The last day I saw the prince, he told me he would bring me King Dryul’s head. He’d told me those who were responsible for my sister’s death would pay with their life. I had pulled my hair off my neck and bared it to him in response. We were the ones who took down the wards that night. We were the ones who deserved to pay. My sister, my best friend, my confidante—was dead. Because of us. I would never forgive myself, and I would never forgive him.
