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The dance.

Riven’s bow to me.

Why?

Is what Arkyn said true? Has Riven actually fallen for me?

I need answers, and only the king himself can give me what I seek.

I’m curled in the armchair nearest the hearth in Riven’s suite when he finally returns from the ball.

The distant hum of music and laughter fades with the heavy thud of the door closing behind him, leaving only the pop and crackle of firewood. His shoulders sag beneath the weight of his velvet doublet, his crown tilted as though even it has grown heavy.

“Careful, little witch,” he murmurs, removing the laurel leaf circlet and setting it on the table beside his bed. His fingers linger on the metal. Then he glances at me, and a faint smirk ghosts across his lips. “I could get used to the sight of you waiting in my chambers.”

But I’ve been waiting long enough, my thoughts circling like vultures since he cut in on Arkyn.

My pulse surges, hands curling into fists in my lap.

“What the fuck was that?” The words rip out of me before I can stop them, hot as the flames illuminating the room.

“What was what?” he replies, voice free of all pretense.

“You were supposed to focus on Miriya tonight. You were supposed to make her believe you were going to choose her.” I storm across the room and jab him in the chest with my finger. “Instead, you discarded that poor female and interrupted my dance with⁠—”

“I know what I did.” He catches my hand and places a chaste kiss against my palm. The gentle gesture cools my ire as he releases me and pours two glasses of wine. He offers me one and says, “What of it?”

“Why would you do that?”

His gaze meets mine, and it’s burning with challenge. “You know why.”

“I-I don’t.”

His grin is vicious. “Perhaps I couldn’t fathom the idea of wooing Miriya when the taste of your cunt still lingered on my lips.”

My cheeks heat. “Don’t be crude.”

“Oh, little witch,” he says, leaning in and nipping at my jaw, “don’t act like I don’t know precisely how much you enjoy the filthy things that come out of my mouth when I’m fucking you.”

Gods, he’s so right. My knees are boneless at his mere proximity, at the memory of every obscene thing he’s said and done to me.

My eyes narrow. He’s trying to distract me.

I stand up a little bit straighter and glare at him. “Tell me the truth, Riven. Why did you interrupt my dance?”

“Maybe,” he drawls, “I couldn’t stand the sight of that male touching you, touching what’s⁠—”

“That male?” I say exasperatedly. “You mean Arkyn? Your best friend? Your sword catcher? Don’t be ridiculous. You need to apologize to Arkyn and Miriya.”

“I don’t think she’s the right choice.”

“You thought she was the right choice up until you saw me dance with Arkyn.”

“No,” he says tightly. “I didn’t.”

“Then why⁠—”

“You want the truth?” He drains his glass. “Well, the truth is… I’m not ready, Gwyn.”