My jaw dropped.

The Crown Prince of Luskaine in the flesh.

He wiped the sweat beading on his forehead, turning to give us a sly glance.

"Do they know?" He asked Isla.

She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the wagon bed and supplies stacked around her. Finally, her eyes settled on us, taking us in like we were unexpected guests at her door.

"Yes… Yes, they know."

The Prince raised an eyebrow, examining us with a more critical eye.

"Thank you for saving my idiot of a sister, but now we need to be discreet. Can you do that?"

We nodded our heads, still in shock at the scene unfolding in front of us.

"Who are you calling an idiot?" Isla asked.

"You, idiot. Now quiet," he whispered. "They're coming."

The Matron hurried back to the wagon and a younger, dark-haired Sister. The older woman paused at the sight of Isla stepping out of the wagon with her half-brother at her side. Isla wrapped the burnt bedsheets around her like a makeshift cloak, hiding the tattered remains of her blue dress.

The Matron frowned, a stern expression returning to her face.

"You may be a prince in your castle, Alex, but under my roof, you are a novice, and novices follow protocol."

Alex flashed his most disarming smile.

"I'm sorry, Matron. I just couldn't bear to see a young woman in pain."

The younger sister blushed, but the Matron was unfazed.

"Hmph. A kind heart makes for a soft head. If we pour all our will into one patient, we exhaust ourselves as twenty more walk through our door. The protocol is to-"

"Assess injuries, stabilize the patient and work together for healing. I know..."

The Matron tut-tutted.

"Yet, you still have much to learn."

The Crown Prince dipped his head.

"That's why I'm here... May I have a word with my patient in private?"

The Matron raised a grey eyebrow.

"To practice your bedside manner or to flirt?"

The Prince bowed lower, raising his head to grin at the Sisters.

"Why not both?"

The Matron's stony exterior cracked.

"Be quick about it."

She turned to the crowd blocked by the line of guards.

"It's going to be a long day…"

She spun on her heels and walked back to the entrance of the hospital. The dark-haired Sister gave the Prince a shy smile and followed after her.

Alex waited until they disappeared into the building before sighing and standing to his full height.

He was an inch taller than me—not that I cared.

Next to Isla, the family resemblance was obvious. He towered over her, making it hard to remember he was the younger sibling.

"Prince! My Prince! Prince Alexander!"

Alex waved to the crowd behind us, flashing a dazzling smile.

I looked over my shoulder, and my eyes went wide.

The crowd had doubled in size!

Lawrence shouted orders to the line of guards to keep the masses at bay.

"Now, let's have a look at you."

I turned back to a smiling Alex, bending down to get a better look at Dugan.

"Minor cuts and scrapes, blistered skin and severe exhaustion."

He shook Dugan's hand, his delicate fingers lost in Dugan's meaty fist. The shorter man sucked in a deep breath. He straightened, an invisible weight lifting off his shoulders.

"I can't do much about the exhaustion, but that should help."

Next, Alexander's eyes flicked to me. I fought the urge to step forward. There was a gravity behind his stare—a raw power that pulled you in like the undercurrent in a canal.

"And you... If you hadn't shouted Isla's name, I wouldn't have come. I owe you her life."

He offered his hand, and before I could think, I took it.

A wave of warmth slammed into me, rocking me back on my heels.

My burns and bruises healed in seconds, but that was the least of it. The world was brighter. The tang of smoke was sharper in the air. Every sensation was fresh, like I was experiencing it for the first time.

And as soon as it started, it was over.

The Prince stepped away, leaving me staring at my outstretched hand.

He was in front of Castille, squinting at the warped half of the Northern woman's face.

"I saved the hardest case for last. Do you mind bending down?"

Castille leaned forward, turning the disfigured half of her face to the Prince.

He touched his fingertips to the warped surface, and the contorted ridges of flesh shifted below her skin. Her right eye regrew in a mass of white jelly. Castille recoiled, standing up and working the muscles of her face.

She was healed!

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Yet, the Prince frowned.

Castille's regrown eye was milky white.

"Are you having trouble seeing?" The Prince asked.

Castille nodded.

"Aye, I'm still blind in my right eye."

Alex winced as if he were the one wounded.

"I'll need to take a second look, no pun intended."

He turned from Castille to look at the crowd behind us and the burn patients waiting off to the side.

"But the Matron is right. We have protocols for a reason. Here, take this…"

The Prince rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a gold necklace with a round medallion. He held it high over his head. A spired building above cresting waves was engraved on its surface. It was the emblem of the Luskaine royal family.

"Brave adventurers!"

The Prince's voice was loud and clear. The crowd quieted to listen.

"For all that you've done for this country, I invite you as guests to Luskaine Castle! Go with my blessing!"

He turned to Isla and draped the necklace over her head to the roaring cheers from the crowd.

I turned around to watch them.

Sparkling eyes and broad, happy smiles returned my gaze through soot-covered faces. For a moment, it was like the fire never happened.

The people loved him.

I loved him.

This had to be his Landbound ability. The same ability that made the world feel bright and new. While I understood this logically, I couldn't tell where his magic started, and my emotions ended. The Crown Prince took the charm and nobility of Victor Vangrave and cranked it up to a supernatural level.

Yet, some people were immune. Men and women in fine clothes bunched together in small clusters to whisper amongst each other.

Nobles.

Of course, they had decades of experience at closing off their hearts.

One too many of them stared at Isla, and my heart beat a little faster.

Did they know who she was?

I furrowed my brows.

Come to think of it, how did the Prince know what we did for Luskaine?

I frowned.

It had to be Reed.

She could have sent a message through the Sanctifiers' magically bound books, or even worse, she could have come back to report in person.

"Lawrence, let's go!"

The guard looked over his shoulder and nodded.

"Yes, Prince Alex!"

Alex gave us each a beaming smile before turning and walking back to the hospital. His guard barreled past us, giving us each one last suspicious look.

"He's good," I said, watching the Prince disappear through the door.

Isla sighed, running a thumb over the engraved medallion.

"He's my brother. Of course, he's good."

I stared up at the sky and laughed, taking in the white clouds through the smoky haze.

"Jacob?" Isla asked, concern in her voice.

"We did it!"

I laughed louder, more out of disbelief than joy.

"We made it back to the capital."

"We beat Rugar," Castille said. She crossed her arms, a defiant smile on her face.

"And Van Lagos," Isla said, standing a little taller.

Dugan grunted, giving me the slightest of nods.

I smiled back at him.

"Couldn't have done it without you."

Thor squealed in annoyance, pushing his head out of the back of the wagon.

"Or you, Thor."

I scratched the top of the boar's head.

"Am I invited to this love fest?" Sim said, walking from the left side of the wagon.

I let out a mock sigh.

"Thank you, Sim. You were useful."

Sim tipped his hat, more loose dirt sliding off the brim.

"Make sure you tell her that."

I frowned.

"Tell her yourself."

Sim ignored me.

"Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to find a quiet bar and forget this ever happened."

"Are you ever going to pay me back, Simon?" Castille asked.

Sim turned and walked away, waving his hat as a farewell.

"You know me, Castille. I love to keep you guessing."

We watched as he disappeared into the crowd. They gave him a wide berth, half because of his dirt-smeared clothes and half because of the smell of stale alcohol on his breath.

Castille sighed.

"I'm never getting my money back."

"Don't give up," I said. "I got a feeling we'll see him again."

"I don't know if that's good or bad," Isla said.

"Mixed bag," Dugan said.

Castille squinted at the sun and rubbed her cloudy right eye.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I want to see this castle."

# # #

The sun was close to setting when our wagon rolled up to the gatehouse of Luskaine Castle. I drove the wagon while the rest of the party rode their horses.

A portcullis blocked our path. Two towers stood on either side of the gate—a square pattern of crenels and merlons wrapped around the top of each wide tower. Behind the portcullis, two guards holding halberds and polished breastplates squinted at us through the black iron grille.

"What's you're business here?" The older of the two guards said.

Isla rode her pale horse forward, dismounting and walking up to the guards.

I raised an eyebrow. It was unlike her to take the lead.

"Hello, we're guests of the Crown Prince," Isla said. She raised the gold medallion around her neck."

The guards furrowed their brows, exchanging confused glances with each other.

"Ronnie, run and get Caf."

"Yes, sir!"

The younger, red-headed guard sprinted to the main building.

While we waited, Dugan and Castille dismounted.

"Caf? Do you mean Caf Orsini?" Castille asked.

"One and the same," the older guard said, puffing out his chest.

"Orsini? Why is that name familiar?" I asked.

"Rodrigo Orsini is the father of modern sword fighting. I've been studying his manuals since I could hold a sword."

"And Caf?"

"He's the Captain of the Royal Guard."

Our heads turned to the tall man behind the portcullis. He was broad and well muscled beneath his black gambeson. Dark, gray-streaked hair framed a tanned face with a hawk-like nose. He peered at each of us with green eyes, lingering on me and Castille before shifting to Isla.

"Are you the guests?"

"Yes," Isla said. She pulled the necklace from around her neck and fed it through the portcullis grille.

It dropped into Caf's waiting hand. He gave it a passing glance before he spoke.

"The Prince and his games... Open the gates. We will entertain his guests."

"Yes, sir!"

The guards answered in unison.

Isla stepped away as the portcullis ground open.

I let the party guide their horses through the gates. I followed behind them, snapping on the wagon's lines and driving it into a grassy courtyard.

Luskaine Castle was a sprawling complex of towers and manor houses tangled together like a rat king. The setting sun cast a golden hue over its beige stone structures. I leaned back in the broken driver's bench to take in the Castle's navy-tiled roofs and crenellation along its high walls. If they built the towers any taller, they would be kissing the clouds.

Servants in navy and gold livery emerged from the main keep to take our wagon and horses to the stables. I dismounted our vehicle while Dugan moved to the back to check on Thor.

Eventually, the courtyard was cleared except for Caf, who waited for us in the middle of the field between the main keep and the outer walls. He stood in a relaxed stance, one hand resting on the pommel of his sheathed sword. We lined up in front of him like soldiers waiting for inspection. When Dugan walked up to us with a saddlebag-free Thor, Caf's stoic face cracked into a smile.

"You've found strange companions, Isla. A Northerner, a half-elf and a man from the Flatlands with a pet boar."

Isla matched his grin.

"Luskaine is a big country. Hello, Uncle Caf. Did you miss me?"

"Very much. Welcome home, little princess. We were worried about you."

I raised an eyebrow.

Uncle Caf?

"You know about Isla?"

Caf gave me a dismissive glance.

"I'm the Captain of the Royal Guard. What do you think?"

"Who else knows?" Castille asked.

"Not many in the Castle, so I suggest you keep it to yourself."

I cocked my head.

"Speak for yourself. You just outed her in front of us."

Caf turned to me, a slight smile on his face. Something about his stare sent a shiver up my spine.

"You already knew her identity. The body rarely lies."

He spun on the balls of his feet, marching to the entrance of the Castle's keep.

I stared at his back, eyebrows furrowed.

Did the Sanctifiers speak to him, or was that some kind of Landbound ability?

Caf looked over his shoulder.

"Supper was served hours ago, but if we hurry, there will be leftovers..."

He smiled.

"I want to hear all about your adventures."

# # #

We let Isla do most of the talking as we ate in a corner of the Castle's great hall. Hearing Isla retell the story made it all the more extraordinary. She left out bitter details like Kateen's estate to focus on all that we achieved. In a little over two months, we ended a hundred-year curse, defeated an immortal king and some of the most powerful crime lords in the country. Now, we were sitting in Luskaine Castle, eating roasted lamb and fresh bread glazed with honey, a fortune in gold stored in our wagon. It was the perfect ending for a long, hard journey.

After eating, servants led us to our guest rooms. It was already late at night when I walked into a room bigger than my suite in Sin's mansion.

It was like a dream.

The higher I rose in life, the bigger my room, the more my world expanded.

Moonlight poured in from the large window on the other side of the room. A large canopy bed pressed against the right wall with its purple curtains tied to the bedposts. I walked past a smouldering fireplace on my left, threw my jacket on the bed and froze.

My head whipped to the dark corners of the room. I rushed to the window, expecting an enemy to be lurking behind the glass pane.

Nothing.

I took a shuddering breath, turning to the source of the terror running through me. I took slow steps to the head of the bed.

On the plump feather pillow was a letter sealed with the hawk's talon.

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