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“Do you have any idea how they work?” I ask, deciding it’s as good a time as any to broach the subject. “A clue as to how to remove it?”

Father swears under his breath, making Brielle flinch. “I just made them. It’s a talvernum alloy, but you know that already. How would I know how magic works?”

Looking small and terrified, Brielle breaks away from me and walks forward. Father watches her from the corner of his eye, unable to bring himself to look at her directly.

She wraps her fingers over his arm, saying nothing. He clears his throat and then pats her hand roughly—as much affection as I’ve ever seen him give. Gruffly, he says, “Go now. I’m busy.”

Brielle nods and walks back to me. Her eyes are red, but she stoically holds in the tears.

“If you think of anything that might help…” I say to him. “Anything at all…”

“I’ll find you,” he grunts.

I know he doesn’t want to let us see him break. Taking pity on him, I usher Brielle out the door.

8

CLOVER

“There’s a strange rumor circling,” Calla says as she settles next to me on a bench in the indoor practice arena. It snowed last night, and most of the knights have decided to exercise inside.

There are no windows in the space, but the ice-ladened skylights let in light. With nothing better to do, I huddle under my cloak and watch Lawrence spar with the others, bored to death.

Lavender and Hyacinth immediately perk up, intrigued by Calla’s announcement, and they turn on the bench to face us.

“And what’s that?” I ask, though I’m not sure I want to know.

Calla leans in, her eyes practically sparkling. “Some people are saying you and Henrik had a fling while you were gallivanting across the kingdom.”

“Who are people?” I demand.

Calla’s eyes brighten with mischievous glee. “Hyacinth overheard Gavriel talking to Denny.”

“Don’t toss me into the fire!” Hyacinth exclaims, horrified.

I turn to face her, rolling my eyes. “I’m not going to send you to the stocks.”

“Is it true?” Lavender asks, her dark blue eyes wide. “Did you and Henrik…” She bites her lip, eagerly waiting for my reply.

They likely don’t realize they’re prodding an open wound.

It’s times like these I miss Pranmore and Bartholomew’s company. Ever since this trio has been assigned to me, I’ve seen them little.

I look away, shrugging.

“Itistrue!” Calla exclaims. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Are you in love with him?” Hyacinth whispers, her eyes dewy with what might be actual concern.

Before I can answer either of them, Lavender clutches her hands to her chest and exclaims in a loud whisper, “How romantic.”

I sit back on the bench. “Xander is doing well today. He’s bested Miguel and Lawrence with the short sword, and that’s usually one of his weaker weapons.”

“Clover,” Calla exclaims.

I look at my ladies-in-waiting, glaring. “Fine. Yes, it was romantic. Yes, I am in love with him. And I didn’t tell you, Calla, because it’spainful.”

Surprise flickers across their faces—apparently, none were prepared for an honest answer.