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“Because you’ve tricked my father and somehow managed to drag him to Ferradelle? Let me tell you something, Camellia. That man in there doesn’t care about me. Don’t confuse our relationship. If he was fool enough to trust you, that’s on him.”

A worrisome smile spreads across the princess’s face, and she wipes away the last of her tears. “I know you and he are not close. That’s why I brought someone who is dear to you. The only someone.”

“What have you done?” I demand, feeling my pulse thrumming in my ears. There is only one person she can be referring to, but I can’t believe it.

I won’t.

As I follow her back to the palace, my anxiety spreads through my limbs like a thick, poisonous fog. We walk past elaborate water gardens and fountains, past the armory and the stable.

Once inside, we travel through several halls until we reach a grand corridor. It’s lined with tiny tables holding urns overflowing with flowers, and fire burns in sconces upon the walls.

I hold my breath as we pause in front of a door, willing myself to be wrong.

Camellia knocks, and it seems like only moments later, it swings open.

With a happy cry, a brunette-haired young woman launches herself into my arms, nearly smothering me with the collar of her lacy gown.

“Henrik!” Brielle laughs, stepping back to grin at me.

I haven’t seen my sister in a year and a half, not since she last came home to visit. At sixteen, she almost looks grown-up.

But I barely notice. My eyes latch onto the peculiar pendant she wears at her throat—a rose gold disk, with a phoenix surrounded by a knotted High Vale wreath.

In one fell swoop, Camellia has destroyed my world.

A lump forms in my throat, and I choke it back, overcome with despair.

Brielle’s blue eyes go wide as she gapes at me. “Henrik!” she says, laughing, suddenly blinking very quickly. “Stop that! If you cry, you’re going to makemecry.”

And just like that, happy tears spill over my sister’s eyes. She hugs me again, wrapping her arms around my waist like she did when she was a tiny girl. “I’ve missed you so much.”

I force myself to ask her questions about school, pretending I’m not dying. As she chatters, I meet Camellia’s eyes.

“You cannot imagine my surprise when a royal carriage pulled up to the school to collect me.” Brielle beams at me. “Everyone was in a tizzy. Are you truly becoming Princess Camellia’s personal knight?”

Camellia stands to the side, the tears of earlier forgotten, her face serene. She wears a look of content benevolence, laced with a warning. She’s trapped me. Thoroughly, completely.

And she knows it.

Father wasn’t the someone she spoke of—it was Brielle.

“It appears that way,” I answer quietly.

“I’m so happy for you,” Brielle gushes before she turns to Camellia. “Thank you for giving me this opportunity to surprise him.”

Camellia nods graciously. “I’m so happy to have had a chance to meet you. From now on, I know we will be good friends.”

Brielle grins, looking like she cannot believe her good fortune.

“Come along,” Camellia says, offering Brielle her arm. “Now that we’ve had our fun, we can all go to the celebration. Have you ever had tallonberry tarts? They’re a Ferradelle specialty.”

Brielle talks freely with Camellia, laughing like she’s found an older sister.

I walk behind them, feeling like a bull on its way to slaughter.

31

Clover