He’s waiting for you. He’d told me that before I left. Dorian had laid everything out for me. He’d proved his love and loyalty over and over. I’d told Evan I was getting back together with Dorian. I’d even sort of accepted it in my head. But something inside me kept holding back. I had yet to act and needed to. Dorian had opened his heart to me. It was time for me to answer.

I skipped protocol and traveled to the Oak Land by myself. My safety might not be an immediate concern anymore, but status said I should have an escort. I liked the alone time, though, and smiled when I saw some of the Oak Land’s trees touched with the fiery hue of autumn. Dorian wasn’t quite ready to let it slip into the season he loved, but it was getting closer.

As I approached his castle, I spared a brief moment to wonder if I should have worn gentry attire. I was in one of my favorite outfits, jeans and a Def Leppard shirt. No, I decided. This was who I was. I wouldn’t try to create an image that was more than that. Just before entering the castle, however, I did put on a crown he’d once given me. It was a delicate little thing, tiny gold roses and emeralds. I liked it because it was from him and because it wasn’t too showy.

I received a warm welcome from the guards and was led outside through one of the back entrances. I expected to find Dorian in one of the many courtyards he spent his time in but was instead taken farther out on the grounds, finally ushered into a small, pretty clearing ringed in the trees that had given the Oak Land its name. Several members of Dorian’s court sat around in the grass on blankets, making a picnic of the sunny day. Their focus was on the clearing’s center, which contained a medium-sized pond. A path of very small stepping stones extended across the water, stopping at about the middle. There, balancing on one foot on the farthest stone, was Muran. He was sweating visibly, but I doubted it was from the heat.

Dorian stood near the edge like some kind of mad ringmaster, the sunlight setting his long hair ablaze. With an elegant gesture, he made a rock float through the air and settle in the water in front of Muran. The servant—who had been starting to waver—gratefully jumped onto the new rock with his other foot.

“Eugenie, Queen of Rowan and Thorn,” announced the herald.

Dorian looked over at me with surprise that quickly turned to joy. It was such a rare outpouring of affection from his normally lazy smile that I felt weak in the knees.