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I told myself that I would never come back here. That I would live with the humans forevermore if that’s what it took to escape this gilded cage. Yet here I am. Standing on the same wooden planks I used to dream about escaping as a child.

“We are just visiting, only here to discuss important matters with you,” I say.

My father clucks his tongue. “I would wager that the return of the Forest Prince is an important matter.”

“As I said—”

“No Son, you listen to me.”

There it is. That booming, commanding voice of my childhood. The one that told me I couldn’t leave the forest. Couldn’t explore the world. Had to fulfill my duty and honor and whatever the fuck else he had planned for me. I was even told who I could and couldn’t date. Everything. Every. Fucking. Thing. In my life was planned for me. Handed to me on a silver platter.

Already, my skin itches to see the sky. To take Ramona’s hand, turn around, and run away from this place. Back to the Watch. Anywhere.

My father crosses his arms into the sleeves of his flowing robe. I wonder if, even now, Ramona is seeing our resemblance. The same hairline, same almond eyes, though his irises are slightly darker. “I will remind you that we made a deal.” His voice is back to calm, placating. A bee making honey only to trap you in it later.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to make this reunion easy for my father, just like he never made life easy for me, I want him to work for it. Spell our bargain out for me so he can see the error in his ways. “I don’t recall.”

Eyes like deep pits of coal bore into me. Then he takes a steadying breath.

Good. I’m getting to him.

Lord Clayoq’s shoulders rise and fall like the ancient canopies shifting in the wind. Birds chirp softly in the distance. Wind chimes from the villages ring in familiar chords. Even the soft rays of light twinkling down from the sky above create a picture of serenity.

Peaceful for those that don’t know that even the nicest things can be a cage.

Father’s voice is deep, resonant. “You swore on the ancient roots that your return to the Forest Tribe would be the return of the prince.”

“But that is the thing, Father. I’m not returning.”

“I believe the text we agreed upon was that ‘should your feet step onto the holy soil once more, then the prince would be reclaimed as the protector of sky and soil and we shall forsake his betrayal and welcome him back into the shade once more.’”

Well fuck.

I turn to Ramona only to find her staring straight ahead, gaze green and so full of hatred, I’m glad it’s not directed at me. For now, at least.

My father turns and walks into the giant arch of my childhood home. The castle in the sky. The miracle of the forest.

The mother fucking Palace of Truth.

Truth my ass.

“Come, child,” he says. I hate when he calls me that. “We have much to discuss. I would have you escorted to your quarters, but I presume you remember the way.”

I mutter under my breath exactly what I remember about his sky palace.

“I will pretend I did not hear that,” Father says, “and remind you that you, and your guest”—he flicks a hand over his shoulder referring to Ramona, still not turning to face us—“will be expected at dinner tonight.”

I grumble again.

“What was that—”

“Yes, father. We will be there,” I manage to cut in before he disappears around a bend, cloak dusting the floor. He didn’t even turn around. Already onto bigger, more important matters. Like always.

I turn to find Ramona with her arms crossed, sitting onto one hip like she always does. She doesn’t gape at the enormity of the palace carved from the largest ancient tree in the forest. No, not one ounce of shock and awe is on her face.

Only pure, unadulterated anger and a dash of annoyance, made obvious by the way she is winding up her arm to punch me.

I grab her wrist mid air. “I would save that for later, if I were you.”