I chuff out loud thinking of my best friend. Nemesia would think it madness I’ve enlisted the help of an enemy from abroad to foil plans hatched against me by the enemy within my own borders. It probably is madness—not only have I broken our agreement to never meet with Prince Hawthorne, I also didn’t kill him when he learned too much, and now I’m willingly partnering with him. I’m blindly trusting three strangers more than I trust the thirty plus advisors on my Council, who have an average service tenure of more than one hundred years. No, not blindly trusting—you’re smarter than that. I won’t let them get too close, nor will I truly trust them. They’ll get just enough information to help me achieve my goals, and nothing more.

Prince Hawthorne’s face flashes across my mind, and my body tingles with the memory. Pressure builds low in my belly at the thought of seeing the Prince again, but I brush away the idea that it’s anything other than nerves for pulling this subterfuge off. I cannot—will not—allow him to become a distraction. I’m going to uncover the rebel leaders’ identities and then dispose of the Shining Prince. In whatever way necessary. Mazus was a fool to send his son here—he won’t be returning home, especially not now. Something churns in my gut. Uncertainty? Guilt? I push it down, and with a final glance at Lunaria, whose eyes are too keen for my liking, I aerstep to the ground floor of the palace.

Fionn and the Prince jump in their chairs when I arrive in their apartment with no notice. Their eyes meet mine as they stand quickly, bowing low, and I find myself tracking the Prince’s movements with interest. Like the day of our meeting in the throne room, he’s well dressed, the perfectly tailored tunic and fitted pants emphasizing the hard lines of his body. He catches me staring and gives me a wink, causing my cheeks to heat involuntarily. Fionn’s suspicious gaze stays fixed on me, eyes narrowed. I bare my teeth in a hiss to cement Fionn’s fear and distract the Prince and myself from the focused way I was taking in his form. Scaring males is my specialty, and even Prince Hawthorne takes a small step back. Satisfaction thrums through me.