“I am not wrong!” He was across the table, screaming the words in my face. I scrambled back, tripping over my chair and falling in a heap.

“Temper, temper, Father.”

Anaïs’s voice wafted over me, then her hands were under my arms, lifting me onto my feet. “We’ve discussed how I feel about you threatening my sister.”

I backed against the wall, unsure whether I should flee or remain where I was.

“Her efforts are inadequate.” He settled down into his chair. “As are yours, frankly.”

Anaïs sniffed. “So you say, and yet every day Tristan spends more hours in my company, bending my ear with his desires and grievances.”

“He is supposed to be spending hours in your bed, but you haven’t managed that much, have you?”

“Patience.” Anaïs righted my chair, then sat, carefully arranging her skirts. “Tristan is observant, particularly when it comes to changes in character or behavior. If I throw myself at his feet, he will question why. He will mistrust me. Better to have him believe he is the seducer than the other way around.”

“I’m beginning to believe that your request for my patience is nothing more than a way to deflect from your failure to deliver.”

Anaïs shrugged. “Believe what you will.”

I was equal parts amazed and envious of her flippancy. Of her ability to brush off my father’s questions with no fear of retribution.

“As it stands, I do have something for you.” She picked up my glass of wine and drank deeply. “He intends to question the practice of sending half-blood miners into the labyrinth for missed quotas at the King’s public audience tomorrow.”

“Question how?”

“He wants the practice ended. For the half-bloods to be punished in ways that aren’t fatal.”

My father’s eyebrows shot up. As did mine. Such a move was entirely out of character for Tristan, and unease bit at my insides, along with the sense that I was missing something. Something important.

“I’m always pleased to prove my worth, Father.” Anaïs rose to her feet. “But now, I’m off to bed. He wants me there tomorrow, and the King insists on holding his audiences so painfully early. Come, Pénélope. You look as though you could use some rest.”

I let her take my arm, but it felt as though I held onto a stranger.

Once we were out of earshot, she asked, “Did he hurt you?” Her voice was anxious.

“No.”

Anaïs gave a long exhale. “Thank the stars and fates I came home when I did.”

“Indeed.”

“You have to do better, Penny,” she said. “You have to at least appear as though you’re trying to seduce Marc, not like you’re avoiding him. He’s going to be at the audience tomorrow – you should seek him out.”

We reached the door to my chambers, and she turned into me, pulling me close, resting her forehead against mine as she had when we were younger. “I know this is hard, but for now, it’s the only way.”