But his mind-voice was stern, cutting her off. Things have progressed since you left. They’ve discovered the forbidden texts in your cell. I thought, before, that it was a spur-of-the-moment thing—a reckless impulse. I wasn’t even sure what I was seeing, at first … But now I know. His eyes burned. You were planning to try it for a long time, weren’t you, Constance? You must feel so clever. You certainly had me fooled. I thought you were different—but you’re just like Chatham, after all. There was real bitterness and hurt in his words. Chatham is on my back about the mask too, as if that were more important than the rest of it.

“You don’t understand,” she said, finally finding her voice again. She rubbed the top of her nose. “There’s more to this than you realize. You know nothing about me. Nothing.”

You’ve made that abundantly clear, Constance. Even so, it’s simple: either return and face the Council’s judgment, or remain in Duke’s Forest and die from starvation, or the Pestilence, or whatever other evils are lurking in that cursed place. Or do you think you can hide from death as well as justice?

She felt something in her snap at his superior tone. “It is not simple. It is never simple,” she spat out. “Don’t be so naive, Emris.”

He glanced over his shoulder—as if he’d heard some noise. But as he returned to her, his voice was firm. I shouldn’t even be speaking to you. I wanted to tell you that if you hand yourself in at the nearest temple in the next twenty-four hours, I will plead for mercy on your behalf. For the sake of everything we once had.

“No,” she whispered, but the bite had left her voice. It was over; it really was. She had known it would be, but it didn’t hurt any less. She remembered briefly the times they’d spent together, how close they’d come to something like love.

He leaned nearer to the mirror. Think about it. If I ever meant anything to you, think about it. You’re playing with dangerous, chaotic magic. Is that how you found a way through the forest when no one else could?

She shook her head. It wasn’t worth arguing: whatever she said, he’d already made up his mind.

Then this is goodbye.

And the glass cleared, and she was looking at her own pale, pinched face, made ugly by bitterness.

A hot rage flooded her veins, and she saw her blue eyes flash purple. She snapped the pendant shut and flung it hard against the wall. She heard the glass cracking inside its case. The pendant skittered under the bed.