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I grimaced as he left the room, his words stinging more than he realized. He said it as if it were inevitable—as if Cerise had no choice in the matter.

Which was exactly what she was afraid of.

Maybe it was better that she pushed me away. At least it meant she kept her free will.

“It’s not like that, and you know it,” snapped Tavik. “Lunaria never takes away a Mage’s right to choose their path.”

“Cerise doesn’t see it that way. She doesn’t even worship this goddess. How do you think she feels, knowing some entity she knows nothing about has predetermined her fate for her?”

I rose to my feet, my body aching everywhere as if I’d just finished training with my soldiers. I massaged my temples, trying to ward off a throbbing headache.

Everything hurt, and I could do nothing to fix it. Because the only remedy was Cerise. Without her, my soul was mourning.

“You aren’t taking care of yourself, Alaric,” Tavik said. “You need rest.”

“And you need to stop mothering me.”

I strode to the wash basin and splashed water on my face, the cool water against my skin jolting my senses.

The door burst open, and Stover hurried in, his face pale and his eyes wide with terror. “Your Majesty.” He bowed quickly. “You must come to the Great Hall immediately.”

At the note of urgency in his voice, I didn’t hesitate. I followed him out of my chambers, hurrying past the hall and down the spiral staircase.

A babble of voices resonated from the Great Hall before I reached it. Unease prickled through me. What was a crowd doing here without my knowledge?

Then, I heard Chief Gorem’s booming voice.

“My lords and ladies, we all know this is unacceptable behavior for a king. Regardless of his naïveté and common upbringing, the Mage King should adhere to certain standards. And Alaric is not qualified to fill King Nolan’s shoes.”

Shouts of agreement rose up from the crowd. My hands curled into fists at my side, and I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw cracked. Behind me, Stover’s breath hitched, and he wrung his hands together nervously.

“He has allied himself with witches!” Chief Gorem cried. “He has forsaken his people for a witch temptress. Something must be done, lest the witch clans descend and our kingdom falls into ruin.”

My rage boiled over, and I stormed into the Great Hall before I could think better of it.

“If you have something to say to me, Gorem,” I bellowed, spreading my arms, “then say it to my face.”

The crowd instantly went quiet as every Mage turned to face me. Some had fear on their faces, as if worried I would imprison or execute them just for being here. But others looked upon me with untethered loathing.

I strode farther into the room, pushing past the throng of people to make my way toward the dais where Gorem stood. Chief Ramathos stood next to him, which was no surprise. His lip curled, a look of savage triumph on his face.

“You haven’t even been king for a week and already you’ve shown us you aren’t equipped to lead,” Gorem snarled, jabbing a finger toward me. His face was twisted with disgust. Never before had he looked at me like that.

The Mages around me shouted their assent, some raising their fists into the air.

“Because of one witch?” I demanded incredulously. “Is our kingdom so fragile that the presence of one witch is enough to topple it?”

“It isn’t just the witch,” Ramathos interjected. “It is your priorities, Alaric. On more than one occasion, you have placed this witch above the needs of your people.”

“Her life was in danger,” I growled. “The situation was dire.”

“And if a Mage, if one of your own, was in grave danger, would you have abandoned this witch in order to help?” Gorem challenged.

I ground my teeth together, nostrils flaring. Because if I spoke, everyone would be able to scent the lie.

“Tell them,” Tavik urged. “Tell them Cerise is one of us!”

“I can’t. Look at them, Tavik. They won’t listen to reason. Even if she had given me permission, exposing her true identity would only make them angrier. They would feel deceived.”