We moved on, making our way to the throne room. He led me between the statues lining the walls, their eyes brightening with magic as we passed, then dropped my arm to go to enormous golden throne, where he sat. “I’m going to abdicate.”

“Pardon?” It was the last thing I’d expected him to say. “To whom?”

“Aiden.”

I frowned, disliking the choice. When we’d returned to Trianon, I’d woken him from his sleep, only to discover that he’d been mostly aware the entire time. That he’d remained sane was a miracle, the only sign of his tribulations the haunted expression he wore when he thought no one was looking. Zoé had watched over him for most of his ordeal, and he remained as attached to her as though all their time together had been waking. More than attached, and Zoé seemed inclined to be more forgiving than I was of the mistakes he’d made.

“This is an Isle of humans,” he said. “It makes no sense for me to rule. And besides, I was thinking we might travel for a time. See the continent. The world.”

As if I could begrudge him that.

“Besides,” he said. “If he turns out to be dreadful, I can always take it back.” Unhooking the crown that had been left on the back of the throne, most likely by his father, he tucked it in his bag. “There’s one more thing we have to fetch.”

And it was fitting that it was in the glass gardens. Though no doubt he knew the exact location of what he wanted, he led me on a meandering route through the maze of glowing foliage. We crossed the place where his mother and aunt had been slaughtered, but, mercifully, someone had cleaned up the mess, and I said nothing. Eventually we ended up next to the small fountain where, through the tear in the fabric of the world, dripped the Élixir de la Lune. The fountain was almost empty, depleted from all the trolls I’d sent back to Arcadia. “Planning on taking another wife?” I asked, as he carefully filled a small vial.

“I can barely keep track of the one I have.” He lifted the glass cylinder and sniffed at it before stoppering it. “I’ve a promise to fulfill.” He gave no further explanation, and I followed him out of the gardens and down to the river, where he turned in a slow circle as though drinking the city in.

“The time of the trolls is over,” he said, though it seemed the explanation was more for his benefit than mine. “To the half-bloods this place is nothing more than a broken cage – none will ever willingly live here again. And I do not wish to see it taken by those who care only for its riches, who would steal the gold, the art, the knowledge, and use it for their advantage.”