If I declared myself queen, I’d start a war against the Indigo Kingdom.
“I can’t.” I looked them all in the eye, one at a time. “Not yet. Our relationship with the Indigo Kingdom is already fragile. Even more now that Meredith—” Her name caught in my throat. I took a steadying breath and tried again. “I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to fully recover from what happened at the wedding.”
“But it wasn’t your fault!” Connor pressed his mirror against his knees. “You didn’t tell the wraith boy to kill her. You didn’t want any of that to happen.”
“You’re right.” I fought to keep my voice even, but it was too late: the cracks were showing. “I didn’t want that to happen, but it did, and because the wraith boy is supposed to be under my control, I need to accept responsibility. That’s part of what it means to be a queen.”
Connor and Theresa both stared down at their knees. Carl and Kevin glared toward the closet containing the wraith boy.
“If I declare myself queen now, it will mean I’ve sided with Patrick, and that Aecor is truly at war with the Indigo Kingdom. It won’t be just the Red Militia rising against Indigo Kingdom rule. I don’t like Prince Colin controlling my kingdom any more than the rest of you, but for now I must help him calm the rebellion growing in the capital. I must announce directly to the people that the letters I sent were genuine, and that I’m working with the Indigo Kingdom to peacefully reclaim the vermillion throne.”
“You think that will be it?” Kevin asked. “That you’ll just go in and everything will be fine once you explain?”
“And you’ll accept Prince Colin’s authority?” Theresa shuddered.
“No, I don’t anticipate it will be that simple, but I hope that the reappearance of their long-lost princess will force people to listen. The wraith is already close. I need to stop the war so we can focus on bigger problems.”
“Patrick will find some way to turn this all against you.” Kevin drummed his fingers on his knee. “He’s wanted this war for years.”
“He has.” I paused next to a bookcase, the gold-foil titles gleaming in the lamplight: A History of Mirrors, The Flora of the Indigo Valley, and The One-Night War: An Indigo Kingdom Victory. “Nevertheless, I’m going to do everything in my power.”
“I don’t think this is safe,” Connor said.
It wasn’t safe. Not here. Not there. The only safe place in the world was Mirror Lake. “I know.”
“How will we communicate?” Connor asked again.
“By courier, I assume. Unless you know of a better way.”
“Magic?” His voice was small. “I just want to know you’re safe. You’ll be all alone.”
I ran my fingers across the spine of The World Poison: Magic and sighed. “I have an idea.” I headed into the study, where I found a pair of white notebooks, blank on every page. “Wake up,” I whispered. “Be the same. What is written in one will be written in the other—at the same time and in the same hand—no matter the distance.”
A wave of dizziness surged through my head, and I gripped the desk to steady myself. When it passed, I took the notebooks out to the parlor again to explain how they’d work.
I emerged from the house as cold dawn glowed over the valley. The mountains were dark with winter, and as familiar as the Ospreys’ faces. For years we’d lived in the old palace in those mountains. Now I’d be going through them, down the piedmont, and beyond. . . .
“This way, Your Highness.” Sergeant Ferris ushered me toward the carriage that would take me to Prince Colin’s convoy. The driver sat on the front seat, glaring at the pair of bay horses. “Your belongings are already stowed in the convoy wagon.”
“The wraith boy?” I was stalling. I knew his wardrobe had been taken to the convoy because I’d ordered him to cooperate—to simply accept any bruises gathered while the wardrobe shifted around him, and not react to any jeers or insults given through the crack in the door.
Sergeant Ferris motioned at the carriage. “Your Highness—”
The front door opened again and Connor threw himself outside, clad only in his bedclothes and a too-big coat. No shoes. “Wil! I caught you!” He hugged me so tightly I nearly fell over.
“Barely.” I glanced at the carriage, as though irritated and pressed for time. “I was about to leave.”
Sergeant Ferris’s disapproving frown shifted into the palest of smiles.
“I wanted to give you this.” Connor thrust his small silver mirror into my hands. “In case he turns on you.”
I gripped the tarnished piece of metal and studied his thin, earnest face. “Won’t you need it?” It was his prized possession, with stylized birds stamped into the border.
“You’ll need it more.” He offered an awkward, sideways hug.
I forced a smile. “Thank you.”
Before I could say anything else, he was back inside.