Naomi's POV

Only one can rule.

The words on Eve's drawing burned into my vision like they'd been carved there.

Seventeen children. One crowned.

And in the center-Miranda.

My daughter.

My hands trembled as I folded the drawing and slipped it into the inside pocket of my robe before I used my tears to damp the paper. I sat beside the bed, staring at both girls-sleeping peacefully. I used my hand to play with their hair and pecked them goodnighy. They were unaware of the war being waged around ...