I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean?”
She folded her hands neatly on the table, her fingers trembling slightly in the candlelight. “For generations, the Eastern court has been divided.”
“Divided?” The word tasted bitter on my tongue, thick with unease.
She nodded, slow and deliberate. “There were always two factions.” She counted them on her fingers, her expression grim. “The loyalists, who followed the royal bloodline of Queen Althea. And the power-seekers, who believed the throne should belong to whoever had the strength to seize it.”
My stomach knotted so tightly it felt as if my ribs would c***k. “My step-grandmother.”
“Yes.” Her voice grew colder, sharp as obsidian. “She feared the magic within our bloodline.”
I leaned forward, the lantern casting harsh, flickering angles acro
