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My blood burned with a more violent loathing. But while I had to conceal my clenched jaw under a serene smile, Goren’s eyes blazed with open hatred.

Still smiling, Holden reached into the tinkling array of necklaces. He chose one strung with a glassy yellow stone and held it forward. “May I have you for the night, Lady Alissa?”

Keil and Perla went still with anticipation. But I’d planned for this from the moment I’d learned about tonight’s traditions. Learned that, in place of rings to symbolize their evening duty to one another, these courtiers would use necklaces.

So I raised an eyebrow and said, with faintly mocking laughter, “General, my ancestors would turn in their graves if I accepted a proposition made with a fake jewel.”

Holden blinked, clearly unused to rejection. “Whoever told you it was fake?”

“I am more than capable of drawing the conclusion myself. I grew up in a province of craftspeople and jewelers. And that”—I nodded to the necklace, dangling limp in his hand—“would not be considered fit to decorate their shopfronts.”

Holden’s eyes hardened, and I knew I was pushing him into that vulnerable area between anger and humiliation. The area in which people scrambled to preserve their pride, and in doing so, relinquished other pieces of themselves.

But there was only one piece of him I wanted.

Pressing just a little harder, I offered an indulgent smile. “But considering your island’s seclusion, I suppose it’s a fine enough specimen.” I reached for the necklace.

And Holden snatched it out of my reach. He stood straighter, as though to puff himself up, and I knew I’d struck true. Banarrat was the crowning jewel of Holden’s ego, the land he’d fought to rule.

And I’d just suggested that this island, much like the piece of jewelry before me, was nothing more than a shoddy imitation of greatness.

“Well, now.” His next smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’d hate to ruin your outfit with such mediocre accessories.”

He absently set the necklace on a passing tray. Then, slowly, he drew his own gold chain necklace over his head.

My heart leaped at the sight of the key, glinting beside the emerald-inlaid crest. The General’s Crest, Valeria had informed me when I’d asked.

“Perhaps,” he drawled, “this might be more to your liking.”

As I’d expected, he didn’t withhold the key from his offering. After all, this rose-and-thorn trinket, gifted by Erik, was only supposed to be a token of friendship. And Holden was too self-righteous to act like a schoolchild keeping hold of his favorite toy.

I shook my head, bashful. “I couldn’t, General. The jewel is far too precious.”

“Then it, along with the token from your own kingdom, should suit you perfectly.”

Perla tensed—for the sake of appearances, I knew, but I wondered if there was also some truth to her reaction. Because in handing me the key to Perla’s freedom as though it were a party favor, Holden was showing her just how little he valued her life.

And how little he worried about her ever straying from his rule.

I was reaching for the necklace when Holden said, “Allow me.”

He strode around me, positioning himself at my back, and I went still, my entire body prickling with dread.

Because if he swept my hair aside to clasp the necklace, he would see the dullroot scar at my nape.

I met Keil’s stare as Holden looped the chain over my head, my pulse racing at my throat. Keil’s jaw flickered, his eyes slightly wide with restrained panic. I held my breath as Holden dangled the key and crest in my eyeline, set both ornaments against the dip of my collarbone, and clasped the necklace over my hair.

Then I swiveled, too fast for him to free my hair from under the chain. “Thank you, General.” I adjusted the tresses myself, careful to hide my bare skin. “Shall we dance?”

He smiled, oblivious. It was only as he led me away that I noticed Finbar in a far corner, swirling a champagne flute and staring at Holden’s necklace around my throat.

With a cold, crawling sensation, I realized he’d been watching this exchange.

“Careful.” Holden swept me a little too forcefully into his hold, and I gasped, realizing he’d pulled me away from the archway of the lovers’ embrace once again. Pass under their arms, he’d said, and you risk losing your own love.

“You’re rather too careless with the fate of your romance,” Holden said, carrying me seamlessly into a dance. The key bobbed against me, reminding me that while I’d completed my first task, my role wasn’t over. So I kept looking over the crowd, noting those who danced with drinks in hand. “Can I assume,” Holden continued, “that you and King Erik are considering a long-distance marriage?”

At that, my attention snapped fully back to Holden. “I should warn you against assuming anything based on my clumsy footing, General.”