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“Don’t worry, she can only hear what I permit through the portal,” Lisinder says.

Ruskin nods.

“In that case, I’d say that hers may seem like a persuasive proposal, Your Majesty, but if I could have a moment alone with you, I think there’s a piece of the picture you’ll find more compelling.”

I stare at him, wondering what on earth he’s talking about.

Lisinder considers this, glancing at Evanthe’s expectant face in the pool.

“Very well,” he says and lifts his hand to re-establish the connection. “My lady, if you’ll excuse me just a moment while I consult with my kin.” She nods, the very picture of a gracious head of state. It chills me to the bone. Then Lisinder waves his hand, and her picture is gone in a swirl of ripples.

Ruskin looks to Destan, meeting his eyes while nodding towards me, and our friend draws nearer. Apparently, it’s a silent instruction to watch over me, and though I know I can defend myself just as well as Destan these days, I understand that Ruskin is reluctant to leave me out here among a bunch of Unseelie who may or may not want to throw me to Evanthe.

Lisinder leads Ruskin out of the chamber, and I’m both curious and frustrated as I try to figure out what move Ruskin’s about to make. The Unseelie seem to feel the same. I notice Lady Flardryn turning to her companion with an annoyed expression. I suppose that in Unseelie, you’re expected to address things out in the open.

We wait in the chamber, two minutes, then five. Destan coughs and sidles up to me. I wonder if my anxiety is written on my face as plainly as his.

“What is he doing?” he whispers, glancing sideways at our audience.

“I don’t know,” I murmur back. He looks even more distressed by that answer.

“Whatever it is, we better hope it works and that he doesn’t…” He glances around us again. “…forget to mention anything important.”

Right, because now would definitely not be the time for Lisinder to discover we’ve been hiding Ruskin’s condition from him. We need everything stacked in our favor, and I get the feeling Lisinder isn’t the type to appreciate secrets.

We get a bit of relief when they return and Lisinder’s face looks mostly neutral. Hopefully Ruskin hasn’t managed to piss him off. I’m reminded of the family resemblance now, the two men, both looking stoic and strong as they stride across the cavern floor.

“I have decided,” Lisinder says to his subjects. “Lady Evanthe may lay claim to the Seelie Court, but she is not its rightful ruler, and therefore I will not fulfill her request.”

As Ruskin returns to my side, I begin to understand what must have passed between the two. I notice that Lisinder is no longer calling Evanthe queen.

“But, my Lord—” Lady Flardryn begins to protest.

Lisinder holds up a hand. “I have considered the facts, and this is my decision. Moreover—we Unseelie are not cowards to take a route simply because it is easiest. I do not make this decision lightly. We may still hope for a peaceful outcome, but if peace is not the fate that awaits us, I know we will face whatever comes with valor.”

I look at Ruskin, he meets my gaze, and I know we’re both thinking that peace probably doesn’t lie ahead for any of us—or at least, not any time soon. If Lisinder knew that too, would he back us now? I like to think he still would, but either way, we can’t prove the scale of Evanthe’s cruelty and bloodlust to Lisinder even if we wanted to. He has to discover it for himself.

He waves his hand at the pool and the water churns, until Evanthe’s face appears again in its surface.

“My lady, I have considered your request, but I’m afraid I must decline. My nephew, Lady Thorn, and Lord Lionsvale, all remain under my protection.”

Her jaw tightens, two small lines appearing between her eyebrows.

“I urge you to reconsider, sir. My son is a subject of my kingdom for me to punish as I wish. As a monarch, you should respect that.”

“Even if I believed him to truly be your subject,” says Lisinder, and I catch the pause after this phrase, as if he’s trying to wordlessly communicate what he really knows. “What about Lady Thorn? You have no claim to her.”

I shift as many sets of eyes turn to me.

“She challenges my rule alongside my son. But more than that, her magic is not to be trusted. She has used it to attack me and to harm my court.”

I shake my head at how she can twist the truth. I’ve only harmed her court in that I’ve tried to stop her doing what she thinks is best for it, which is tearing it apart for it to be rebuilt only after a plague of death and destruction.

“My answer is final, my lady,” Lisinder says firmly. I can feel the tension in the room, pulled taut between the Unseelie, as they wait to see what Evanthe will say.

But I don’t think any of them expect what comes next.

It’s like watching a transformation. At Lisinder’s final words of refusal, Evanthe’s face changes, her smooth expression twisting into something ugly and hateful. Even when imprisoning Ruskin at the founding stone, or killing Halima, I’ve never seen such an expression on her face. It grows even more frightening when the snarl widens into a grin so wide it stretches her features. Even through the portal I can see the glint in her eye—a dangerous, manic look.