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Graces are led before us. Dragon’s teeth. They look exactly as Narcisse had. Ripped and dirtied clothing hang off their half-starved frames. Rough iron chains leave raw marks and scabbed blisters on their wrists and ankles. Their eyes are sunken and dull. Some of them are even sporting silver streaks in their matted hair.

Nausea rolls through me and I have to clench my teeth to keep from retching. What has the king done?

“Alyce has been helping me with an experiment,” the king continues, circling his prisoners with a kind of sick approval.

He’s lying. I never—but then the pieces of this awful game begin to click into place.

“That isn’t possible,” Aurora whispers. “She wouldn’t do this.”

“Really?” The king moves to the first Grace and trails one finger back and forth in front of her gaze. But the emaciated creature only stares ahead, eyes vacant and cloudy.

“As it turns out, our Dark Grace is far more talented than we first believed. She’s been cursing items for me using her Vila blood. Like this ring.” Tarkin lifts the Grace’s hand. A golden ring glints on her first finger. “It causes blindness.”

The ring I cursed for the king. Endlewild said it had been used on a nobleman, but I never thought—

“Alyce?” The distance between Aurora and me feels like an ocean. “Is that what you did?”

My tongue peels itself from the roof of my mouth. I cannot deny it. “I—yes. But it wasn’t— I didn’t mean to—”

There’s nothing I can say. I knew the king would use the items I cursed. I convinced myself that it wasn’t my fault who got hurt. But I thought he was lashing out against courtiers. Against those who deserved it. But seeing these Graces—broken and spent—it is my fault. Utterly and completely.

“You understand what she is now,” Tarkin says. “Self-serving and vindictive. I suppose the substantial gold I supplied to commission these items wasn’t enough for her. The Dark Grace wants the realm for herself. And so she used that Vila magic to trick you into falling in love so she could usurp your throne.”

“No.” Aurora backs away, merciful certainty returning to her voice. “She wanted me to rule. She was helping me break the curse. We…we tried everything.”

“And yet nothing worked. Except this convenient kiss?” Tarkin tilts his head at me. “I wonder, was she trying to help you, or merely pretending? Tell me, Aurora. Did the Dark Grace truly do everything in her power to free you from your burden?”

I feel the threads of this situation slipping out of my control, but I can’t grasp them.

Aurora doesn’t answer, but I can see her stitching together bits of memory. Each time I refused to use my blood for a healing potion or a ritual. Refused because I didn’t want to hurt her. Because I was afraid of the ancient Vila summoned by my blood. But it must look like I was biding my time. Waiting for just the right moment.

“Aurora, please.” But her lips are slack. Her arms wrapped around her middle, as if she’s holding herself together.

“Were you using me, Alyce? While you were—” She looks to the battered Graces then back to me, utterly repulsed.

“No, Aurora, I—”

Her next words slice me to pieces. “Who are you?”

“Don’t worry, my dear.” Tarkin snatches up the reins. “You won’t have to be troubled with her any longer. You will marry Prince Elias. As of yet, the court knows nothing. We will tell them the prince broke the curse with another kiss later in the evening. They will believe it.”

“It’s for the best,” the queen chimes in. She pulls Aurora farther away from me, a ship on the horizon, leaving me behind. “You remember the story I told you. About Eva. We do not want another…”

“You can’t.” Aurora’s cheeks regain a splash of fire. “I will not!”

But the king raises his hand, Briar rose signet an ominous eye.

“You will do as you are bid,” he says, low enough to be a growl. “Or you will have a tragic accident.”

The chamber thrums with his words. Even the queen looks confused. She stops mid-step. “What did you say?”

“You heard me, both of you.” The king does not waver. Does not even skip a breath. “Aurora will marry the Ryna prince. We need some reason to explain the curse breaking other than the truth. And if she does not, she will go the way of her sisters.”

Aurora extracts herself from her mother’s grasp. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Oh, but he would. We are standing in the room where Narcisse’s gift was drained. I can see her ghost flitting between us, her lips like granite and her eyes storm clouds. She is screaming at me to run. Hide from this mad Briar King.

“It amuses me how little you know.” Tarkin laughs. “See if you can wrap your mind around this: There is an edict before the small council, giving the reigning Briar King sole right to rule in Briar.”

The hall is utterly silent. I think I can hear the dust filtering through the sunbeams.

“The council will not stand for it.” The queen’s voice tears through the void. Wretched. Feral. “I am the ruler of Briar. These are my people.”

“Darling wife.” The smile on the king’s face sickens me. It’s the same one he wore at the trial. “I don’t see how this is much different from our current arrangement. You signed over most of your duties on the day we wed. This edict just cuts the last remaining strings. You’ll hardly miss it, my pet.”

Panic blooms bright in Mariel’s eyes as understanding sinks its teeth into her. She did this. Every Briar Queen who surrendered her rights to her husband did this. “They will not vote against me.” But she does not sound certain. “They will not support something in direct violation of the Etherian treaty.”

The king sighs through his nose. “Perhaps not all of them. But it’s such an interesting turn of events.” He taps his chin. “Every council member who would not support

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