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Reeling, I yank my arm from Cyrus’s grasp, my flickering tenacity burning its wick fast. He doesn’t get to do this gently. “I’m not leaving.”

“I’m prepared to confess our kiss to my father, if that’s what it takes,” he continues, relentlessly calm. “He’ll send you away himself. I might have to do it anyway, if we want the Seer from Verdant. For once, it’s unfortunate that my father likes you so much, otherwise I wouldn’t need an excuse.”

I slap him—right across the glamour where I know he’d been injured. He staggers backward with a sharp hiss, red blooming across his cheeks.

“Fuck you,” I spit.

Retreating into the divining room, I slam the door in his stunned face.

I’m shaking now that I allow myself to breathe. I use my throbbing hand to palm away nascent tears.

I know that as a last resort, I could beg Cyrus to change his mind. If I played damsel in distress and crumpled sobbing in his arms, he’d sponge up my tears, apologize, and think himself so charitable for doing so, while I’d be a sorry thing indebted to him.

I’d rather ship myself across the sea in a crate.

I fill my lungs, in and out, until the shaking subsides, then pace the cold shadows of the divining room. If he tells his father…gods, I’d be ruined. I’m too much of a liability, especially with his wedding imminent.

We’re supposed to be an impossibility.

I can deny it. Cyrus kissed me; I don’t have to admit I kissed him back. I can hope King Emilius takes my side.

Hope—the thought startles a laugh out of me. It’s flimsy but it has to be enough.

And in the meantime, I will be irreplaceable. I had new visions of my tower and that menacing manor. Dark magic is afoot; I can figure out where it’s coming from. And then I will tell the king how to stop it.

I just need to stay a few steps ahead.

At my desk, I crack open my borrowed edition ofTraditions & Magics of the Woodagain with twitchy hands. Cyrus’s thank-you note slips out, and this time, I do fling it in the fire grate.

I reread the passages that talk about blood’s effect on theFairywood. Blood can make the Fairywood rot, but could it turn it into something else? My twisted dreams and these chimeric beasts—they’re like a corruption. More important, who or what could be behind it?

Humans with innate magic are rare as myth. I’m not sure if they’ve actually existed, except for Seers and our Sight. People have learned to extract magic from plants and haggle for magic from fairies, but I’ve never seen proof of anyone transforming that magic into something greater than its parts.

My thoughts slide toward the Fates themselves. What aretheycapable of? They don’t walk our physical plane, but they must direct the threads of timesomehow.

No one knows of the Fates’ utter delight when they spoke of the curse. That night they threatened me, they laughed over my demise, my helplessness. They demanded Cyrus’s life like it was nothing. Maybe they just wanted his life that was owed them, but I don’t trust they have anyone’s interest in mind except their own.

If the Fateswantthis prophecy of blood and war and rose-beasts to pass, what better way than to remove the prince at the heart of it?

I tip backward in my chair, juggling thoughts until my head hurts. All this guesswork to prove my worth when I shouldn’t have to.

When it might not even matter, because a single scandal could ruin me.

A voice echoes in my mind:You are worthy of so much more.

That Fate who last spoke to me—theycould help me, ifthey ever came back to talk. They were the only useful god out of them all. If only I could call on them myself.

I drum my fingers against my wooden seat as I slowly set all four legs of my chair on the ground.

Maybe I could.

Gods are probably as self-serving as all of us. People call their offeringstributesandgifts…as if they aren’t under at a least a little bit of duress when giving them. Bribes, more like it.

I am not above bribery.

And the Fates are probably starving with no one making sacrifices anymore.

Something in this tower must help me perform a ritual. I head back downstairs. Lady Raya clearly isn’t visiting tonight; I’ll do this instead.

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