Rielle stood at the main doors of Baingarde, held back both by the thick lines of guards standing between her and the city, and by the immense wall of sound that battered against her.

“Blood Queen!” they cried. “Sun Queen! Rielle!”

Their cries became a clamor, an indecipherable din.

And soon, a chant arose above the rest: “Give us the queen! Give us the queen!”

“Are they talking about me?” Rielle asked Tal. “Or Genoveve?”

“I’m not sure it matters,” he replied. “I wish you would have stayed upstairs.”

“They need to see my face. They need to see I’m not afraid.”

Audric was speaking furiously with the commander of the royal army, who had been the second-in-command to Rielle’s father—Rosalin Moreau, a pale, stern-faced woman with eyes of slate and white hair cropped close to her head.

“You cannot possibly expect me to believe that hundreds of armed, trained soldiers can be overwhelmed by an unruly mob.” Audric gestured sharply at the yard. “Drive them out of here. Get them past the castle walls. Sweet saints, Rosalin, they’re nearly at the doors!”

“Do I have your permission, then, my lord prince, to use whatever force is necessary against them?” Commander Moreau asked flatly.

“I urge you not to,” Ludivine murmured at Audric’s elbow. “That will only give them more ammunition against you.”

“What would you have me do, then?”

I could slip inside their minds, Ludivine answered. I could calm them, direct enough of them away that the rest will lose their fire.

Rielle startled, for she felt not only Ludivine in her mind, but Audric as well—faint, and kept behind layers of her own thoughts and Ludivine’s. But he was there, solid and steady, his mind taut and thrumming with worry.

Are you talking to both of us at once? Rielle asked.

It seemed efficient, Ludivine replied.

Rielle shook herself. Her mind was still raw and tender in the aftermath of her dream. She wished desperately for quiet, that Ludivine would leave and take Audric with her.

I think she should do it, Audric, she said instead. Let her take control of them.

Is that what we’ll do now? He looked away from her, his thoughts in her mind terribly unhappy. We’ll use Ludivine to rob our own people of their freedom of choice when we must?

Ludivine’s presence turned impatient. Can you think of a better idea?

And then Audric’s thoughts sharpened. He turned toward Rielle, and she stepped back from him, for the expression he wore was terrible, so shocked and angry that it transformed him into someone unfamiliar. Still himself, but as if seen through a dark cloud.

He spoke quietly, so only she could hear. “You saw him tonight.”

Her stomach dropped. For a wild moment she considered lying.

He saw, Ludivine said, her panic arriving swiftly. Oh, darling, I’m sorry. I didn’t think before I connected us all.

Rielle swallowed her anger, trying to settle her spinning thoughts. “I did see him, yes. In a dream.”

“You kissed him.” Audric’s jaw worked. “Just now, I saw it in my mind.”

“Yes.”

“You were in his bed. He was touching you.”

Rielle’s breath left her. “Yes. But I didn’t want to. He forced me into his bed. He took control of my thoughts and made them real, against my wishes.”

He turned away from her, running his hand roughly through his curls.

She followed him, her throat clenching to see his eyes bright with tears. “Audric, please, you must believe me,” she choked out.

“I do believe you,” he said, but he avoided her gaze.

“My lord prince?” Commander Moreau insisted. “Your orders?”

Merovec stepped forward. “Let me speak to them. They want to be heard, and I’ll hear them. Seeing any of you will only provoke them.”

And then a sharp cry arose from out in the yard, followed by several more. The crowd scattered, their angry screams turning to cries of panic.

Rielle hurried to the door, shoving past Evyline to look outside.

Resurrectionists from the House of the Second Sun—dozens of them, clad in white and gold—stood throughout the crowd, holding blades to their own throats. Some had already fallen, blood gushing from the slits across their necks. One by one, the others followed, too quickly for anything to be done, until only one remained. A man, standing closest to Baingarde’s doors, his eyes wild. He held a golden scepter in his right hand—its polished shaft glinting in the torchlight, a gleaming, sun-shaped medallion capping the top.

The man caught Rielle’s eyes and then, grinning, called out to her, “As you have done for our queen, so we beg you to now do for us. As you promised us, Sun Queen. As you promised, our beloved God and savior!”

Rielle rushed forward, but Evyline caught her firmly around her waist.

“Lu, stop him!” she cried over her shoulder.

But he had already drawn his own little blade across his throat. He fell first to his knees and then forward, the scepter clattering across the stone. And the sight of him lying there, choking on his own death, blood pooling beneath his body, shattered what calm Rielle had managed to gather.

She flung herself against the vise of Evyline’s arms, screaming and sobbing—for the man’s death, for the bodies staining the yard red and the thousands of others trampling each other to get away, back out the gates, back to the streets. And she sobbed for herself, furious and exhausted. She beat on Evyline’s arms, and when she would not let her go, she dug deep into her gut, into her palms and the hot turns of her feet, and shoved them all away—Evyline, her Sun Guard, Merovec, the dozens of guards streaming in and out of the doors.

Audric had expected it. He caught Ludivine, and they steadied each other, only stumbling while the others fell.

“And this is allowed?” Merovec pushed himself back to his feet. He flung an arm out at Rielle. “This temper? This unpredictability? You’re all fools.” He pointed at Audric. “You’re the worst of them all. Can you not see what’s happening? She has poisoned you first, and soon it will spread to the rest of us.”

Ludivine caught his arm, talking too softly for Rielle to hear, but soon Merovec had subsided, his expression slightly bewildered, like that of a child waking from sleep. Together they hurried away. Merovec’s guards followed, frowning in obvious confusion.

Audric stared after them. Then he glanced at Commander Moreau. “I want that yard empty and clean within the hour. I want the streets of this city restored to order within two.”