Ronan appears from around the back of the cottage, speaking in low tones with an elderly man sporting a bushy mustache and a silver pin on the lapel of his black coat. When the prince sees me, he says something to the man before stomping toward the gate, his expression darkening like a storm cloud. “What the hell is she doing here?”

Nolan shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his face falling into a grimace. “Kerris was the last person to see the victim alive.”

“The victim? Are you kidding me? That’s our friend Trevor in there, not some nameless, faceless person.”

“Ronan—”

The prince holds up a hand, stopping Nolan mid-sentence. “Save it. We both know she didn’t kill him, so I’ll ask again: Why is she here?”

Kill him? Nolan said they had questions, not that they thought I was responsible. “I would never⁠—”

Ronan clicks his fingers. “Not another word. I will handle this.” He stalks back toward the man with the mustache. The two of them exchange tense words with lots of serious glances cast in my direction.

I don’t know what they’re saying, but from all the frowning, it doesn’t look good. Eventually, Ronan and the man shake hands, and he comes back to me. “Leave us.”

Nolan and the other guards exchange confused looks.

“I said leave us!”

They scatter, but don’t go far, the manacles on their belts jangling as they watch from behind the hedge with the rest of the guards.

Blowing out a breath, Ronan drags his hand through his golden curls. “I’m afraid it’s serious, Kerris.”

Of course it’s bloody serious—our friend is dead. “Could it have been a wolf?” I know Ever said that no wolf crossed The Divide, but perhaps he was wrong and one made it through. Maybe it was in our kingdom all along.

The prince shakes his head. “Unless wolves know how to slit a man’s throat, this wasn’t a wolf.”

The memory of Everett doing just that to the beast that attacked me this morning flashes through my mind. The hot spray of blood. The sightless look in the animal’s dead eyes.

And someone did the same thing to poor Trevor. “Who would do such a thing?”

His jaw works as he stares hard at me. “The inspector thinks it was you.”

“That is preposterous.”

“You were the last person to see him alive.”

“That doesn’t mean I killed him!”

“Keep your voice down,” he hisses with a menacing step toward me.

It takes everything in me to stand my ground. Not only has this been the worst day of my life, but also it’s been the longest. Tears sting the backs of my eyes. There will be plenty of time for crying when I’m alone.