A winter has passed, and the wall still stands — but it is bleeding from the inside.
One lit post at a time, the watchmen of Haven are vanishing into the despised quarter and not coming back. No breach, no battle, no body — only the lovely ones: women who were nothing a fortnight ago and walk now shining and adored, grown beautiful and strong on a stolen thing. They wear their enemies. And when Kai Cinder goes into the dark to find a lost friend, the dark keeps him too — drained sip by sip into a smiling contentment, thanking the very mouth that drinks him.
To bring him back, Meira must go where no blade can follow: down to the cold bottom of the river, and of a man's soul, along the one frail, true tie the lie can never touch. The false house must burn. The painted queen must be unmasked. And the cost of standing will be counted in full.
