“Fine. Fine.” She wiped her hand down her face and shook off the last of her laughter. “Wouldn’t it have been better for us to discuss this before coming here?”

“When would we have, Kerrigan?” he demanded. “While you were out, drinking with your friends, or when you were hungover on the flight?”

“I don’t know. Maybe before or after you told me you were exiled,” she snapped right back.

He froze at the words. “I wanted to tell you.”

“Don’t bother, princeling,” she said, retreating to his nickname to keep them on solid ground.

“As you wish, halfling.”

The word cut just a little bit more than normal.

“What do we do now?” she asked after a moment of silence.

“Wait for my father to see us.”

Kerrigan looked at him skeptically. “I don’t do well with sit tight and wait your turn.”

“We’re trying not to get either of us killed.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

Fordham chose to ignore her comment and headed into the bedroom, pulling a sheaf of papers out of the writing desk. He sat before it and began to write his sad, broody boy poetry. Meanwhile, she did what she always did when trapped inside with nothing to do—she slowly went crazy.

6

The Princess

Two days went by with nothing.

An interminably long space of time alone with Fordham Ollivier in his bedchamber. Anything could have been happening. They could have been using the big, beautiful bed in his chambers, just to give someone something to actually gossip about. Not that they’d seen anyone, except Benton and Bayton delivering meals three times a day.

But no. No fun bed times.

Fordham retreated to the couch, and she had the giant, fluffy goose down bed all to herself. He left a few times to try to speak to someone who would get them an audience with his father. He only came back angrier every time he left. She’d taken to avoiding him when he returned. They alternated between arguments and cold shoulders, and she didn’t have the energy for it. He was out now and had been gone for an hour. She’d wanted out of the room bad enough that she even offered to join him. He’d almost laughed at her. As if her half-Fae presence would make everything worse.

“Miss Kerrigan,” a voice called after a knock on the door.

Kerrigan rolled her eyes at the use of miss but still hurried to answer. It wasn’t yet time for Benton and Bayton to bring lunch for her. Any reason for interaction would be worth it.

She flung the door open. “Yes?”

Benton and Bayton curtsied.

“Will you follow us, miss?” Benton said.

“Where?”

Bayton blanched.

Benton smiled warmly. “We’re to prepare you for dinner.”

“It’s not even lunch.”

Bayton nodded. “Yes, but we have our orders.”

“Are we finally going to meet the king?”