Zed let out a low growl, pushing me behind him in defence as I turned my head just as a shadow approached from the forest with three shadows flanking him.

'Well, well, well," The voice I feared said, 'What do we have here?'

I moved to Zed's side, wanting to put on a front; I would not fear him. Could not let him see the fear that sank deep into my chilled bones. 'Father-' I said, but in the old language, not the one the country now spoke. I'd learnt a little from Azriel, and he'd been surprised how quickly I had learnt the language, just as I had quickly picked up Spanish.

His brows raised in surprise as he too replied in the old language, 'My daughter, you have disappointed me.'

My hands moved to my side on instinct, where once a sword had been. A sword that had been given to me by my brother. Brother. The word itself still sounded foreign to me. 'Let him go,' I said, my voice stern and thick with the accent as I spoke the old tongue.

Zed looked between us with a puzzled expression. It was one language he did not know.

'My daughter,' Prince Arkane turned to my soulfinder and spoke in a language we could all understand, 'believes that I should let you go. I'm curious, Princeling, how did you end up here? Putting your life at risk?'

'I came for my soulfinder,' Zed's voice was bitter as he intertwined our fingers, 'I wanted my fiancée back.'

'Ah young Princeling, so young and naïve,' A wicked tone made my bones feel cold and heavy. 'To think you could come and steal away my daughter, the heir to the Silvanian throne.'

'It is hardly stealing when she was not yours to begin with,' His expression was dry, irritated, and I wondered if he knew he was playing with fire. I wondered if he'd heard the tales of torture that happened in the palace.

'I think you'll find you are very wrong, Your Highness.' He took a step towards us and he smiled as I instinctively stood in front of my fiancé. 'She is my blood and belongs to my country, especially as my only heir.'

'Blood means nothing.' Bitterness swam through Zed's words.

'Blood means everything.'

'Your Highness… it's your father…' Azriel's father called out, his son on his heels. 'You and the Princess are needed back at the palace urgently.' Prince Arkane wasn't asked twice. In one swift motion, he'd grabbed my wrist and we were no longer in the oasis in the middle of a scorching desert, but my clothes stuck to me all the same. My eyes flared as I glanced around at the marble hallway we were now stood in.

'Zed…' Panic filled me as I realised he was still stood in the oasis with the guards and councilmen and…

'He will be brought back here later tonight.' My father's eyes met mine in a harsh gaze, but the redness tinging them told me he was panicked.

'Your Highness, your father is asking for you.' A servant said as he appeared in front of us. His eyes slid to me as he bowed deeply. 'For both of you.'

My father did not hesitate. He hurried along the corridor and I had little choice but to follow him, holding my long skirt so that I did not trip at the speed I was walking. My maze of hallways was easy to get lost in and I found myself in a part of the palace I'd never been in before; although the whole building was grand and stylishly decorated with archways and plants, this area was the most luxurious. A pond with fish in was centred in the middle of the hallway and there was a heavier guard presence. Yes, this was clearly the King's quarters from the golden décor that was more present than the red. Two guards opened a set of wooden double doors and Prince Arkane paused, frowning and rubbing his forehead. His face looked stressed, strained, as he glanced at me and then we stepped into the King's bedroom together.

King Caspian laid in bed, very still, and the colour of his tanned skin seemed to have lost his glow. For this King here, looked weak and unwell, as if life were being drained from him by the moment.

'You came,' His voice was hoarse, quiet and I thought back to a few days previously when he'd seemed… healthy.

'Of course we came.' My father said with a frown. 'You sent for us.'

I heard a crackle of fireworks outside and the sky flashed through the open windows, making me flinch. Happy New Year, I sent through my mind to Zed, my voice a whisper. But nothing drifted back in return.

'Sky…' The King held out his hand for me, a gesture that I certainly wasn't expecting.

'You're unwell.' I replied and he let out a soft chuckle that quickly became a cough.

'My sweet child, cancer is hardly contagious.'

I tensed at that- cancer. This was serious. I moved to his side but did not take the hand of the grandfather I did not know. The King who allowed such terrible things to happen in his kingdom.

'You have two options: embrace our culture and lifestyle and be free to roam within our country until your time comes to rule or you can be held hostage here, an imprisoned prison. But, either way, I assure you, sweet child, that you, as my granddaughter will rule this country when your father is gone.'

His words rang in my ears as I glanced down at the man leeched of colour, the man with the blue eyes I shared. 'This cancer has been eating away at my insides for just shy of a year,' He told me as my father clenched and unclenched his fists at the foot of the bed. 'It was one of the reasons I insisted your father found you as soon as he could. We sent out extra men looking for you and monitoring your mother in the hope… in the hope that she would give away your location.' Another cough, this one seeming more vicious than the previous. 'I needed to know we had an heir before I could pass onto the next life.' The man gave me a small smile, one that could be seen as wicked and then he turned his attention to his only son. 'The crown will be yours very soon, my son, and I expect you to continue our legacy.'

'Of course, father.' His voice was strained and emotion flickered on his face.

'You will not mourn me nor will the kingdom.' The voice of a leader filled the room. 'If they even sense weaknesses then rebels will strike, do you understand?'

'Of course.'

'My funeral will be grand but the celebration after will be far grander, a celebration of my life and your mother's.' He coughed again. 'What of your daughter?'

As if I were no longer even in the room…

'Her fiancé is here. Found his way to the desert.' Prince Arkane replied, formalities in place. 'What do you suppose I do with him?'

'Keep him a prisoner until we can be certain he will not be an issue.'

'No.' I pleaded but neither pairs of eyes slid to mine.

'Question him and see if there are others… if his country intends to go to war. If he wishes to return to his country, he goes single-handedly. If he chooses instead to yield, then he can stay.' This time the King's eyes moved to mine. 'Have you given yourself to him?'

My cheeks flamed. That was not a conversation I wanted to have with a father or grandfather. 'No.' I found myself saying amongst the embarrassment.

'That makes things easier should we need to separate them,' The King announced before coughing once more.

'Separate?' I choked. 'What?'

'My sweet child, your fiancé is going to have to choose between his country or his soulfinder, a decision I'm sure will be very challenging.' Another cough. 'And if you have not…' Cough. 'Given yourself to him yet fully then there are no shared powers that need…' Cough. 'Considering.'

He was talking in riddles. Messing with my head. When Zed had mentioned soulfinders he'd never mentioned that...

'I need to rest,' The King said. 'I am so very tired.'

'Yes father,' Prince Arkane bowed his head and the harsh stare he gave me made me do the same.

'Nobody is to hear about my illness.' The King said. 'Should anything happen, I died quickly. That is what you tell them. No one will know I suffered.'

'Of course.' He took my elbow and led me out of the room, the doors closing on the King behind us. 'It won't be long.' He said, his voice soft as he turned to me.

'And then… what?'

'You will be second-in-line to the throne and I will be crowned.' He stood up a bit straighter at that, his emotions sliding behind a mask as we passed some guards. 'You should be getting some sleep, my princess, and I'll see you at breakfast.'

I'd escaped to my room as quick as I could, finding my way along the maze of hallways. But despite being told to get some sleep, it escaped me. I tossed and turned in my bed until my skin was hot and drenched with sweat, my bedclothes sticking to me. When I realised sleep would not come, and the sun had risen, I took a long bath, trying to wash away the events of the previous day, but all I could think about was Zed. Was he in the palace now? Where were they holding him? Had they hurt him? Was he still alive? I dressed quickly in the cropped top and cuffed pants attire I was becoming used to and braided my hair before hurrying out of the room for answers. But on my way, I found Azriel and his father pacing towards my suite. They both dropped to their knees and bowed their heads.

'I'm sorry, Your Highness,' Azriel said, his voice soft. 'But the King is dead.'

I tried to find it, the emotion I should have found, but it was too difficult to feel sad about someone I did not know, someone who had whipped people on Christmas Day and had still insisted on my fiancé being a prisoner.

'Your father wishes to see you,' Azriel's father said to me. 'He is in his quarters.' He held out an arm that I could not ignore, 'Allow me to escort you, Your Highness.'

When I reached the room that was still unfamiliar to me, I was not surprised that it was possibly more luxuriously decorated than the room of the King. The room was decorated in golds and reds with draped fabrics over the bed, much like in my room, and far too many cushions on the silk bedspreads and across the floor, spread around tables. A chaise longue sat in the corner and the thing that surprised me the most was the piano. Sat in the corner of the room, tucked out of the way. Music was spread out on it and it was clear it had been played recently. My throat went dry.

'Do you play, my darling?' My father asked as he walked into the room. His eyes were red-rimmed as if he had been crying and he grabbed a bottle from the dresser, spilling drops into his eyes. Within moments they were brighter and all redness was gone. A disguise. I then spotted the whisky bottle and the fraction of it poured into a glass.

'Planning on just getting wasted?' I raised an eyebrow, ignoring his question and he frowned.

'We need to address the people,' He said. 'We need to tell them the King is dead.'

'And you thought getting drunk was the best way to do that?' I grabbed an empty glass and poured myself some, downing it quickly. I coughed and spluttered and the strength of the liquid. Whatever it was, it wasn't whisky. 'That's… strong.'

'Exactly,' He murmured. He turned towards the mirror and fastened the top buttons of his red and gold tunic.

'No black?'

'You heard what he said,' His voice was bitter and lifeless. 'No mourning.' He turned to face me, giving me the once over. He gave a nod and then a servant walked through the door. 'Get Princess Sky's tiara.'

'Yes Your Highness.' The servant bowed and quickly disappeared again.

'The funeral will be in two days,' He said. 'Over quickly and there will be a celebration of his life after the cremation.' He downed his drink. 'My coronation will be in four days.' He turned to me. 'You do realise now that you are next in line to the throne? That if anything should happen to me that crown is yours… this country is yours.' The servant returned with my golden tiara and Prince Arkane swiped it before moving to stand behind me. He placed it expertly on my head and his gaze met mine in the mirror. 'If you refuse the crown, this country may very well go to war and you will be responsible for people losing their lives and the rebellion we have fought against for hundreds of years. You may find our ways cruel, my child, but you must understand… people have been trying to remove the monarchy from our country for many years and if people did not fear us… did not fear our rules… then this place would be a mess.' He reached for his own crown and placed it on his head behind me. 'The country you have grown up in is not so perfect either, is it? You grew up with barely enough food to eat and hardly enough warmth to keep illness at bay and for that I blame myself. You could have lived here and been happy and healthy.'

'I was happy… Sally and Simon have always taken care of me as best as they can.'

'I know,' His eyes met mine in the mirror, 'But that should have been my job.' He placed his hands gently on the tops of my arms as he met my eyes with an intense expression, 'As the sole heir to the throne you will have a bigger role to play from now and that can be done with your fiancé, should be choose you.'

And just like that, he broke eye contact and turned away from me. I turned slowly in time to see him stand up straighter, taller, and clench his fists at his sides. Then, with a tilt of his head, I knew it was time.

Crowds were gathered in the square outside the palace by the time we reached the raised platform. Two rows of guards surrounded us from every angle, armed with swords and shields at the ready for attack if anyone dared get to close to us. I had no doubt they'd kill and ask questions later, not the other way around. I stood on the platform beside Prince Arkane, whose expression was cold, hard and focussed. Any signs of sadness were gone, swept behind a mask and I wondered if people would pay for this death, despite no one being at fault.

'Citizens of Silvania,' He said into the microphone as I stood beside him, trying to keep my expression clear. But I couldn't help but look at the thousands of people stood before us, who disappeared into the distance. Some dressed in rich, coloured, embroidered clothing, much like my own and some in tattered clothing, who looked weak and tired. I spotted a child with dark hair and a filthy face, wearing little more than tattered rags and I gulped. Despite the olive skin and dark eyes, she reminded me so much of myself as a child. 'It is with great sadness that I bring you here today.' His voice was stern, sounding far from sadness, and it brought me back to the matter at hand. 'In the early hours of the morning, King Caspian II took his final breaths and has now left us.'

Gasps and whispers shot through the crowd and some people even started sobbing. Prince Arkane, my father, paused for a moment, letting the news sink in before he continued. 'His last words to me were words of strength: he has asked us not to mourn his death but purely to celebrate his life and reign of sixty-three years and that is just what we will do. His funeral will be held two days from now and then his ashes will be laid to rest in the chapel alongside our past rulers and we will be celebrating his life with a party afterwards. I hope you will join this celebration, thank you.' A bow of the head and then it was all over. He signalled with me to step back inside the palace, but before I did so, I couldn't resist just one last look at the young girl. And this time she was staring right back at me.