“That’s a conversation I’ll have with my father and none other.”

“Of course.” He grinned, revealing a piece of something green stuck between his two front teeth. “I wonder how well His Grace will reward me for putting you down.” Then he attacked, not me, but his fellows, sending the female flying through the air and then slicing the remaining guard in two.

I turned to run, but his magic caught my ankle, then slammed me against the cobbles. “Some things are better done by hand,” he said, and his boot caught me in the ribs with an audible crack. The female guard raced back and tried to interfere, but he walled her off, his magic stronger, if only barely.

Blow after blow struck me in the sides, in the arms, in my face, and there was nothing I could do to get away. Bones cracked and blood splattered the ground, but through it all I saw the face of my attacker. How he sensed my weakness and reveled in it. Then the air stirred, filling with a sound much like a whip being cracked, and through the swelling of my eyes, I watched Guillaume’s head drop to the ground next to me.

“Get up.”

I struggled to rise, and my father’s hand latched under my arm, hauling me to my feet.

My lone defender stood wild-eyed. “I tried to stop him, Your Majesty,” she pleaded.

“Go find others to replace them,” he snarled at her, and she took off running.

It took every ounce of willpower I had not to pass out from the pain as he dragged me through the streets to the palace. They were empty as they only were during curfew, but the faces of those peering out from behind windows filled with dismay when they recognized me.

“What’s happened?” I asked, spitting a mouthful of blood.

“Sluag,” he said. “Now keep your mouth shut until we’re behind closed doors.”

He brought me to his office, dropping me unceremoniously on the plush carpets. Going to a tray laden with goodies, he plucked up several linen napkins and a pitcher of water before kneeling next to me and wiping blood off my face.

“That hurts,” I complained, flinching away to get into a better position, the knife tucked into my boot burning against my skin.

“Gives you a bit of a taste of what it’s like to be human.”

Neither his words or his tone were what I’d expected, and I lifted my head. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“I’m not.” He rinsed the napkin in the water, then held it to the cut on my cheek. “Winter called your debt. Cécile was here and she told me enough. I sent her to tell you to stay put in Trianon, but it would appear she didn’t make it in time.”

There was never a chance she would.