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“Natural?” He smiles, and his hood shifts to reveal a shock of white hair and the palest, most unnerving blue eyes I’ve ever encountered. “Is it natural when prayers go unanswered? When the faithful call to the gods and hear only silence? Don’t worry.” His voice drops, and his tone becomes more menacing. “You’re not alone. You’re never alone. The stars watch you, my queen. And count your every breath.”

My skin crawls.

But I’ve dealt with worse than this silk-voiced, pampered zealot.

Hells, I’d rather confront him than a ballroom full of tipsy nobles any day of the week.

I straighten to my full height.

“Careful.” I don’t raise my voice, but I do sharpen it. Several townspeople swivel around to watch. “That sounded like a threat against your queen. And my dragons don’t like it when I feel threatened. Nor do I.”

The Devoted’s smile doesn’t waver. “Queens rise and fall. The gods are eternal. And I speak only truth. As Aletheia would want.”

After last night’s mangled vision, his casual mention of the Goddess of Light and Truth lands wrong. “You don’t speak for the gods.”

“No?” He tilts his head, the fluid motion reminiscent of a snake. “Then why do they grant us power? Why do they⁠—”

“You prey on people.” I inch closer, the heat of my anger warming my skin. “Why? Why do you do that?”

His smile falters, though his eyes remain alight with malice.

Just for a second, a flash of something raw and hateful shines beneath the pious veneer.

“Those who destroy magic must pay the price.” His hand reaches under his cloak, but I’m faster.

One hand catches his wrist while the other goes to his throat. Not squeezing. Just there…and uncomfortably hot.

To remind him of who holds the power here.

One flex of my magic, and I could incinerate him. Truthfully, I don’t even have to touch him to do that, but the gesture’s surely gotten his attention. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

People are definitely gawking now.

Good.

Let them witness how their queen won’t be intimidated. Even if my heart’s racing like a trapped hummingbird. Though I have no desire to burn a citizen alive.

His eyes widen, and his hand goes slack by his sides.

“Problem?” Bastian appears, his presence solid and reassuring. He doesn’t draw his weapon, but his hand rests on the hilt. “I would be more than happy to take him off your hands. Or I can remove his hands instead, if he doesn’t stop reaching for whatever is under his cloak.”

The Devoted man’s eyes flick between us. His lip curls like he’s disgusted just to be in our presence.

Or maybe it has something to do with the fact that I’m still holding him by the throat.

“No.” I release the Devoted, taking silent satisfaction in the way he flinches. “No problem. And it’s going to stay that way. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” The man holds my gaze for a heartbeat before disappearing into the crowd.

Bastian releases a low whistle.

I raise an eyebrow. “Care to enlighten me on what that means?”

His lips twitch, and his eyes sparkle. “For a minute there, I thought I was going to have to intervene.”

“Oh, please. I had him.”

“Wasn’t you I was worried about. How would we explain away Tirene’s queen burning one of the Devoted to a crisp?” Bastian tsks. “Not exactly the best way to win friends and influence people.”