Isla's voice fell to a whisper.

"No… No, I was careful."

She was trembling, her skin paling to a ghostly white.

"Not careful enough," Alex said in a flat tone.

He fixed his sister with a stern gaze, only a sliver of sympathy in his sapphire eyes.

"There were whispers among the nobility for weeks—strange, baseless rumours, but when you rode through the city gates, it was like a vein was tapped."

Caf grumbled.

"A coordinated whisper campaign was launched from the Upper to Lower Districts. Well planned. Well executed."

Isla whimpered, her eyes were close to tears.

My stomach twisted.

I'd seen Isla burned to an inch of her life, yet this hurt more.

I knew why. It was because I did this. To save Isla from Lady Kateen, I traded the secret she valued more than her life.

Castille put her hands on her hips.

"Do you know whose behind it?"

"Yes," the King said, passing his gaze over each of us.

My heart leapt into my throat.

I forced myself to become still—to not blink, breathe or even sweat.

"It was the Sanctifiers."

My shoulders relaxed a fraction of an inch.

Isla slipped her golden sceptre out of her weapons belt and wrung it with both hands.

"It was that Inquisitor. She must have figured it out, but… how?"

Despite my best efforts, beads of sweat soaked into my shirt.

I made up my mind.

I would tell her—I would tell her everything. It was the least I could do, and it was best to do it as soon as possible. But not here. Not with a spy feeding Sin information.

The King sighed.

"There's no putting milk back in the udder."

Alex frowned at his father.

The King flashed a half-hearted smile.

"It was a saying I picked up during my tour of the country. I'll be honest. Part of me is glad that this secret has been revealed. It has been a burden that this family has carried for far too long. But now we need to deal with the consequences. Because of this leak, there is a fair chance our dynasty will be overthrown."

Isla made herself small, staring at the floor as she wrung her hands.

Castille crossed her arms.

"How could Isla end your family's rule? You have two trueborn heirs."

"By itself, the existence of Isla wouldn't," the King said. "Unfortunately, my position is precarious. I am not popular among the nobles. The Southern houses, led by House Sumner, undermine my rule at every turn, while the Northern houses have become disgruntled by the annual tithe and increased beastkin raids in their lands."

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"All it would take is to lose the people," Alex said, leaning back in his chair.

"And Isla could do that?"

Alex scoffed.

"You must be from the West."

Castille nodded.

"Aye, I am."

"That explains a lot."

The Prince smiled, contrasting his sarcastic tone.

"Revisionism runs deep in the Eastern Luskaine. Moral failings like infidelity are taken seriously. Take my mother, for example. When she found out about Isla, she left the capital. My brother and I haven't seen her for years."

Isla winced as if an old wound had been reopened.

The King looked away from Alex, shame creasing his face.

Castille scoffed.

"She abandoned her children over a half-sibling."

"My mother was within her rights. Father's actions were an insult to her and her house."

"And why didn't you go with her?"

Alex flashed a bitter smile.

"We're princes of Luskaine. Our place is in the capital."

His eyes shifted back to Isla. They were clinical, like a doctor diagnosing a patient.

"Isla opens us up to other criticisms. Her existence reduces our individual magical potential. During a war, that could have deadly consequences if either Bernard or I ever enter battle. And then there is the biggest criticism. If Isla is a bastard, are there more? Are Bernard and I bastards? If Father married Isla's mother, that would invalidate his marriage to my mother and make us all illegitimate heirs."

"He didn't," Caf said through clenched teeth.

Alex shrugged.

"Maybe. Maybe not, but all you need is the right rumour and enough public pressure."

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, growing more uncomfortable by the second. I didn't know my decision would lead to a potential coup.

"What do the Sanctifiers have against the royal family?" I asked.

Alex scoffed.

"That's easy. We're not their lap dogs."

The King cleared his throat.

"While the Sanctifiers have been valuable partners, we have always kept them at arm's length. We have maintained our independence, and no one in our family has joined their Guild. Other noble houses have taken a different approach. Their sons and daughters flock to the Guild for the promise of power and influence. The Sanctifiers' hope to replace us with one of their allied houses and gain complete control of our government."

My eyes bulged. I furrowed my brows, turning away from the King in shock.

The Sanctifiers were already one of the most powerful organizations in Luskaine. How much more damage would they do with control over the royal family? They could give orders to the army. They could turn every prisoner into an indentured servant and use them like slaves. It would be worse than the Dellends.

"But there is hope… And it's you, Isla."

"Me?"

Her voice was quiet—hesitant.

"Yes. You are the hero who defeated Nostrand Del, or was the story you told Caf a lie?"

"I-I would never lie to Caf."

"Good, because, by noon, that story will be on the tongues of half the bards in the city."

I turned back to the King.

"You work fast."

Alex smirked.

"Life moves fast in the capital."

The King continued.

"The bards we keep on commission will drown out the Sanctifers' whisper campaign. Between that and the death of the High Sanctifier, it should change the narrative…

He raised his hands as if holding invisible weights.

"From Isla the Bastard to Isla the Hero."

He opened his arms to take in all of us.

"The Heroes of Luskaine!"

Angelo nodded.

"Has a nice ring to it."

The King slumped back into his chair, as if the sudden movement drained him.

"Yes, it does… But we must act while we have the momentum. That's why you must leave tomorrow. Securing peace with Dahlgesh… must happen… before I die..."

Alex's expression became grim.

The King continued.

"Daughter, I asked you to prepare for the storm…"

The King wheezed, each new sentence a struggle.

"Now, the storm is here… I know… I know you never asked to be born… but I am so happy that you exist."

He smiled, and the room became brighter. Isla smiled back, wiping tears out of her eyes.

"Thank you, Father."

Alex turned to Isla.

"It's a heavy burden, Sister, but I know you can do it."

She sniffled.

"Thank you, Brother. I won't fail you."

Castille raised a tepid hand.

"I'm sorry to ruin the moment, but if we're leaving tomorrow, there's another part of the reward that we need."

The King nodded.

"I am to make you nobles… Unfortunately, that will take time."

Castille took a step forward.

"But-"

The King raised a shaking hand.

"I am aware of your situation. Granting a noble status requires time… paperwork… administration… We will begin the process, but there is a faster solution for your need… I will write a letter ordering your brother's discharge."

Castille stared at the King in shock.

"That's... That's incredible! Thank you!"

He returned the expression with a dismissive wave.

"You brought Isla home… It's the least I could do."

KNOCK! KNOCK!

We paused and turned to the solar's doors.

The King let out an exasperated sigh.

"Finally! Our secret weapon against the Sumners is here. Vincent..."

The royal guard nodded and opened the door.

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