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Leaning back against the crown prince’s chest, I ride onto the castle grounds. Talan is now an invader in his own palace, and the rebellion against the king has begun.

Our little entouragecrosses into the courtyard outside Perillos, and my heart constricts. It’s not empty like usual. While we were frantically running from a basilisk, someone here was hard at work, using magic to transform the courtyard into a golden, flowering idyll.

It seems like Jasper hasn’t told anyone that the wedding was off. The poor man will probably be in hiding for years.

In the center of the courtyard, an enormous golden tent stands, bright beneath the cloudy sky. Inside the tent, banquet tables are draped with gold brocade cloths. The sweet scent of violets and musk rose drift on the breeze, mingling with the smell of roasting meat.

Fear twists inside me when I notice a columned wedding pavilion on the far side of the courtyard near the fountains. I dread what the king will do when he learns his preparations were for nothing. This is all for Arwenna—the golden tent with musicians inside, the pathways lined with primroses and sweetbriar, the ivy and honeysuckle draping the courtyard.

And here I am, a girl from California, about to turn the kingdom upside down.

Slowly, a small crowd of nobles starts to gather around us, staring. They’re here for the scandal, to gossip later that they saw the prince ride in with his whore mistress.

A servant dressed in a blue coat hurries over, blond curls framing his face. “Your Highness. The king wishes to see you. He wants you to prepare for the wedding.” His gaze flicks to me. “The countess…I, uh, think she wouldn’t like…” His voice tails off, his face going red.

A chill creeps over me. This feels a little like a nightmare of my own.

Talan swings down from the horse and brushes the dust from his cloak. Then he turns his dark gaze to me and reaches up for my waist, lifting me off the horse. Strangely, his touch seems to warm my chill, but only for a moment.

Talan turns to the servant. “What’s your name?”

“Brennus.” He looks relieved at having something simple to answer.

“Brennus, I want you to take Maponos back to the stable,” Talan says, handing over the reins. “I have an announcement to make to the court.”

Brennus nods and hurries away, leading the horse.

The great doors of the castle swing open with a loud groan, a sound that reverberates through the courtyard. Dozens of soldiers march forth, which can only mean one thing—the king is heading out to meet us.

My stomach plummets as the king exits behind the soldiers, his regal figure draped in a blue ermine-trimmed cape. A crown shines on his pale blond hair.

He is not alone. Arwenna is behind him, radiant in her wedding gown. It’s simple and elegant, and as much as I loathe the woman, she looks like absolute perfection. The midnight hues of the fabric gleam against her pale skin and white-gold hair. Her ladies-in-waiting trail behind her. In their shimmeringsilver-green gowns, they resemble a bouquet of wormwood, beautiful and likely just as bitter.

Arwenna’s withering gaze lands on me, and my hair stands on end.

She’s going to kill me, isn’t she?

CHAPTER 10

She steps forward, her body coiled with tension, as if she’s about to lunge at us. I think she wants to scream at Talan but manages to stop herself, clinging to some semblance of dignity.

With his arm looped in mine, Talan leads me closer to the king. I glance back at Nivene and Griflet. The poor cleric looks like he might panic and run right out the gates again.

As we near the king, Auberon narrows his pale eyes at me, his jaw tightening. He doesn’t realize yet that I’m more than just an irritation and an embarrassment.

I glance at Talan. An amused smile dances over his lips. “Your Majesty! And Lady Arwenna. How lovely to see the two of you this morning. Did you set all this up for my new bride? Howthoughtfulof you.”

A bored expression settles on Auberon’s face, and his gaze slides over the courtyard. “We begin in two hours. Do not be late.”

My throat is tight.Just spit it out, Talan.

Arwenna steps forward until she is level with Auberon. She stares at me, her nostrils flaring in disdain. “Will someone escortthis fetid sewage from the city? Her stench will ruin our wedding celebrations.”

I can tell she’s trying to control her voice, but it comes out loud, echoing around the courtyard. A crowd starts to gather.

I narrow my eyes at her. “I’m afraid I’m here to stay.”

Her features soften with mock sympathy. “Oh, you poor dear. Did you think you’d be welcome at court after I marry the crown prince? I’m afraid there’ll be no room for rancid whores in Perillos after today. I intend to institute a penalty for low-born wenches who attempt to consort with those above their station by lifting their skirts. I think,puterelle, you must be brutally reminded of what you are. A public penance is in order, I think, for your transgressions.”