“Look at that. Fever’s broken.”

Together, they watched the sun slide out from behind a cloud, Sophie expecting its return to brilliant life . . . only to see the sun still yolky and anemic against a cold blue morning, even weaker than before. Only it wasn’t just weaker, it was leaking small gobs of yellow light into the sky, drip, drip, drip, like an icicle in summer. Sophie stepped closer to the window ledge, eyes wide. There was no question about it.

The sun was melting.

She whirled to the School Master. “But you said if the Storian wrote—”

“A new story. And ours still needs an end,” said Rafal soberly. “Our storybook can’t close now that your friends have come back. Not as long as they have a new ending in mind. An ending where Good wins and Evil dies . . .”

He paused, locking into her emerald eyes.

“They’re coming to kill me, Sophie.”

Sophie held his stare, stunned, and looked down at Agatha and Tedros, on their way through the Woods to rescue her. In their version of the story, they would save her from an Evil School Master. But to Sophie, her Good friends were about to slay the only boy who’d ever loved her, so she could be a sidekick to someone else’s Ever After.

Sidekick. That’s the ending they thought she deserved.

Sophie burned, glaring at her gold ring. She was a queen.

“I won’t let them hurt you,” she seethed.

“You’d do that for me?” The School Master’s boyish face contorted with emotion. “You’d fight your own friends?”

Sophie tensed. “F-f-fight Agatha and Ted—? But I thought—”

“That they’ll leave us in peace and go on their way if you tell them to?” Rafal asked sweetly.

“But I can’t fight her. Surely there’s another way—” Sophie pressed.

His eyes hardened. “War is the only way.”

Sophie bristled at the change in his tone. But she knew he was right. After the young School Master nearly killed Tedros with Tedros’ own sword, the prince was coming for his blood, and Agatha would be behind him. War was on the horizon and Sophie had to take a side.

Sophie thought of all the times Agatha had allied with Tedros against her: during the Circus of Talents and Evil Ball, then in her secret plan to kiss Tedros and banish her home during the Boy-Girl War. Sophie’s blood simmered to a boil. Agatha had even believed she was turning into a witch in the Blue Forest, believing Tedros over her, when it was Dean Sader’s magic all along. “I’m not this!” she’d cried, begging her friend to see the truth. But Agatha had stayed firmly by her prince’s side.

Sophie too had a side to take—even if it meant fighting her best friend. Just like Agatha would protect her prince, she would protect her one true love.

“This is it, isn’t it?” she whispered, watching the melting sun. “Either they die . . . or we do. Good versus Evil. That’s the way all fairy tales end.”