Chapter 47

M ove," Baron repeated. "Please."

Sarah stood firm. "I can't. Listen to me, son, your father had—"

"You don't get to call me son . Ever."

"Your father had a beautiful vision and a silver tongue. When Marcus and I first met, and for years after, he convinced me to see that future world he imagined, where you brought a voice of reason to court, where magic slowly became accepted. I was willing to wait, to work. Until I realized there wasn't time.

"Haven't you seen what's happening in the kingdom? First Corvin with his transformation, then Leon with his. Your friend Silas. Charlie Morton. Others, many others. Affiliates aren't this common; they never have been. Lettie was the tipping point—a forgotten type of Caster , Baron, think of it. In a single generation, something happened to magic within our kingdom. It runs rampant in secret, and every day it does, that secret threatens to be exposed. Lives are in danger every day . Charlie was only the first, and Clarissa saw that, so she accepted what had to be done."

"You've planned this for years," Baron realized. " You , not Widow Morton."

"I tried to convince Marcus first"—her expression hardened—"but he cared more for loyalty to his king than to his children ."

"Don't you dare speak of loyalty when you left us," Baron snapped.

"Everything I've done I did for your sakes. Marcus wanted to abide the law, no matter how horrific that law was. He let them brand his own son!"

"Not without my permission."

" Permission ? You were six !"

"And I already knew something of sacrifice. Perhaps I didn't understand the details, but Father explained his reasons to me, and he gave me a choice." Baron gestured to the cramped basement room. "Tell me—what choice did you offer me in this?"

Sarah's mouth set in a hard line.

"You say you tried to convince Father of your plan, but I doubt you gave him the full picture. Did he know the truth about you?"

"My parents sacrificed greatly to spare me a witch's mark. If I'd told anyone, even my own husband, it would have negated that sacrifice. Sometimes we must put on appearances, even when it hurts us to do so."

Baron had never before pitied his father.

Then he had another realization. Appearances. "You never burned my mother's books, did you? When you left, you took them. You used them. You're using them still."

Widow Morton's curse was a feat Baron couldn't explain because she had a resource Baron had never been able to fully study.

"Yes," Sarah admitted quietly. "Leon couldn't help bragging he'd found a secret, and once I saw the books, I realized what was possible. I had never imagined a curse could be spread not just through blood but through bloodline . I never would have thought myself capable of holding a sleeping Cast over an entire castle. Thank the realms that Patriamere held to knowledge we erased."

"I should have burned them myself." Baron trembled as he spoke. "You involved me in a plot against the king, a plot to bring down the country I love."

And he did love it, flaws and all. He could not separate the most terrible parts of his homeland from its most wonderful. He could only fight to improve it all together.

He'd learned that from his father.

"You took the one inheritance I had from my mother," Baron whispered, "and you used it against me."

"No, Baron." Sarah's voice cracked, and she clenched her jaw, resuming her firm posture. " Not against you. I've been begging you to understand. This has all been to protect you, to protect Corvin and Leon. I never ... I never would have left if not forced. But I had to act. I knew a reckless revolt would only make things worse, so I had to find allies. I had to establish protections."

"And what good have your protections done you?"

"We are ready for the day the king marches his army. With that act of aggression, no one can argue our response, and when his soldiers fall helplessly asleep in their camp, even a large force becomes easy to manage."

"This isn't right," Baron whispered.

"That's Marcus talking."

"It's me , Sarah. I see you're unable to hear anything beyond your own fears, so I will say this clearly." He drew in a breath and looked at her with steel in his eyes. "Step aside, or I will force you to."

Sarah only stood with more firmness, lifting her hands in readiness for Casting. "The princess is gone. You have to accept that. But you can protect Corvin and Leon. Your help would make all the difference in our efforts. You could help us build a kingdom where we'd all be safe."

"I don't want a kingdom without Aria."

"Then we are at an impasse. If you take a step, I'll lock you in place. Your Casting options are not nearly so harmless. Will you boil my blood?"

Baron hesitated.

Sarah softened her voice. "I know you, Baron. You have the kindest heart in the kingdom. I know you're not dangerous."

When Aria said it, he felt lifted. When Sarah said it, he felt patronized. Baron was not dangerous, not inherently; he preferred tempered reactions, diplomatic solutions.

But he could be.

"Step. Aside," he repeated.

Sound from above stopped her response—first a scream from Aria, then the loud shattering of windows.

And Baron became dangerous.