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I know better than to protest when Lawrence opens the message, but it’s hard to resist the desire to rip it from his hands.

“Camellia doesn’t waste any time,” Lawrence says, handing me the note once he’s finished with it.

I scan it, and my stomach knots.

“It’s from Henrik,” I say for the other’s benefit. “He wants to meet me tonight.”

“It’s not from Henrik,” Lawrence snaps. “It’s from Camellia—and it’s a trap.”

“What’s she plotting?” I ask Maisel.

Lawrence answers before Maisel has a chance, “She’s hoping to humiliate me and destroy you.”

“Buthow?” I snap, growing impatient.

“She wants Henrik to coax you into a compromising position so she can catch you being unfaithful to your royal intended,” Maisel answers, glaring at Lawrence. “She wants to see you hanged.”

“Henrik would never—” I cut myself off, realizing it’s precisely as Henrik feared when we parted in Revalane. Camellia has cornered him, using Brielle to manipulate him into hurting me.

“Don’t look so dejected,” Maisel says impatiently. “He saw me. He knows you’re not going to walk into the witch’s snare blindly.”

“What if you hadn’t been there?” I say weakly.

“Don’t dwell on things that didn’t come to pass,” Denny says, but his tone is gentle. It’s unnerving.

“All right.” I crumple the message in my hands. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to go,” Lawrence says, his sharp gaze making me nervous, “and you’re going to reject him.”

It takes a moment for his words to soak in. Once they do, they chill me like freezing rain.

After I find my voice, I demand, “What’s going to keep Camellia from ordering him to kill me when she realizes her plan fell through?”

“We’ll follow you,” Lawrence assures me. “And I’ll send in someone to hide before you arrive.”

“Someone?” I ask.

Lawrence looks at Maisel. “Can you still turn into a rock?”

A swift grin crosses her face. “I can.”

* * *

Knowingwhat I must do and actually doing it are two very different things. I barely touched dinner, but my stomach churns as if I ate something that didn’t agree with me. Henrik and I are supposed to meet at the fountain in the garden, just as we did yesterday.

I wish Henrik had chosen a different place. I don’t want to taint our good memories with these painful ones. Though Maisel swears Henrik will know my words are a lie, I can’t help but worry he’ll believe, on some level, that they are true.

I wear my dark cloak, and this time, I don’t pause to smell the snowstar blooms or watch the fluttering linens on the lines. I don’t hurry, either. I walk down the pathways, each step harder than the last.

Henrik waits for me by the fountain as expected, his back turned toward me. When he hears my footsteps, he turns. “You came.”

His words are heavy, like he wishes I hadn’t.

My mouth feels cottony, and I try to swallow, knowing I must make this convincing.

Maisel is here somewhere, along with Camellia and whoever else she decided to hide in the shadows. I’m not sure where Lawrence is, but I know he’s nearby. I wouldn’t be surprised if Denny recruited our brothers to join the watch as well.

I step up to Henrik and push back my hood. Slowly, he does the same. For several moments, we stare at each other. I can’t read his face, but I see the struggle in his eyes.