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I don’t answer her, instead thanking the maid who refills my tankard.

The meal passes slowly, with too many of my thoughts consumed by the woman next to me. No matter how much I might like to, I can’t take Clover into the high mountains. Not only will it be too dangerous, but it will be uncomfortable for her.

Despite Camellia’s plea, I will have to send Clover back to Cabaranth with Simon. It’s obvious she isn’t practicing sorcery, and I will tell Camellia as much in a letter I send back.

I won’t, however, mention that I had a good view of Clover wearing little after she fell out of that blasted tree, and I didn’t see any sign of a tambrel stone.

Even though Camellia and I aren’t together, I don’t think she would particularly appreciate that.

But what if the princess is determined to convict Clover simply because the two don’t get along? Surely Lawrence would step in, but do I dare risk sending Clover back without any representation?

And what made Camellia question Clover in the first place?

I glance at the woman, wondering if I dare ask.

Yes, but not now—when we have privacy. Which means I need to get Clover alone.

“Why are you smiling to yourself?” Clover asks. “You really shouldn’t do that—people will question your sanity.”

I gesture to her plate. “Are you finished?”

“Why?” Her tone becomes mildly flirtatious, and my blood pumps a little faster. She turns to me, raising a brow. “Are we going somewhere?”

20

Clover

Henrik doesn’t tellme where he’s taking me, but he does offer his arm this time. Sensing he wants to talk to me about something personal, my heart races. What will I do if he confesses his feelings?

I meant what I told him—I’m fully prepared to live without love to attain a position where Camellia can’t touch me.

But as it stands right now, I’ve made no promises to Lawrence, and the prince has certainly made none to me. Would it be so bad to have a brief love affair with the handsome knight? Would it be so horrible to collect a few bright memories that I may cling to when life with Lawrence proves to be trying and lonely?

I almost laugh out loud. This is all assuming Henrik likes me, which still seems absurd.

But nevertheless, here we are, strolling in the cold, dark night with no particular destination.

“Are you warm enough?” Henrik asks stiffly.

I nod, feeling unusually awkward. We walk through the courtyard and past the stable, eventually leaving the guard post altogether.

Growing nervous, I laugh, “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were taking me somewhere to dispose of me.”

“I need to speak with you,” he says, glancing at me. “Privately.”

My breath catches in my chest, and I swoon a little. This is it—it’s actually happening. What am I going to do?

We stop near the bank of the Ileastra, by a small lake that has formed from the fast-moving river. A wooden dock stretches into the water, likely the place where the riverboats are loaded before they go downstream to Waterside. The cattails and long marsh grass that surround the lake are brown with the impending winter, and they rustle in the light breeze.

The two moons reflect off the surface of the lake, glistening in the dim night. Though occasional laughter or a holler can be heard from the nearby guard post, we’re very alone here.

“This is probably far enough,” Henrik says, releasing my arm. As if he must get his thoughts in order, he turns to stare at the water.

“You’ve brought me all the way out here to talk,” I say lightly after several long, chilly seconds. “Shouldn’t we…talk?”

Henrik looks back. “Tomorrow, we’ll part ways. I must continue into the mountains, and you will return to Cabaranth. You have nothing to fear—Simon will be in charge in my absence, and he’s a good man.”

Startled because I was expecting a different conversation, I cross my arms. “You’re not going alone.”