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His expression becomes serious. “I would take your pain away if I could, even if it meant giving you to Henrik. But, Clover, he’s not here. And I don’t know if he’s coming back…or how damaged he’ll be after my sister is finished with him. You need to prepare yourself for that possibility.”

My heart rails against his words, but deep down, I worry.

Slowly, I nod. “I know.”

“There’s something else.”

I widen my eyes, telling him to hurry up and finish.

“I admire your loyalty. I swear, I won’t try to destroy it. It really is your choice.”

“May I leave now?”

Lawrence smiles, sitting back regally as he mock-graciously says, “You may be excused.”

9

HENRIK

I pause in front of a statue of the late Duke Augmirian in the center of the indoor solarium, noting how much Ayan resembles his father. Auggy, on the other hand, must have taken after his mother.

When I turn, I breathe out a startled exclamation.

Hellebore stands behind me, silent as a wraith, eyes almost as black as coals. The mute High Vale handmaid has always been disconcerting, but it seems she’s been suffering an illness lately, and it’s aging her at a rapid rate. She’s terrifyingly gaunt, and her once-porcelain skin has taken on a gray pallor.

“I apologize.” I clear my throat. “I didn’t hear you come up behind me.”

She offers me a sealed letter, and I pretend to miss the way her hand trembles with sickness.

Masking my irritation at receiving the summons, I accept the note and bow my head to the woman. “Thank you, madam.”

She leaves, her expression never changing.

Already knowing what I’ll find, I rip open the letter. As expected, it’s from Camellia. Apparently, her husband is engaged in a game of dice, and she won’t be missed for several hours.

With little choice but to go to her, I walk through the water gardens. Oil-burning torches light the stone pathway. Their scented smoke is supposed to keep away insects, but it doesn’t seem to work. I swat a mosquito on my neck, cursing them and the other biting nuisances that come out in the evening.

The constant sound of running water puts me on edge, and I’m not sure I’ll ever pass a fountain without remembering my time in wretched Revalane.

Suddenly appearing beside me, Maisel asks, “Where are you going?”

I look at the gnome, growing used to her showing up whenever, and wherever, she pleases. “Camellia summoned me.”

“And you jumped, like a thrall.”

“I might as well be a thrall,” I say darkly. “As long as my sister wears the necklace, I’m at the princess’s mercy.”

“You should have killed her when you had the chance.”

I look down sharply. “What are you talking about?”

“In your room. The fool woman put a dagger to her heart, and you didn’t finish the job.”

“You were there?” I demand.

Her expression flickers with indecision. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but it seemed worse to keep quiet.”

Shame embraces me like wet marsh weeds, clinging and impossible to shrug off. The fact that anyone saw me on my knees…it’s almost unbearable.