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Finally, I raise only my eyes. “My wife and I are forever grateful for your mercy that day. However, staying away from the Vale was the one thing we could not do. You of all people will understand, a home is something worth fighting for.”

Faustrius doesn’t blink, doesn’t move, as he stares down at me. His mouth is a deep, downturned frown. Then he glances up at his guard. “Leave us.”

“But Chasm Master,” one says, “they are dangerous⁠—”

“Leave us!”

Slowly, the guards shuffle away, the loud clang of the door echoing behind them.

Chasm Master. So he has kept his old title instead of choosing one befitting the throne of Winter. Not high prince, not emperor, not even lord.

Again, silence stretches between us like a fourth member.

Finally, Faustrius lets out a deep sigh and gestures absently. “Rise.” He collapses against the backrest, though his eyes are as alert as ever. “And tell me why you risked your lives and mine to come here.”

I stand and hold out a hand for Rosalina, helping her to her feet. She gives me a nod. Here goes nothing.

“You have taken care of my people,” I say. “It appears trade has continued, at least within the realm. They seem safe and fed.”

“As safe as they can be under the circumstances,” Faustrius mutters gruffly, gaze on the wall. Then he shakes his head and looks at me. “What did you expect? That I would attempt to reawaken the volcano and rule over ash and rock?”

“It was your plan not so long ago,” I say.

“What of your revenge against Thrainn, the high ruler who froze your people?” Rosalina asks. “You swore vengeance against all of Winter.”

Faustrius’s red gaze pierces straight through me, and it’s all I can do not to look away. His voice is low as he says, “It appears their high prince has paid the price many times over. Besides, there has been enough death and destruction.”

This is my chance. I take a step toward the throne. “There will be more if Sira has her way. You know this.”

“And it will come soon,” Rosalina adds. “In one week, a full moon will crest upon the Vale. When it comes to pass, Sira intends to enact a ritual that binds her life force and her magic to what remains of Castletree. Whatever arises from such a union will be nothing short of catastrophic. No one, no place in the Vale will be safe. Not for the people of Winter, not for the Elderblood.”

Faustrius stands and turns his back to us, holding on to the top of the throne. “You come here as heroes. As harbingers of valiant notions and grand ideas. But it is worthless to us. For no hero, no queen, no king, can save us.” He touches his chest, then gazes at his hand. “We weren’t just made in the dark. We walked willingly into it. And nothing can light our path now.”

“Because of the rose in Sira’s possession,” my wife says.

Faustrius looks to her. Stays quiet.

“Sira can control you with it.” Rosalina takes a step forward. “I know this. So I know you think your hands are tied. I was a thrall once too. Together, I believe we can overcome this.”

Faustrius gives a sad smile. “You know nothing of thralldom. That boy always cared for you, even in such a state.”

“That boy had the power to eliminate all seven realms and then take over worlds beyond, but he fought his fear,” I growl.

“Another hero. How wonderful,” Faustrius says. “I make the choices my people require of me. Betraying Sira would make the punishments of legend appear merciful. I’d sooner suffer a millennium of imprisonment like the Blood Prince than risk Sira’s wrath upon my people. No, there are no heroes here, I am afraid. Only survivors.”

Rosalina takes my hand. Squeezes it. Her bright, brown eyes shine with hope. I will not see that dimmed.

I take one step up the dais to where Faustrius leans against the throne. His back is still to me. I wonder if I could smite him before he could draw his weapon. By the slump in his shoulders, it seems as if he wouldn’t care.

And that’s just it. I need to make him care.

“Is it not a heroic act within itself to exist in a world so filled with darkness? When faced with such sorrow, to love and to hope and to fight for more? I truly believe there are more people like you, Faustrius, people who would lay down their vengeance for peace, than there are those who would watch our world die. We have to hold on to the belief that together, we are kinder than the malice. We are more passionate than the apathy. We are braver than the cowardice.” I take a deep breath, my voice reverberating throughout the stones that remember and seeping into the ones that don’t. “And our hearts are stronger than the despair.”

I scale the final steps and reach out to place a hand on Faustrius’s shoulder. He barely responds.

“Fight with us, Faustrius. The Elderblood and the people of Winter side by side for the first time in history. Let us chart our own course. Fight with us to save our home. And we’ll see the Elderblood back to yours.”

Faustrius shakes his head sadly. “We have no home. Not anymore.”