We only make it a couple hundred feet before I hear the sound of footsteps behind us. I glance back to see two men dressed in black running behind us.

“We have an escort?” I ask Vivienne, raising my eyebrows.

“Yup,” she replies. “My security team is kind of overprotective. People have tried to climb in before.” She gestures to the towering iron fence that runs along the edge of the trail we’re on.

“What?” I reply, suddenly panicked. Threats to Vivienne’s safety have never even occurred to me. “Are you safe here?”

Vivienne has the audacity to laugh at my worried expression. “There’s no place in the country that’s better protected,” she promises me. “An army couldn’t invade this place. The only trespassers we’ve ever had were either journalists or mentally ill, but harmless.” Her expression softens. “Thanks for caring, though.”

We keep running in companionable silence. Beads of sweat roll down my face as the wooded trail stretches on and on. I let out a loud sigh of relief when I see the gardens appear again, and Viv laughs. The temperature has increased even more, and we’re both drenched in sweat. We draw closer to the gardens, and I spot the pool we swam in yesterday. Vivienne follows my gaze and immediately guesses my intention.

“Jace, don’t you—”

I don’t allow her a chance to finish the threat, swinging her up and over my shoulder in one smooth motion. She waves her arms and legs wildly but is laughing too hard to keep protesting as I jog toward the pool.

I leap into the deep end, submerging us both in the cool liquid, fully clothed. I push off the cement floor and shoot myself back to the surface. Vivienne bobs up a couple seconds later, slicking her hair back out of her face. She splashes me in the face immediately.

“You’re the worst,” she informs me, but is grinning too broadly for the words to have any bite.

“That’s not what you were saying earlier,” I tease, laughing as her cheeks grow even more flushed. “Or last night.”

She splashes me again, making me laugh harder.

“Vivienne!”

I glance over to see the queen is standing along the edge of the pool. She doesn’t look angry, but I still start guiltily.

“Yes, Mother?” Vivienne calls back as she treads water, managing to look composed despite being sopping wet.

“I told you Anne wanted to meet with you and our houseguest at nine this morning to prepare for the interview tomorrow. It’s quarter of now.”

Vivienne groans under her breath. The humor recedes from my face as Evelyn’s words register. I almost forgot why I’m here.

“Okay, Mother,” she replies. She starts swimming for the ladder, and I follow. She hauls herself out and begins wringing out her hair. I grab two towels, passing her one before I twist the hem of my shirt to shed the excess water from the saturated fabric.

“You’ll both need to change,” the queen states as we stand there dripping.