Page 38 of This Is Not True Love’s Kiss

Ronan’s head snapped up at that. “I would rather die.”

“You wouldn’t,” I said, and Aoife snorted.

I whirled to face her. “Is something funny?”

“Here we go,” Ambrose muttered under his breath, but I didn’t miss the way he angled his body in front of me as if to shield Aoife.

Something burned in my chest at the sight of him feeling the need to defend her. It should be her husband defending her . . . but we’d never had a conventional marriage.

Aoife brushed her long hair over her shoulder. “Of course you would seek to tell someone else how they feel. He’s telling us he’d rather die than be made to stay a prisoner here any longer. And you’re trying to tell him he wouldn’t.”

My jaw locked. “Once he’s free, he’ll see that the wait was worth it.”

“And when will that be?” Aoife asked, fire sparking in her eyes. “You’re always so sure that you’re right, but you don’t get to decide someone else’s fate.”

Something in her tone made me pause. Her voice hitched slightly on that word: decide, and her cheeks were flushed red, and hands balled into fists at her side. This wasn’t about Ronan. She didn’t care about him. But I wasn’t sure it was about getting under my skin either, like I’d originally thought. She was upset for some other reason that I couldn’t quite understand.

Ambrose grabbed Aoife’s hand, and some of the tension in her body melted. I looked away, fists clenching, and I wasn’t sure why I even cared that Ambrose was comforting her.

“I have an idea,” Fargus said, and everyone turned to look at him.

“Why don’t we let him be a prisoner with some freedom?”

Wolfe raised his brows at the owl. “What does that mean?”

Ronan eyed the owl with interest. He didn’t seem shocked by the presence of the Fair Folk, but that wasn’t a surprise. He’d seen many Fair Folk when we’d infiltrated this city together over two years ago.

“He can be a prisoner in Fairwitch Isle. We let him go free.”

“What?” I asked.

“Absolutely not,” Aoife snapped.

Wolfe looked contemplative. “We could assign a guard to him. Make sure he’s always with someone. He could have some freedom so he’s not trapped in here any longer.”

Ronan’s eyes widened, and for the first time in two years, hope lit up his face.

I rubbed my jaw, not sure I liked this plan, but it was the more humane thing to do. The right thing to do. This man hated his life so much he was asking for death.

“I still think we should ready up the guillotine,” Sir Arthur said. “A nice public execution.”

“I don’t think it’s the worst idea.” Meera curled around Aoife’s leg, tail twitching behind her.

Other council members around the room nodded in agreement.

“We’ll do a vote, then,” Aoife said. “Everyone in favor, say aye.”

The room filled with “ayes.”

So it was decided. “Then let’s set the prisoner free.”

Aoife stepped forward. “Wait. Who’s going to guard him?”

CHAPTER 19

Aoife

The bell over Best Dressed jingled as I walked in, looking for my advisor and our prisoner.