I shake my head fiercely. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I? Can you honestly tell me he’snotthe reason you’re at the palace?”
“You have no right to question my motivations!”
“Even when you’re in bed with the enemy?”
My cheeks flush and my fists clench at my sides. I don’t know what I am more angry about, his presumption or the fact that he is right. Not about the bedding, not the way he intends. But despite all our stolen time together, Finn is still the leader of the Frumentari. He would still hunt me if he knew the truth. And yet, Cygnus wasn’t there in the cottage. He doesn’t understand the way seeing Finn for the first time made something permanently shift in my chest. Cygnus doesn’t know what it is like to be in love.
And I won’t tolerate his judgment. Not now.
“Who I’m bedding is none of your business! And you can sit on your high horse and judge me, or be jealous, orwhatever, butyou’rethe one who chose to isolate yourself!You’rethe reason you’re alone!” I pause, fuming, but I’m not done. “This is about staying alive, for me. As you so kindly pointed out, I’m only safe at this castle as long as I have Finn’s fleeting attention. And unlike you, I don’t have a lifetime of learning how to blend in!”
His nostrils flare as I continue to rant.
“So I’m choosing what’s going to keep me alive,” I say, “and right now, it’s getting back to the palace before anyone starts asking questions. Since—in case you haven’t noticed—I’m not very popular.”
We appraise each other for a long moment. Two dueling forces of will in the darkness. I can sense Cygnus scanning me for weakness, evaluating me the way he would any challenging case in his hospital. I hate the calculated intelligence that’s working behind his eyes. He’s trying to predict my next move. I won’t let him.
Cygnus grinds out, “I’m not questioning your decisions.”
“Just judging them. Much better.”
“You can do whatever you want with Finn,” Cygnus snarls. “I don’t care. All I’m interested in is whether you’re committed to seeing this through.”
“Iam!” I take a deep breath, glaring at him. “If you want to stay here and wait for a monster to eat you,be my guest.That’s your prerogative. ButI’mgoing back to the castle.” I snatch up my things, shoving them into my pack.
“Fine,” Cygnus says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “We can come back at your leisure. No rush. It’s not like there’s a war going on.”
“Good.And when we finish these damn gates, you don’t ever have to see me again. Happy?”
I turn my back on him and stomp off into the darkness.
ur trek back to the entrance is thick with tense silence. Cygnus offers no apologies, and I quickly give up hoping for them. I’m expecting darkness when we emerge from the Everwillow. But when Cygnus and I finally get ourselves over the last ridge and step through the murky blue-green portal, we are momentarily blinded.
I curse, blinking to adjust to the sun. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know.” Cygnus shrugs, shading his eyes.
There’s something different about the atmosphere. I smell spices and roasting meat. The swan garden is as secluded as usual, but there’s noise carrying from closer to the castle, the rumbling, pleasant cacophony of many voices, layered with music and laughter.
Cygnus reaches the same conclusion I do. “We’ve been gone more than a whole day.”
It’s midsummer.
I cover my face with my hands, cursing. How could we have so completely lost track of time? Then I remember:Dante.He’s been alone since we departed. I left him some extra food, but not enough for more than a day of my absence. Remorse plunges through me as I picture the fox captive in my room, probably hungry and terrified. What’s become of him?
We hurry back through a side entrance of the castle. Cygnus splits toward his tower without so much as a goodbye. I jet toward mine, trailing muddy water across the painted floors and fancy carpets. I am far past caring.
When I climb the steps to the East Wing and turn onto my landing, I’m surprised to find my door ajar. Remembering the last time my room was ransacked, I jolt. “Dante?”
When I barrel through the door, it’s not just Dante I find. It’s a whole group of people.
My eye sweeps the room, absorbing the faces assembled: Damien, Roburn, Anna, Daisy, and several guards I don’t recognize. Finally, my gaze snags at the window, and the prince sitting by it who looks more exhausted than all the rest combined. Borderline haggard. Dante sits in his lap, perking at the sight of me.
“GodAlmighty.” Daisy surges forward, nearly collapsing as she hugs me. “We weresoworried about you!”
“What? I’m—I’m fine….” I try to wriggle out of her embrace and realize with some embarrassment that she’s weeping.
