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I stand, leaving my father’s side as he and my mother talk to my brothers, and cross the room to meet Lawrence, Henrik, and the others.

“Why should they get to leave first?” Gruebin snarls at the king, Maisel nodding emphatically beside him. They cast scathing looks at their rivals, who are clustered around the attendants who will take them to their rooms.

Several Boermin laugh behind their tusks, eyeing the gnomes with great satisfaction.

“You could go at the same time if I didn’t fear you’d cause a brawl in the middle of the great hall,” Lawrence points out. “Again.”

Maisel rolls her eyes, averting her gaze as she runs her hand down her strawberry blonde braid and primly says, “They started it.”

“Youstarted it.”

“Well.” A smug smile flitters across her lips. “I’m sure his mother does look like a boarker.”

Several of the gnomes titter, and I close my eyes, deciding I’m too tired to deal with this. “I’m going to bed,” I announce. “I’ll see you all in the morning.”

“I’ll walk you,” Henrik says immediately, just as eager to be away as I am.

With a hidden smile, he offers me his arm. Even at this hour, he’s devastatingly handsome, and my heart skips a beat.

We leave the great hall, and my skin tingles with expectation. The visiting dignitaries have been placed in another wing of the castle, and this section is quiet at this late hour, with only the midnight guards stationed in the halls. Some patrol the walkways, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. Others are clustered in small groups, talking in the hushed tones of the hour.

Unfortunately, several have been stationed in the ladies’ wing, and though they don’t overtly watch us, I can feel their speculating gazes.

What is Clover doing with Henrik at this time of night?

Why are they together alone?

What illicit activities are they up to?

Did she leave Lawrence at the altar because she was having an affair with the commander?

The list goes on.

Henrik reluctantly releases me when we arrive at my door, his eyes darting to the closest guard. Quietly, he says, “It didn’t take nearly as long to reach your quarters as I would have liked.”

I dare to let my fingers brush against his. “I’d invite you in if I could.”

Conflicted, his wicked-fast grin becomes a grimace, and he lets out a soft groan that tugs at my heart. “Another time.”

“Act solemn,” I instruct, hoping the guards will assume we’re discussing the assembly. “How good are you at climbing?”

Henrik looks like he’s going to protest, but he can’t resist. “You’ve seen me climb, Clover.Ican even go back down without falling.”

“Funny.” I give him a wry smile. “What about picking locks? Can you do that?”

He lowers his eyebrows as he wonders what I have in mind. “What mischief are you dreaming up?”

“The fun kind.” I bite my bottom lip, teasing him. “Are you game?”

“I can’t pick a lock, Clover. I’m not a thief.”

“It might not be locked anyway.”

After waiting a few seconds, he asks, “Canyoupick locks?”

“If I tell you I can, will you assume the worst?”

He leans a shoulder against the doorframe, enjoying himself as much as I am. “Most likely.”