take Leralynn into a Blaze region violent enough to have put a trained quint in mortal danger?” He spoke quietly, slowly, making sure Autumn caught every word.

“You have three hundred years of training, River,” Autumn shot back, undeterred. “And Kora has hours to live. I’m asking a warrior of the Citadel to save her life. And you are telling me no because it’s too dangerous? Who the hell are you, River? Because you’re sure as hell not my brother.”

“Don’t you dare.” River slapped the wall, halting Autumn as she began to turn away. “Don’t you dare fault me for trying to keep Leralynn safe.”

“You think I’m unaware of what I’m asking?” Autumn said, her voice soft. “That I haven’t already thought of all the alternatives beneath the stars.”

River drew a deep breath, reminding himself that Autumn didn’t know—not really—what it felt like to be responsible for others’ deaths. Yes, she grieved for their mother, but it was River who woke up to phantom screams, knowing himself culpable for the murder. Just as he’d been culpable for the death of Shade’s twin.

If Autumn knew what that felt like, she’d not be asking him to barter Leralynn’s life. His own, yes. But not the girl’s.

“I want to go,” Leralynn said into the silence. “I want to help.”

Of course she did. She always wanted to help, bloody reality be damned. River rubbed a hand over his face.

“River?” Leralynn’s voice, so close to him, made him turn. She was pale and standing on wobbly legs, the scent of fear clinging to her neck strong enough to make his fists clench at his sides. Swallowing, she forced up her chin, her warm brown eyes meeting his. “I promised Autumn that if there was anything in my power that could help Kora, I would do it. There were many years where my word was all I had. Please don’t make me into a liar.”