Pari was in the tree now too, climbing slowly, swearing. Lovisa reached the trellis while he was still fumbling through low branches. As she climbed it to the window, it occurred to her for the first time that the trellis might not hold Pari’s weight. It was designed for holding ivy, after all, not humans, and he was a lot bigger than she was.

Now Lovisa had an image stuck in her head: Pari lying on the lawn with a broken neck. He probably deserved it. But her life, if it happened, would become a disaster.

Moving as quickly as she could, she climbed back into the tree and scurried partway down. “Pari,” she whispered. “The trellis might not hold your weight. Be careful when you get to that part.”

All at once, Pari’s frustrated noises transformed into laughter again. The laughter became hysterical.

“Shh!” whispered Lovisa, alarmed. “The guards!”

“Lovisa,” he said. “Admit it: This is an elaborate prank. Right? Look at me. I’m stuck in a tree outside your house in the snow, with a deathtrap of a trellis above me. I don’t even want to have sex with you anymore.”

“I’m insulted,” said Lovisa, matching his tone. “I planned such a nice night for us.”

“You’re a piece of work,” he said, with a fondness in his voice that swung her sharply into a kind of guilt. I still don’t like him, she reminded herself. And he could still hurt me.

“Come on. It’ll be fun,” she said, pretending to mean it, then scuttling up the tree to the trellis again. The window with the broken lock opened easily. With a small burst of pride, Lovisa climbed into the dark, empty bedroom.

While Pari continued to heave himself from branch to branch below, she tiptoed across the room to the desk. Pulling the drawers out, she fumbled for anything that could be used as a weapon. Her fingers closed on something long and sharp—a letter opener.

She returned to the window just as Pari climbed in. Fell in, really. He landed on the bedroom floor, then rolled onto his back. It was dark enough that she wasn’t sure how to read him, until she heard him chuckling.

“What’s next?” he said. “I assume we’re in an isolated room with a big bed and fluffy pillows, but you want us to do this somewhere more challenging? Maybe on the ridgepole of the roof?”

“We only have to climb a few stairs,” she said, relieved to find him less aggressive.

“I can hear you smiling,” he said. “These stairs are guarded by bears.”

“Get up,” she said, “and take my hand.”