Hawthorne chuckles. “You weren’t afraid of hurting anyone yesterday, witchling. You just didn’t want to admit that I was right.” My fury returns at his arrogance, all other emotions eclipsed by my annoyance at his words. No one has ever gotten under my skin like he does. I’m trying to apologize, am practically laying myself bare, and he shoves it in my face. I roll my eyes and glare at him. Once again, our bodies are closer than I would prefer. I see the way his chest moves up and down with his breathing, the tiny gold threads interwoven in the fabric of his clothing.

“That is not—” I start to protest, but Hawthorne cuts me off.

“You know I’m right. Let this one go,” he says arrogantly but firmly. Something about the earnest command in his voice makes me back down.

“Fine. Yes, you were right. Happy?” I sneer. A half smile quirks his lips as he steps closer to me and brings his mouth to my ear.

“Elated,” he whispers before turning and walking to take a seat on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other, appearing completely unaffected and relaxed. Blood rushes to my cheeks as I realize he was just looking to get a rise out of me and that—once again—I fell for it. I’m even more angry that it was exactly what I needed to pull myself together. I want to snap his neck where he sits, so confident in his own smug righteousness, but all I can do is gape at him.

Silene, always one to read a room, takes my hand in hers and leads me to sit across from Hawthorne on the sofa. Fionn stands behind the Prince, unwilling to forgive me yet.

“I’d like to give you an explanation, Laurel. Now that tensions have dropped,” Hawthorne says, all the seriousness from yesterday returned to his features. I only nod. “The leader of the rebellion, the one you saw at the processing tower, forced our hand.” I sink further into the sofa where I sit with shame. Not only was the male I released from my cells in charge of yesterday’s attack, but he is the leader of the rebellion. The horror of the last few years of rebel strikes could have been eliminated, if only I hadn’t fallen for his act. Hawthorne stares at me with curiosity but says nothing as he continues his explanation.

“We were told about the campaign with only an hour to decide what to do, and they had us watched the entire time, as Silene said. I decided to stay, calculating in the short time we had that it was better to keep our cover while attempting to mitigate the damage. It was an impulsive decision, but I still believe it was the right one.”

“I know,” I say quietly.