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“I thought you were going to find me dead, and who would tell you it wasn’t your fault?” She shakes her head as if fighting off the imagined picture. “Forever, you would have blamed yourself.”

Apparently, her mind has been running just as rampant as mine.

I wrap my arm around her back, setting my cheek on top of her head as I hold her. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”

“I can’t believe you actually broke into Lord and Lady Hughey’s quarters.”

“I didn’t.” I smile. “I climbed their courtyard wall.”

She huffs out a laugh, holding me closer. “You’ve obtained my father’s permission.”

“Yes,” I say softly.

“And Lawrence has agreed.”

I stroke her hair, nodding.

Clover pulls back, looking up at me. There’s no trace of Camellia’s wickedness on her face—Pranmore made sure of it. But the scar of the night is hidden in her eyes. “We’ve taken all your steps, but we sprinted instead of strolled. Are you disappointed?”

I shake my head. “Are you?”

“I’ve already suffered through a long engagement—they’re not as appealing as they seem.”

“Don’t remind me,” I say darkly.

“So…when?” she asks, hiding a smile.

“Tomorrow, after the assembly. We’ll have a small ceremony, something intimate. Is that all right?”

She nods and presses her cheek to my chest. “Then this is the last night I must sleep alone.”

I kiss the top of her head, holding her close. “Thankfully, there’s not much of it left.”

* * *

“Your Grace,” Declan says, appearing by my side as I walk toward Lawrence’s council room, where Audra and the king will sign the official betrothal agreement in just a few minutes.

I pause, turning to my valet. “Yes?”

“Five more golems have been confiscated at the gates.”

“Here in Cabaranth?” I ask, uneasy.

Declan nods.

“Were the men transporting them arrested as well?”

“Yes, Your Grace. Three, all claiming they were hired through a message delivered by a courier.”

As is the pattern. If we follow the trail to the courier, he’ll direct us down a path that will eventually lead to a necromancer who had no idea Camellia took hold of his consciousness for a few hours and used his body to conduct her business.

If nothing else, we’ve engaged in a successful witch hunt. I’ve lost count of how many necromancers we’ve arrested. Thanks to Camellia, there are fewer murderers preying on Caldenbauer’s people.

“Thank you for informing me,” I say. “No other attacks have been reported?”

He shakes his head. “It’s been quiet.”

Far too quiet, but judging from last night’s confrontation, Camellia has turned her sights toward our inner circle. The allure of killing Clover was too much for her.