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He stands, meeting my eyes only briefly before he looks away like a royal coward. “I didn’t say I do. I simply believe that we shouldn’t make any rash decisions. The wedding isn’t for five months—we have time to think this through.”

My father nods as if he approves.

“In the meantime, what do the two of you expect of me?” I demand.

Lawrence looks at my father for help.

“You will behave like a princess of Caldenbauer,” Father answers. “You will dine by Lawrence’s side and join him for tactical meetings. Stroll the gardens and castle—let people see you together.”

The prince nods. “And I will make an effort to get to know your brothers and mother better.”

“Lawrence,” I say weakly, true fear making my stomach squirm.

The prince glances up, smirking in a way that’s never been unwelcome until now. “Why don’t you let Minda begin on your wedding gown? For appearances.”

Father rises. “I think this is a wise course of action. In the interim, we will focus on your coronation, Your Highness.”

Suddenly, Lawrence’s teasing expression vanishes. He nods solemnly, looking like he ate something off. “Yes.”

Father excuses himself, apparently not caring that he’s leaving me alone with a man with a highly questionable reputation.

I turn to Lawrence when the door closes, setting my hands on my hips, ready to battle.

But before I can utter one word, the prince presses his hands to my shoulders and looks me right in the eyes.

“Forgive me, Clover, but I need you. For just a few months, let me use you as a crutch. You are my dearest friend, and I cannot get through this without you. It’s selfish, I know. But I’m asking you to help me.”

The fight leaves me, and my face crumples. “That’s low.”

Lawrence tugs me in for a hug. “Is it so wrong to lean on each other for a while? I’ll offer you my shoulder, and in return, I would like to use yours.”

“What about Henrik?” I ask softly, refusing to return the embrace.

Lawrence pushes me out at arm’s length, giving me a stern look. “Henrik took a dagger to the sword arm to ensure your safety. He accepted our engagement, and he told me to take care of you. Let me make good on my promise, even if just for a little while. If Henrik returns—”

“WhenHenrik returns.”

“When Henrik returns, we will reassess our situation.”

“And if five months pass and he’s still not back? Do you expect me to marry you?”

Lawrence’s expression softens with pity. “If five months pass, and he still hasn’t returned, it’s not likely he’s coming back.”

2

HENRIK

“We had an agreement, Camellia,” Augmirian snarls. “If you’re not the heir, what good are you to me?”

“Father’s death was a mere setback in our plan,” Camellia soothes her husband. “You must trust me.”

I stand in the corner, staring at the opposite wall of the room as is expected of me. My arm is bandaged and hangs in a sling, useless. The elven court physician said it’s possible I’ll never have full use of it again, which means Lawrence has excellent aim.

He didn’t even hesitate, though I doubt maiming me was a hardship for him.

“Most of my people do not want another war,” Augmirian argues. “We must go about this cautiously. If they know what we’re planning, they’ll revolt.”

“They won’t,” Camellia coos. She places her hand on her husband’s thigh and glides it up and down, placating him. “Yes, it would have been ideal if Father hadn’t died before he signed the agreement, but we must make do with the situation we’re given.”