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“You knew Pranmore warded Camelliabeforethe wedding?”

He smiles. “That’s correct.”

Clover’s eyes flash, and she leans forward menacingly. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted to give you one last chance to change your mind.” He grins. “Besides, we needed to trap Camellia in the great hall. If we’d called the wedding off earlier in the day, she might have been able to flee.”

“You could have at least toldme,” I say to Pranmore, my tone making him wince.

“You needed to look despondent so Camellia didn’t realize something was amiss,” Lawrence says. “And congratulations—you succeeded. You looked awful.”

I rub my hand over my mouth, thinking how close I came to murdering the princess—and feeling a bit like murdering her brother.

“And what about me?” Audra asks, her clear voice commanding the room.

We all turn to the High Vale, wondering how Lawrence will weasel out of this new mess.

“You’re going to marry me,” the king says. He looks at Ayan. “You’re the heir of Ferradelle. Any objections?”

Ayan grins. “I can’t think of any.”

Audra shifts her attention to her cousin, looking like she’s having second thoughts about reuniting him with her family.

“You’re not in love with someone, are you?” Lawrence asks her. “You don’t have a stuffy commander hidden somewhere?”

She turns back to Lawrence, unamused. “No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem isI don’t like you.”

The knights stiffen, unsure how they should respond to Audra’s blatant disrespect for our king.

But Lawrence waves away their concern. Laughing, he says, “You’ll get over that. And can you think of a better way to unite our people?”

“I can, in fact,” she says. “Relinquish Ferradelle to us so we may rule it as a kingdom, and our alliance will be strong.”

Ayan grins. “I like that idea. I could be a king.” He turns to Clover. “I’d look good in a crown, right?”

“I’m not doing that,” Lawrence says blandly. “Though I applaud your diplomatic audacity.”

Audra crosses her arms, smiling in a way that makes me thankful she’s looking at Lawrence and not me.

“We will discuss it privately,” Lawrence says. “But you’ll have to come to terms with it fairly quickly. After a necessary mourning period has passed, the people will expect a wedding.”

“Who’s next in line after you, Lawrence?” she asks.

Lawrence frowns, jerking his chin toward his cousin. “Bartholomew.”

“I’ll marry him instead.” She smiles at the king, ignoring Bartholomew’s shock. “Lyredon, you don’t mind assassinating Lawrence to get him out of the way, do you?”

“You can’tsaythings like that,” Miguel protests, even though Lawrence tips his head back and laughs.

“She’s not going to kill me,” Lawrence assures his knight. “If she really wanted to, she’d have done it by now.”

As if she’s had enough, Audra rolls her eyes and leaves the room, dragging Lyredon with her. The door closes behind them slowly, and I stretch my neck, wondering how Lawrence is going to fix the mess he created for himself.

As soon as Audra’s gone, Clover turns on Lawrence. “I want to confirm I’m free of all royal obligations. No more crowns, no more ladies—no more guards?”