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Wait. Why can’t I drag her back with me? She’s going to die anyway if she goes on living like this. If I force her to come back—

“I will slit my own throat—”

Her dark threat resurfaces in my mind, and taking a deep breath, I turn around. I walk away, leaving my heart behind with her. I’ve done what I came to do—seen her, spoken to her.

But even hours later, as the distance between us grows, as Seattle shrinks to a speck out the window of my plane, I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m making a terrible mistake.

Again.

The palace stafffall silent as I pass, eyes averted, postures stiff with formality. News of my return has spread quickly. No one asks about my mission, about whether I’ve secured Dr. Sorin’s help. The answer is written clearly in the set of my shoulders, the grimness of my expression.

Erik meets me in the entrance hall, his face tight with controlled anger. “We need to talk.”

I follow him without question, sensing this is about more than my failed recruitment of Maya. He leads me to my private study and waits for the door to close firmly behind us before speaking.

“I found the servant who was tasked with delivering the message about Maya’s mother’s death.” His voice is clipped, precise. “A young woman named Lydia, assigned to the southern wing at the time.”

“Bring her to me,” I say, struggling to keep the growl from my voice.

“She’s waiting.”

Erik opens the door to the adjoining office, gesturing to someone beyond. A slight, dark-haired girl enters, hands clasped tightly before her, eyes downcast.

“Your Majesty.” She curtsies deeply, nervously.

“Look at me,” I order gently.

She does, her face pale with fear.

“You have nothing to fear if you speak the truth,” I assure her. “Tell me about the night of Helen Sorin’s death. About the message that was supposedly delivered to me.”

She swallows visibly. “I–I was told to inform Lady Aria that there had been a fire at the cottages. That Dr. Sorin’s mother was inside.”

“Told by whom?”

“The head of security, sir. He said it was urgent, that you needed to be informed immediately, but that Lady Aria had volunteered to deliver the message herself since you were away.”

I exchange a look with Erik, whose mouth tightens into a grim line.

“And did you speak with Dr. Sorin that night?” I ask.

Lydia shakes her head slowly. “No, Sire. A palace official approached me. I told him that Lady Aria had taken the message, that she said she would make sure you knew.”

“And the next morning?”

Her face crumples slightly. “Lady Aria told me—She told me to make sure Dr. Sorin knew that you had received the message but would not be returning. That there were more important matters requiring your attention than a human woman’s death.”

The growl that escapes me makes the girl flinch. Erik places a warning hand on my arm, a silent reminder to control myself.

“Is there anything else?” I ask, forcing my voice to remain steady.

She hesitates, then speaks in a rush: “Lady Aria gave instructions that any surviving belongings of Dr. Sorin’s were to be disposed of if she left. She said that humans were fickle creatures who would not return once they’d run away.”

“You are dismissed,” Erik says before I can respond, clearly sensing my rising fury. “Thank you for your honesty.”

The girl curtsies again and flees, undoubtedly relieved to escape the tension crackling in the air.

When the door closes behind her, I give voice to the rage building inside me. “Where is she?”