“Good morning Cyran.”

  Even Isadora’s voice was tired and I merely nodded as I sat down across from her. From her body language, it was difficult to tell exactly why she had come, not that I was good at reading her body language. Like Caspian, Isadora was more of a puzzle than an open book, although I had picked up on some of her habits, like how she hid her expression when she needed to keep up appearances. The dress she wore was soft violet shade, elegant but unadorned and obviously chosen for ease of movement.

  “Tritetia’s pool is being moved as we speak,” she said gently, smoothing one of the loose strands behind her ear. “It should be ready for her to use soon. I’m sure she’s quite cold.”

  “She is, I’m glad she’ll have her pool before the storm comes,” I answered, making sure to slip a hint of concern into my voice. The pool was a better solution than drowning her in more blankets. “What about Caspian? Is he… better?”

  Isadora’s mouth twitched, almost as if she’d expected me to start there and watched as she sighed heavily. She turned away, glancing out the window as she considered what she wanted to say. I didn’t try to hide my fidgeting, fighting the urge to say more; when I was ten, I had been more forgiving of Isadora treating me like a child. But now at thirteen, I didn’t appreciate how she still seemed to try and hide things from me. At least Caspian was always direct.

  “It is… going to be a while before he is better, Cyran,” Isadora finally spoke, keeping her gaze on the scenery outside instead of meeting my gaze. “He still hasn’t been able to tell me what they encountered at the border. There is… not much I can do for him right now.”

  The slight shift in Isadora’s tone caught me off guard. She almost sounded… defeated, as if she was falling apart inside not being able to help Caspian. I watched the way she sat almost deathly still, her hands relaxed in a way that felt almost too forced for her tone. She was projecting calm, but her voice gave away how she felt.

  She was afraid.

  “Isa, can I ask something?” I dropped my voice to match the somber tone of her words and she finally turned to look at me, those silver eyes gentle and tired. Now was the best time to ask, if I ever wanted a chance for Isadora to be honest with me.

  “What, Cyran?”

  “I overheard the maids saying this palace belonged to someone else, another prince older than me and Valaine,” I watched as Isadora froze as soon as I spoke, but she didn’t seem surprised. More like someone had thrown cold water on her, but she had known the bucket was coming. “But I couldn’t find anything about him.”

  “You wouldn’t. His existence and… passing are secrets only those in the palace and my parents know,” Isadora answered, relaxing her posture somewhat as she leaned back into the couch. I was surprised when she motioned me to sit beside her and I cautiously obeyed. She gently closed her eyes, leaning her head back all the way. “This must be difficult for you.”

  “Hm?”

  “You lost your birth father only three years ago, and now you are helpless while your mentor is hurt. I’m sure you also have many questions for Caspian about what you saw,” Isadora sighed, and I paused before nodding slowly. Even in my first life my father’s death has only bothered me slightly, as I was always more attached to my mother, and my attachment to Caspian was little more than mutual respect. However, if Isadora needed to believe that I looked up to Caspian to talk to me, I would let her believe that. “Hearing about my brother’s death must have you worried.”

  “A bit,” I lied, watching as Isadora nodded, keeping her eyes closed as if she was too afraid to see my expression. “They said he was erased, and they aren’t supposed to talk about him.”

  “There’s never been a rule about talking to each other, but no, they aren’t supposed to mention him outside these walls. Thorne… never turned thirteen and was never revealed publicly, so to the rest of the Empire, he never was,” Isadora’s voice broke slightly as she said his name, and I nodded, excited to finally have a name for the mystery boy. The one who had pushed Isadora away from magic, and the child I likely resembled. “He… got sick when he was young and eventually it took his life.”

  “Sick? With what?”

  “We never found out. My parents spent years looking for the cause or the cure, but nothing ever came of it.” Isadora finally opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling as she spoke, almost too soft to hear. “Now, it seems Caspian has the same thing,”

  “What?” That caught my attention as I stared at her. Isadora frowned as she looked down at me, seeming to consider if she had said too much. It was obvious she hadn’t meant for me to hear her, but now that I had, she could either try and lie or confess. She eventually relented, adjusting herself on the couch beside me.

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  “Even though Caspian told me, I sometimes forget you are just like him. You two hear everything,” Isadora chuckled, but it was a humorless sound. “Thorne… he would have times when he was normal, and then his fever would spike, causing him to bleed and lash out at everyone and everything. Afterwards, he would be so exhausted he would just sleep for days.

  “Caspian’s fever burned out a few hours ago, and he hasn’t woken up since. The priest says the symptoms are similar, so it's possible the sickness comes from Pyraxia,” she took another deep breath, but my thoughts were already racing. If Thorne and Caspian shared the same symptoms, then it meant the former prince had also been poisoned with the same substance that was killing Caspian and would kill my mother. But if he also survived years of being poisoned, he had to be a Draconid, like me and Caspian, and the mere suggestion had my head spinning.

  It wasn’t possible. If the Emperor or Empress had been a dragon, I would have felt it, and if Valaine or Isadora were Draconids, it would have been obvious. Isadora would have been a dragon by now, and Valaine was far too naive to not slip up and show off her eyes or scales. She didn’t seem to be lying about Thorne being her brother, but then was he…

  “Was… your brother like me?” The question slipped out before I could stop it, and Isadora didn’t even hesitate as she nodded, giving me a sharp look.

  “He was, and I shouldn’t have to tell you not to share that,” Despite her exhaustion, the commanding edge was back in her tone and I nodded quickly, not wanting her to stop sharing. This was the most open Isadora had ever been with me, and that meant she either finally decided I was old enough, or the situation was dire enough that she had decided I deserved to know. “He was only my half-brother, but I love him all the same. He was… so vibrant when the sickness wasn’t taking its toll.”

  We sat in silence for a moment, and I dropped my gaze to my lap. I had expected to learn why Caspian wasn’t a dragon yet, but instead, not only had I learned the name of the missing prince, he had been a Draconid like me. A Draconid prince who had been poisoned, now the Crown Prince poisoned in the same way and if Caspian died, the mother of a Draconid would also be poisoned. All in the Imperial palace, all related to dragons.

  My stomach twisted.

  “Will Caspian–”

  “No.” Isadora’s words were quick and I looked up to see her smiling gently at me. Her gaze had shifted to something more reassuring, as if she realized that all the talk of the similarities between Thorne and Caspian would unnerve me. “Caspian is resilient and a lot older than Thorne was. It will take its toll, especially since he was also injured, but the priest is certain he will come out of it just fine.”

  Except he won’t. I kept my thoughts to myself, letting Isadora hug me as she rested her chin lightly on top of my head. Her arms around me were warm but light, like she wasn’t sure if I would welcome the touch. I didn’t flinch or lean away, but I let it happen, too stunned by the weight of everything she’d just said to flinch away from it.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” she said softly, her voice brushing the top of my head before she stood. I looked up as she adjusted the sleeves of her gown and gave me a small, tired smile. “Make sure Tritetia eats something real today, not just tea and fruit.”

  “I’ll try,” I muttered, standing with her as Isadora gathered herself to leave. A part of me wanted to tell her the truth, but I knew it would be pointless. Someone who had managed to poison an Imperial child discreetly would have a solid lie in place and raising the alarm about Caspian would likely backfire in a way I couldn’t comprehend. The incident with Seymour had taught me that there were more webs in the nobility than I had ever understood, and I couldn’t risk giving the culprit an easy way out.

  Instead, I made my way back to the library, my boots tapping sharply against the floor as I moved faster with every step. My shoulder brushed the door as I pushed it open, and Yssac and Tritetia both looked up, startled by the sudden sound. I closed the door quickly, taking a moment to make sure none of my servants were nearby.

  “What did–”

  “Caspian’s not the first.” I interrupted Tritetia, not giving her a chance to speak as I stayed by the doors. I needed to make sure, now more than ever, that we weren’t overheard. “There was another child in between Isadora and Valaine, a half-brother and Draconid like me.”

  “Another one…” Yssac muttered, chewing on his pen as he considered what I was saying. “And?”

  “The Imperial family thinks it’s a sickness. Apparently it took him years to die.”

  “Smaller doses then. Likely they gave him a human dose at first, but it wasn’t enough to kill him so they kept increasing it over time,” Yssac concluded, diving back into the books. “That should make it easier to narrow down. If Caspian is to die sooner, assuming Lady Tritetia’s vision is correct, Caspian must have been given a significantly higher dose meaning–”

  “It’s the same person?” Tritetia's voice wavered as she spoke, and her gaze darted between me and Yssac. “But… how? Imperial children in Naera are hidden until they turn thirteen, and Caspian was near Pyraxia.”

  “The poison could come from Pyraxia. Isadora said Caspian still hasn’t said what he fought. If the beast’s claws or teeth were coated with the poison, it could one explain why it was attacking merchants and how it managed to kill everyone but Caspian,” I offered and Yssac froze as I mentioned the merchants. He stopped chewing his pen, and his eyes slowly lifted to meet mine, his expression darkening in a way that was different from his usual cautious curiosity. It was sharper now, like something in what I’d just said had landed too close to a thought he hadn’t wanted to voice.

  “What?” I asked, stepping away from the door.

  “That’s… more suspicious than I would like. If a beast had been coated with a poison that kills dragons, it would have died long before Caspian arrived. That’s how potent dragon’s blood is against poisons,” Yssac spoke slowly, and he slowly turned his face back to the paper. “Those merchants would have been slaughtered by a rampaging beast.”

  “Unless it was poisoned just for Caspian,” I finished, seeing the connection Yssac had made.

  “By Duke Miller.”