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“You saw me but didn't say hello? I'm wounded, Miss Antonius.' Synton's voice was like a deep rumble of thunder in her ear as he finally dropped his hands but didn't step back. 'Perhaps I was getting the lay of the land. A lady must know where it's safe to step,' she quipped. 'Yet you're stepping all over my ego.' 'Forgive me, my lord. I had no idea you'd be so easily damaged.”

“Apologies for any insult this causes,' she said without peering out from around her easel, 'but I am not in the market for a husband, my lord. Please just go.' A beat of silence passed. With any luck, Vexley would be insulted by the bite in her tone and would turn right back around and leave for some faraway city at the edge of the world. 'Well, that's quite a relief considering I'm in want of a painting, not a wife.”

“Don't answer now, but I want to know if what you said then stands." "You'll have to be more specific. I said a great many things." "If I am still yours." He stilled. My words hung between us, heavy and lingering. Like his gaze. "If I am, I would tell you that you are mine. That I am choosing you as my husband. There is no one I'd rather confront my demons with, no soul I'd travel through Hell with. And no one else I want standing beside me when I go to the Shifting Isles tomorrow." He was quiet for a long moment, seeming to gauge my sincerity and weigh it against his own feelings. "And if I don't require time to think it over?" Thank the goddess.”

“It was a nice story, but most fairy tales had a dark side to them, especially when it came to a princess’s fate. “A footman or maid?” “I—I don’t believe anyone else is missing,” Lady Crenshaw said. “But Elizabeth wouldn’t… she’s such a good girl. She probably didn’t wish to ruin our trip. It’s not as if she’s a lower-class trollop.” I chomped down on my immediate response, face burning. If she were a he, I doubted they’d call her such names. And her station had nothing to do with the matter whatsoever. Plenty of less fortunate families had more class than Lady Crenshaw had just showed.”

“Don’t worry, this isn’t what your role in the finale is going to be. This is just for fun.” I seriously questioned their idea of a good time. Swinging from a tiny little bar more than twenty feet in the air seemed like certain death. How she managed it in beaded costumes with long trains was either a miracle or magic or both. Sebastián swung over from his side of the practice room, legs over the bar and arms extended outward, a wide grin on his face. As if he weren’t already talented enough with his contortions, now he was doing them in the sky. “Easy, see? All you have to do is let go.” “You’re all mad,” I muttered under my breath. “Absolutely mad.”

“You did this to him." Her anger was a blazing inferno, but her voice was cold, unfeeling. I'd never heard that tone from her. "If it makes you feel better, I was aiming for you." His low drawl didn't hide the fear I sensed coming from him. He'd realized the same thing I had-the true threat wasn't him and it certainly wasn't me. There was something far worse in these woods tonight. And I was wholly captivated. I kept my attention on Lore, sensing a chasm splitting inside her, growing wider the longer her anger simmered without an outlet. She was a geyser ready to blow. I released a small hiss as the next wave of ice moved through my veins. Lore didn't miss the barely audible sound, as if she was now attuned to the slightest shift in me. Her gaze darkened, like a shadow passing over the sun. "You shouldn't have missed.”

“There was nothing soft or forgiving in her face; there was hardly anything human in it. She wore a mask of vengeance that would make the fiercest archangels tremble if they dared to gaze upon it. She was a perfect nightmare. An inkling of recognition flickered in, but I couldn't sort out what was familiar. My sweet ray of sunshine who burned hotter than the surface of the sun when provoked. It seemed like I was the only one who admired her ferocity. I heard the Fae's boots catch on a rock as he stumbled back. It was the wrong move. Showing a predator any fear was the quickest way to ensure they attacked. Right now Lore was no different. I sensed the rising tide of power a moment before she detonated. "You hurt what's mine.”

“I laid facts out for you, Miss Wadsworth. You assumed I meant lover. You assumed he was untrustworthy, simply because of our professions. Your prejudice interfered with your ability to inquire further, to ask more specific questions, to separate fact from the fiction of your mind. You had the opportunity to clear everything up; I would not have lied to you. That was a choice you made, and did I benefit from it? Of course I did. I make no denial of the fact I’ve used this method on people before, and I will most certainly do so in the future. If you’re angry with anyone, it ought to be yourself as well. You created an illusion of the truth you wanted to see.”

“I sat on the bed beside my cousin, fiddling with the folds of my skirts. “About that… what in the name of the queen possessed you to run off with a man you scarcely know? I hope he didn’t spin you a story too good to be believable.” “Most stories are too good to be true. That’s what makes them enchanting.” “And dangerous,” I muttered.”