Hudson clenched his jaw, eyeing me and crossing his arms. I knew something was troubling him. Sure enough, once the tender moment was over, he came forward. There was urgency in his voice when he spoke. “Once you’re feeling well enough, the queen has requested you attend an audience with her.”

“May I ask why?” I said, surprised and also a little concerned.

Lincoln gasped. “You just received a royal invitation! You don’t question it.”

“Isn’t it better if I know what she wants? To prepare?” I asked.

“It’s classified.”

Lincoln whispered under her breath. “You’re supposed to say, ‘I accept.’”

“Fine. I accept. Thank you. Why does all this royal business have to be so complicated, anyway?”

Then I suddenly remembered seeing the queen by my side in my dream—or what I’d thought was a dream. She seemed to care for me in that moment. Then I recalled that look she’d given me at the Awakening Ceremony on the first day. She had probably known then that I was the last Stavros. I wondered if she had known my parents? I had so many questions for her.

Soon, Hudson, Lincoln, and Hawke left, their work taking them away and leaving me alone with Kris once more. When Kris finally had to leave as well, I was forced to stare at the ceiling, wishing my recovery would speed up. Kris had promised me that she would bring me my book tomorrow so that I wouldn’t be so bored here at the Court Hospital now that I had regained consciousness.

It was close to midnight when I heard noises on the other side of the door. Was it the Faction? Had they found out that I was still alive and Damian had been arrested? Had they sent someone else to finish the job? I double-checked my surroundings, trying to find anything I could use as a weapon to defend myself. My eyes fell on the fruit basket someone had sent to me. No, I refused to throw fruit at them. I looked for an alternative and decided that the trash bin would have to do.

I gingerly crawled out of bed and grabbed the bin with both hands as I waited for the assassin to come in. When the door swung opened, I threw the trash bin, unfortunately causing Lady Jane Ambrosia, who was holding a lit-up birthday cake, to stumble backward. If Domenico hadn’t been behind her, I doubt there would still be a cake.

“Sorry.” I moved back toward the bed then sat on it.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned.” Jane shrugged it off, then beamed, she and the rest of the slightly stunned crew behind her starting to sing “Happy Birthday” to me.