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fortify the border between Arden and Tamron, as Gerard’s sole surviving brother, king Geoff, awaited the results of the siege of Tamron Court.
    The countryside lay eerily quiet, as if the entire realm were holding its breath.

    They couldn’t ride through the rough in the dark, so they chanced the Delphi road through northern Arden, skirting the mountains, meaning to cross the lower Spirits via Marisa pines pass.

    raisa understood that speed was of the essence. There was no point in undertaking a long, arduous, dangerous journey through Arden and Tamron only to arrive home and find that her sister Mellony had been named princess heir in her place.

    Besides, Captain Byrne wouldn’t want to spend any more 38

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    time with an angry, moody, downhearted princess than he had to.
    And he was no doubt worried about raisa’s mother, Marianna, the queen he was blood-sworn to serve and protect.

    raisa worried about her mother, too. worry squeezed her insides like a too-tight corset.

    Long days on horseback allowed far too much time for thinking. raisa’s mind traveled faster than the horses—all the way to Fellsmarch, to the fairy castle on an island in the Dyrnnewater, to her mother’s privy chamber, where plans were no doubt being laid to take away raisa’s throne.

    An image of her mother and Lord Bayar came to her—their heads together over some critical document, Marianna’s hair like pale, beaten gold of the purest kind, the High wizard’s silver and black as wood ashes.

    when raisa was at court, she and her mother been like fire and ice, each intent on changing the form and nature of the other. now raisa hoped they could complement each other, each draw on the other’s strengths, become an alloy of steel, if only her mother would give her the chance.

    Mellony couldn’t do it: she was only thirteen, and Mellony and Marianna were too much alike.

    “Mother, please,” raisa whispered. “please wait for me.” in her blackest hours, raisa knew that it was all her fault—the crisis at home, the invasion of Tamron, and what would surely happen to Amon Byrne and the other cadets when Gerard Montaigne breached the walls of Tamron Court. if not for her, edon Byrne would be home, where he belonged, looking after the queen, and Amon would be commander of his class at oden’s Ford.

    She’d lost Han Alister, too—their budding romance had been 39

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    yanked out by the roots. He was the only sweetheart she’d ever had who hadn’t any agenda beyond that of young lovers everywhere. even though they had no future together, he’d left a huge hole in her heart.

    it seemed that everything she touched turned to sand. everything she cared about slipped through her fingers.

    in her dispirited state, she closed her ears to the reasonable voice that said, You’d never have loved Han Alister if you hadn’t left the Fel s. Or gotten to know Hal ie or Talia or Pearlie. Or learned what it meant to be a soldier. If you survive, you’l be a better queen for it.

    She nurtured her anger, fed it and indulged it, because it was her best alternative to despair.

    She had to hope that Gerard Montaigne was still occupied to the west, keeping Tamron Court under siege. if the city hadn’t surrendered, the prince of Arden wouldn’t know she’d escaped.
    And as long as the city resisted, Amon would live.

    Some pieces on her mental game board were still unaccounted for—Micah Bayar and his sister Fiona, for instance. She’d last seen them on the border between Tamron and Arden, during the battle between Tamron’s brigade and Montaigne’s much larger army.
    Had they escaped as well? or had they died in the first skirmish of an undeclared war?

    raisa balled her fists inside her gloves, cranky as a badger with its foot in a trap. The Queen’s Guard learned to tiptoe around her lest they get an undeserved tongue-lashing.

    The landscape grew lovelier as they left the