The icy water steals my breath, and my heavy skirts tangle around my legs, making it nearly impossible to kick my way to the surface. A pair of arms wraps around my waist, hauling me upwards until my head bursts through the water. The rest of the people on the dock clamber to see what all the commotion is about.

Ronan swims me to shore, but the moment my feet are beneath me, I shove him off, not caring who is watching. One of my slippers has been lost to the depths, and my body vibrates with so much rage, I cannot even feel the cold as I shove my soaked hair off my brow with a shaking hand.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to⁠—”

“Didn’t mean to what? Ignore my repeated requests to be left out of the water?”

He gawks at me, his hands splayed at his sides. “All you had to do was tell me that you don’t know how to swim.”

I do know how to swim, but I don’t bother explaining that because the excuse serves my purposes, and this infuriating man doesn’t deserve the truth. “I shouldn’t have had to tell you anything. I said I didn’t want to get in the water, and you. Didn’t. Listen. I hope you listen to me now, Ronan Reve, because I am only saying this once: I do not wish to see you ever again.” I turn on my heel and stomp for our blanket.

Ronan chases after me while Ivee chases after Ronan, calling his name. “Kerris, please. You cannot be serious. It was an accident.”

Dropping me may have been an accident, but ignoring my wishes wasn’t.

Nia catches up, and the glare she shoots Ronan could freeze the entire lake. When she turns back to me, her eyes soften. “Are you all right, Kerris?”

“I-I’m f-fine.” Humiliated and angry and embarrassed but fine.

Ronan stomps off toward the mountain in a huff, the crowd parting in his wake as Ivee rushes to console him. Whispers fill the air, women saying how lucky I was that our prince would deign to consider a match with me. How I am a fool for turning him away.

They’re all wrong.

I will never tie myself to someone who does not take my wishes or me into consideration, no matter how handsome or wealthy he might be. That is a recipe for a terrible life, and I refuse to spend eternity without a voice.

Nolan jogs over to our forgotten picnic to whip the blanket from beneath the basket and settle the coarse wool around my shoulders.

I appreciate their concern, but their attention is only making this worse. “I’m going back to the house.”

Nia swipes her dress from the grass. “Give me a moment to change, and I’ll go with you.”