“I have to leave. You know that,” I said to my friend.

My friend, who, true to character, was watching me pack my bags rather than helping.

But she was here, and that was enough.

Blaise shuffled on her feet, guilt spreading across her face.

I cut my eyes at her as I set a half-folded blouse on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

Blaise’s gaze skirted mine, scanning the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have kept it from you—what Evander and I were up to.”

I bristled at that. It had bothered me initially when I’d found out that Blaise, too, had known for quite some time that there was a way out of the bargain and had hidden that information from me. Perhaps my heart wouldn’t be in this twisted mess if I’d discovered the truth earlier, before Evander swept my heart off its hinges and…

I swallowed any bit of anger I harbored against Blaise. She wasn’t the source of my hurt, anyway. “It’s not your fault. It was Evander’s responsibility to tell me. You were only giving him the chance to be honorable and do it himself. Besides, Evander and you were friends long before I came along. I understand why you wouldn’t want to jeopardize his trust.”

A shadow darkened Blaise’s face. “Still. I’m afraid I’ve jeopardized yours.”

I turned toward her, propping myself backward on the bed, and smiled. “You don’t have to pick between us, you know. You’re welcome to visit me anytime, so long as you’re okay with pretending a certain irritable and irresponsible prince doesn’t exist for a few hours.”

Blaise smiled at that, though it was the weakest smile I’d ever seen cross her lips. A single tear streamed down her face as she threw her arms around me and wrapped me in her embrace. “I’m really going to miss you, you know. It’s been nice having another girl around.”

“You have Imogen,” I mused as her stringy hair scratched at my face.

Blaise humphed. “I’m pretty sure Imogen would slice my hair off in the middle of the night if she thought my retaliation wouldn’t be a thousand times worse.”

I happened to agree, but thought better than to admit as much. No need to put ideas into Blaise’s head.

She finally pulled away, still sniffling as I packed the last of my things. “I’ll call for a coachman, then,” she said, wiping her nose on her sleeve before she scurried from my chambers.

Alone now, the beautiful room with all its fancy embossed wallpaper and ridiculously ornate mirrors and excessive bottles of perfume seemed to encroach on me, threatening to suffocate me in memories.

Evander, that first day. Backing me up against the bed. Threatening to murder me and frame my death on a household servant. I bit back a laugh. I’d been terrified of him then, his hulking form, his lightning-quick speed.

Now that I knew him, I was fairly sure he was the type of person who would stop a carriage to pick up a turtle from the road and move it to safety. Not exactly the murdery sort.

My cheeks heated at the memory of him so close, and my mind flitted to the night of the ball, the way my heart had skipped when he’d cut into my and Fin’s dance, a rage of possessive longing steaming underneath his cocky gaze. Yet on the roof, he’d been quite the gentleman. Gentle and kind and unwilling to push any boundaries I might have.

Though perhaps that was simply because his mind was elsewhere, wishing for someone else’s kiss, lingering on someone else’s body.

My cheeks heated again, and this time the feeling sharpened, traveling to my chest and localizing there, pinching my lungs and making it hard to breathe.

I had to get out of this place. I’d miss parts of it—Blaise and the queen. My heart dampened as I thought of Evander’s mother, the friendship we’d kindled. My friendship with Blaise might have been independent of my betrothal to Evander, but such was not the case with the queen. She was my friend, but before that she was a mother, and her loyalty to her son would supersede any fond feelings she might harbor for me.

The queen and I would part as friends, but we would part all the same.

It hurt more than it should have.

And then Evander…

If only I’d protected my heart, kept that vow to myself I’d made so long ago, then perhaps it wouldn’t ache so much—leaving him. We could have been friends, he and I, had I not diverged from our shared mission of severing our bond. I’d still be leaving, but it would be with a promise of seeing one another again.

But that was silly, too, wasn’t it? Once I was out of the way, Evander’s psychopath love would step into my shoes—figuratively, this time—and there was no way in Alondria she would let me anywhere near him, even if it hadn’t been for that cursed kiss…

Well, it wasn’t so cursed, now was it?

A knock on my door, and my heart jolted, but it was only Blaise poking her head back in.

I tried to ignore the way my heart deflated at the sight of her, like I was expecting someone else to stride through that door.

You’re being irrational, I reminded myself. What are you expecting? Some faerietale gesture of true love?

It was a silly hope. A child’s hope. Besides, what could Evander possibly say that would convince me he loved me more than he loved her?

No, even if he could convince me of that, it wouldn’t be enough.

I didn’t want to be loved more than another woman.

I wanted to be the only woman.

I deserved as much.

So it was silly and foolish to imagine Evander striding into this room with some grand declaration of his love for me, because he’d already proved his lingering feelings for her the moment he’d allowed her to escape.

Nothing short of her head on a stake as a peace offering would convince me otherwise, and I considered myself a reasonable enough person not to expect something so dramatic.

“They’re ready for you,” Blaise said, even her voice drooping.

I nodded and grabbed my bags, straightening my shoulders. A footman hustled in and tried to take my luggage from me. “There’ll be no need for that,” I said. “It’s not as if I’ll have anyone carrying my luggage where I’m going. No use in getting used to it.”

He hesitated, but must have been too timid to put up a fight, because he nodded and backed away.

When we left, Blaise pulled the door shut behind her. The thud of it closing sounded more like closing the door to my future.

No, not my future. One of many possible futures.

I’d simply find myself a better one.

“Ellie?” she asked once the footman rounded the corner.

“Yes?”

“Do you love him?”

My breath caught; my words hitched in my throat for a moment. But I recovered quickly enough. A child of my mother’s would. “I suppose I did… I suppose I do. But I won’t for long. I won’t give my heart to someone who doesn’t want it. At least, I won’t let him keep it. Not for much longer, anyway.”

Blaise swallowed, and for a moment I thought she might cry again. I’d never seen that before, not from anyone other than my parents—someone hurt like that on behalf of someone else. I wondered then how often Blaise absorbed pain that shouldn’t have been her own, how much she hid underneath that free-spirited, lazy facade of hers.

“For what it’s worth, he should have picked you,” Blaise said.