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“And you don’t believe Lawrence is capable of such a thing?”

“You know Lawrence as well as anyone. He’s motivated by his own pleasure, and he cares little for the people around him.”

I would have agreed wholeheartedly at one time, but I’m not so quick to nod now.

“He would be happy living with the status quo,” she continues, “ignoring the animosity that is growing louder every day. Augmirian began building his war golems long before I contacted him. How else would I have known he’d be open to the marriage?”

“How did you know?”

She laughs. “If Father had employed half the spies I do, he would have been a far better king.”

“I have one more question.”

She nods regally.

“Do you truly believe placing the charmed necklaces on the necks of all the noblewomen in the dukedom will endear the High Vales to you?” I stand, unable to listen to her any longer. “If you’re serious about creating harmony amongst the people, you might consider removing their shackles.”

She inhales sharply, perhaps startled she didn’t fully win me over with her speech.

I turn back. “You can’t use force to cultivate loyalty, Camellia. People will serve you, yes, but they’ll also turn on you the moment they are freed.”

She narrows her eyes. “Is that a threat?”

I shake my head. “I know what you are capable of, and you needn’t remind me. It was merely friendly advice. That’s what you want, isn’t it? For us to be friendly again?”

Her face darkens, making her look like a petulant toddler who didn’t get her way. “I do want that.”

“Then don’t get angry every time I tell you something you don’t want to hear.”

I turn away from her, leaving her alone by the fountain.

10

CLOVER

I step into Pranmore’s quarters, waving my ladies away. “You don’t have to wait. I’ll find you later.”

Pranmore looks up from his desk by the window, smiling before turning back to his journal, waiting for me to finish my conversation.

“It’s not like you to get so many headaches.” Calla studies me, looking far too concerned.

“I’m fine,” I promise, feeling a little guilty for making them think the ailment is worse than it is. “Pranmore will take care of it.”

The three ladies stand around me like sheep, happy to follow wherever I lead—notleaving.

“You certainly weren’t this dedicated to Camellia,” I huff. “Why are you this devoted to me?”

Hyacinth laughs. “Because you’renotCamellia.”

She’s got a point.

“Really, though,” I insist. “I’ll be fine in Pranmore’s care.”

The Woodmore finally takes pity on me. He abandons his journal and joins us, giving the ladies a sincere smile. “I will escort Clover back to you when we are finished.”

Starstruck by the handsome elf, the girls all nod, and Lavender says, “Of course, Master Pranmore.”

They reluctantly leave, waving more to Pranmore than me. The moment he closes the door, I let out a loud sigh and throw myself on a chair in front of his desk.