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I’m ready to pounce on the commander as soon as he walks into the estate, but I stop dead in my tracks when he finally steps through the door. “Maisel!”

The gnome presses her lips together as if she’s thinking very hard about something, and then she nods. “I acted rashly. It’s best ifyoukill him—I cannot take that honor from you.”

“Kill whom?” I say warily.

She jerks her head toward Henrik, who works his jaw, looking exasperated.

“I caught him creating an alliance with the she-devil princess,” Maisel says. “Heard it with my own ears. The witch claims she’ll make him king if he swears his blade to her.”

“King?” Lawrence laughs. “How does she plan to go about that?”

“She wouldn’t tell me,” Henrik answers, and then he turns to me. “She did admit to her crimes of necromancy, and she means to betray Augmirian, though she didn’t divulge details on that either.”

“King,” Lawrence muses aloud. “She thinks she can steal my crown?”

“Maybe she means to kill you,” Ayan says helpfully. “You know, get you out of the way.”

Lawrence shakes his head. “It wouldn’t work—Bartholomew is the next heir, and our third cousin is after him. Camellia can’t claim the throne because she’s female.”

“Unless she convinces your father to change the law,” Audra says.

“Exactly how would she go about that?” Bartholomew asks.

Audra shrugs.

“How does the wedding play into it?” Pranmore asks, stroking his chin.

“The wedding is a ploy to get King Algernon into Ferradelle,” Henrik says. “According to Camellia, she and Augmirian married when she first arrived.”

I stare at the commander, genuinely shocked. “Camellia actually married Auggy the Short?” I ask, aghast. “Are youcertain?”

“I have no proof, but that’s what she claimed.”

“Why did she want to see you?” Lawrence asks.

“So many reasons,” Maisel says snidely. “Not the least of which is that she wants Henrik to ‘dispose of’ Calendula. And he agreed!”

An uncomfortable hush settles over the room.

Obviously, Henrik wouldn’t kill me. I laugh at the thought, feeling a little nauseous.

“What do you mean ‘dispose of?’” Lawrence asks, his tone too even. It’s a little frightening.

Henrik looks at me before he answers Lawrence. His eyes are soft, but his face is hard. “Your sister said she knows too much. Camellia’s worried Clover will tell the king what she witnessed before Camellia can accomplish…whatever she’s hoping to accomplish.”

Since she tried to pin her blood magic crimes on me, it’s no surprise she wants me dead. But it’s still uncomfortable, and I won’t say it doesn’t sting.

What did I ever do to her to deserve such animosity? I put up with her all these years, never once slapping her as she so genuinely deserved on many occasions. I tolerated her verbal abuse; I served her when commanded.

I even delivered her stupid letter.

And now she wants tokillme? Even I don’t wish that upon her. Sure, I’ve dreamt of her father making a marriage agreement with a prince of Chelminfrior and shipping her to the kingdom’s icy wastelands.

But I didn’t hope for herdeath.

“Clover,” Henrik says, his tone that of a commander comforting a soldier and not the gentle cadence of a man consoling his love. “Are you all right?”

I snap my head up, realizing I’ve been staring at the floor…and possibly mumbling to myself.