He sips from his glass, his gaze roving over me. Gone is the man who cared—or at least pretended to, leaving in his wake a cold, calculating prince. “Let me get this straight: Your Unseelie used you, then tossed you aside, and now you’re crawling back to me?”

Annoyance prickles my spine. Ever didn’t use me. He may have sent me away, but it was for my own safety. Because he loved me. If I hold onto that knowledge, I just might find a way to survive this. “That isn’t true.”

He yanks Trevor’s shirt from my shoulder, exposing the scars from Ever’s teeth. “Do you want to try again?”

With my face burning, I drag my sleeve back into place. What’s the point in continuing this farce when he knows that I have no intention of rekindling our relationship? “I need to speak to your father regarding a very urgent matter,” I say, remaining calm despite the panic gripping my chest. Please let this work. Please.

Ronan’s nail taps against the glass, condensation sliding down the smooth surface, dripping onto the toes of his boots. The silence between us rings through my ears. Deafening in its emptiness.

His lips twist into a sneer. “You’re trying to save the bridge, aren’t you?”

Might as well come clean and pray this man has a heart somewhere in that arrogant chest. “Without access to the well, the Unseelie will die.”

“So?”

“So, they are people too.”

“They’re not people. They’re monsters. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be.” His shoulder bumps mine on his way past. I should follow him, beg him to reconsider.

All I can do is stand here, fighting for my next breath.

They’re all going to die.

I failed them.

This is my fault.

The door opens once more, but I can’t even bring myself to turn and see who it is.

A hand slides over my shoulder. “What did he say?” Nia asks.

“He won’t help me.” No one will. If I’m going to fix this, I’ll need to find a way to do it myself.

“What now?”

There’s only one thing left to do. “I’m going to the castle anyway.”

* * *

The public carriage drops me right at the castle gates, where the guards refuse me entry. Their response comes as no surprise. Why would they let a random stranger through? Still, I don’t know what else to do so I stand at the gilded gates, staring at the stone castle in the distance, pleading with the fates for an audience.

The sun sinks in the sky, the shadows growing larger, more formidable, yet another barrier to overcome. Then I see a gilded carriage tearing up the lane, drawn by four horses.

The king.

Finally, something today is going right.