I felt a mix of guilt and anger. “Hey, you’re the one who started it! If you hadn’t tricked me into the Iron Crown—”

He gave a melodramatic sigh. “Not this again. Please. At least find some other grievance to lay at my feet. That crown saved lives, and you know it.”

“You withheld the truth from me.”

“And you’ve withheld this news of your departure from me all week,” he pointed out. “One standard for me and another for you?”

“I’m not a hypocrite,” I said, even though I kind of was. “Not telling you this doesn’t have nearly the impact of the Iron Crown! You just don’t like being left out.”

“Like I just said, there’s a lot more to it than just that,” he said coldly. “Like you thinking obscurity is an adequate substitute for the protection of some of the greatest magic users in this world.”

“Like yourself?” I guessed.

“Of course.” Modesty was never a virtue Dorian really prized. “Do you think I wouldn’t rip the earth up around anyone who tried to lay a hand on you?”

“No, but I don’t think you can always be nearby.”

“I could be,” he countered. Some of his earlier anger eased. “I’ll stay here in your lands permanently. Oh, I’ll have to make the occasional jaunts back to the Oak Land, but far better me traveling than you. Unless, of course, my hair leads to another case of mistaken identity.” He tossed some of that glorious auburn hair over one shoulder to make his point. “Of course, with my rugged and manly features, it seems unlikely that kind of error would occur.”

“It’s not realistic,” I said, not falling prey to his charm. “And really, I do think this other plan is the safest option.”

“Yet I won’t have any idea if you actually are safe. You’ll be lost among humans.”

“You sound like Jasmine.”

He sniffed. “Who knew? It appears she and I finally agree on something.”

Unlike Jasmine, though, no amount of arguing convinced him of the plan’s soundness. He didn’t try to talk me out of it; he just stubbornly refused to endorse it. And, as I continued laying out my now well-worn arguments, I could see that patient mask of his growing thinner and thinner. This decision really did agitate him, though I couldn’t entirely figure out what bothered him the most. At last, he stood up and cut off some point he was making.

“My dear, this is a waste of time for both of us. We’re going to have to agree to disagree, and really, I see no point in my continued presence. It’s time for me to go home.”

“Tonight?” I asked, standing as well.

“Why not?” He reached for a cloak that was draped over a small table. “As I said before, I’m not the one in danger. I’d thought to stay until tomorrow to enjoy more of your company, but it seems that’s futile now.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” I said petulantly.