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Well, I wasn’t worried about that untilnow. “You think someone is going to shoot at us?”

“No, but I didn’t expect someone to leap at me with a dagger in a candy shop either.”

“Are you frightened?” I try to be as even-keeled as he sounds, but my voice is hollow.

Any dry humor fades from his voice. “I’ve been attacked before. I know how to defend myself. The guards did their job, and they did it well.”

I smooth my hands along my skirts, then frown. He could havebeen killed. He could’ve been the killer. How does he go through every day like this?

I wonder if he’s regretting the way he told the guards to take the man to the Hold. I imagine the King’s Justice from a month ago might have let that blade go another inch, just to send a message. I don’t want to think so—but again, I’m afraid of the answer, so I don’t ask the question.

Corrick is studying me now, and his voice turns very careful. “I know Karri is your friend, but I don’t trust Lochlan.” He pauses. “You shouldn’t either.”

I glance at the window again, because I don’t want to meet his eyes. “Lochlan told her the same thing aboutme—in regards toyou.”

“He was very displeased with the way the meeting progressed. It could have been a trap.”

“It wasn’t a trap.”

“He wouldn’t even have to coerce Karri. She wouldn’t have to know. He just needed to get you there.” The prince’s eyes narrow. “As much as I hate him, he’s not a fool. He could have drugged your drink, made you feel a bit woozy so they’d have to help you outside—”

“Corrick.” I bring my gaze back to his. “It wasn’t a trap. He’s right to be anxious. It’s life or death for them. You remember.”

“It’s life or death for us, too.” Corrick’s eyes don’t leave mine, and his tone is unyielding. “He used you against me once before.”

When we were captured together, and Lochlan figured out that Weston Lark was truly Prince Corrick. They nearly beat him to death. I don’t want to think about that.

I don’t want to think about Lochlan using Karri against me either.

“That was different,” I say.

“Was it? How?”

He’s not challenging me, not really, but my skin feels hot and prickly. I don’t know how the whole day has gone so wrong. I scowl and frown.

After a moment, he says, “Areyoufrightened?”

I swallow, and my throat feels thick. I can’t look at him, but I nod.

“The guards will take the man to the Hold. He’ll stand trial. You weren’t his target.”

I don’t know how to respond, so I keep my gaze trained on the window.

“Or,” he says quietly, “are you frightened of me?”

I don’t answer, and he makes an aggravated noise and runs a hand over the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“Lord, Tessa, I don’t want you to besorry.” He pauses. “He was going to kill me. That was his goal.”

“I know. I heard him. I just—” I break off and hold my breath. Sometimes, I think about my position and what I’ve accomplished. I’m helping the king find a better path to medicine for the people.

But when I think about everything they’ve done wrong, I question whether I’m on the right side.

“I wasn’t going to kill him,” Corrick says. “But I had to make him think it. I had to make themallthink it.”

I hate that he mademethink it. “Why?” I whisper.