The boy looked at me. I looked back. For three years, I had prepared for Blackthorn guards, Council challenges, Camille, Alaric, Lucian. I had not prepared for a three-year-old holding a wooden horse.

Mara stopped near the courtyard door. Her hand tightened around his. Luc

Leo sat on the edge of the long sofa with his wooden horse between both hands. I sat at the other end. Mara took the chair near the door. Lucian stayed outside.

He had asked if Leo wanted him in the room. Leo had said, "No. I want to ask her." Lucian had gone pale. Then he left a

The records chamber was colder than I remembered Blackthorn being. Not physically.

The room itself was warm enough. A fire burned behind an iron grate, and the shelves smelled of paper, dust, wax, and old leather. It was the labels that made me cold. POISONING. SEVERIN