If the Beholder’s crew was surprised at our early return, they were even more shocked at the state of us. Cheerful shouts went up as our rowboat drew near, but when Andersen glimpsed my face, they were abruptly cut short. Lang only left my side long enough to summon Will and Vishnu to carry my things downstairs.

More tears and smeared makeup. Another ruined gown. Six weeks had passed, but I was the same girl who’d left Potomac.

Their eyes were more sympathetic than my pride could stand.

As I rushed belowdecks to my room, I would have given anything for my godmother’s company, or Daddy’s. But the people I loved and trusted had never felt farther away.

Lang went away just long enough to bring me a mug of tea from the galley. He sat by my bedside until I cried myself to sleep.

He was beside my bed again when I woke, my copy of Beowulf in one hand, Godmother Althea’s book in the other.

“Is this yours?” He held out the smaller volume. “I tripped over it in the hallway.”

I tossed it into my trunk. “Bear’s.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Did—did I deserve it?” My voice quavered. “After what I did?”

Lang frowned. “What you did . . . ?”

I rubbed at my eyes, puffy and soft from crying. “The—you know. The lying.”

The kiss.

Lang shook his head. “Selah, they set you up to fall for him. The entire court spent two weeks pretending. Like I said, it was an incredibly elaborate lie.” He paused, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “You may have broken the rules, but they fixed the whole game. What a stupid gamble.”

I didn’t respond. I remembered Bear touching my face, sitting in his study in front of the fire, coming to my door at dawn.

I’d known my courtship was a farce. I just hadn’t realized I was the one being played.

And now, I had one fewer buffer between me and the Imperiya.

Lang’s brow furrowed. His eyes were soft. “You’re going to be all right,” he said.

He offered me my godmother’s book. I cleared my throat and accepted it, dropping it on my bed and flipping quickly past the English fairy tales.

Something crackled, and I froze. I stared up at Lang, wide-eyed. “What was that?”

And then I heard her. My godmother.

“Selah.” The voice was muffled, but it was unmistakably hers. “Selah, if you can hear me, I’m here.”

“What is that?” I scrambled backward, sitting upright in bed.

“Selah, it’s been over six weeks, so you must be through your first visit by now. I don’t know if you can hear me.” I clapped a hand to my mouth. Lang seized the book and flipped swiftly through its pages, jewel-bright illuminations blurring past.