The dining hall of Velmira’s palace was hushed, save for the faint clinking of silverware. Rosalinda sat beside King Hectus, her silence sharper than any blade. Azrakar’s absence gnawed at her, though she refused to let it show.

“I hear the people call you their goddess now,” Hectus said, his gaze fixed on her. “They sing praises of how you saved them from monsters.”

Rosalinda lifted her head, meeting his eyes with calm defiance. “That is why I came to the capital—to save ...