“Who told you?” I demand, seeing no reason to deny it. She knows what she knows. Sees what she sees. The story is clear.

“Does it matter?” She arches her brow and roams around the room, surveying the place and everything in it as though she has some sort of personal claim to it. Taking a moment to appraise a picture, straighten its frame, before fixing herself at the edge of the rumpled, unmade bed where her eyes continue to blaze as her small pink mouth pulls into a tight angry frown.

“It matters,” I say. “In fact, I expect it will matter very much to Alrik. I’m sure he’d like nothing more than to know the name of the one who betrayed him.”

She continues to glare at the bed before casting her gaze my way, saying, “Well, in that case, it was Fiona.” She lifts her shoulders, easily giving her sister, my cousin, away. “You know she’s had her eye on Master Rhys for some time now, and so she made sure to befriend his latest domestic conquest. Some daft little dairymaid from what I hear. It was quite crafty of Fiona, I must say, and she did manage to learn all she could.” She quirks her mouth to the side, as though she finds it all terribly amusing, but not something she prefers to dwell on for long. “Anyway, as it turns out, our dear Rhys likes to talk in his… sleep… so to speak, or at least according to his latest bedmate. And so, Fiona, being the good sister she is, couldn’t wait to fill me in on your very happy news. Of course I didn’t believe her at first. You’ll have to forgive me, Adelina, but the thought of you and Alrik together is simply ludicrous, now, isn’t it?”

She looks at me, her eyes flashing as though she fully expects me to nod my agreement, and when I don’t, when I just continue to stand before her with my mouth grim, eyes narrowed, and arms folded before me, she sighs and says, “But the way she insisted, well, I decided to come see for myself. But all I see here is one very mussed bed and one very sad, very pathetic, incredibly naive girl who seems to have fallen for the oldest trick in the book.” She shakes her head and tsks, her tongue repeatedly tapping the roof of her mouth. “Really, Adelina, just how pathetic are you? Gladly forfeiting your virtue with the false promise of a ring on your finger. A ring that, I’ve no doubt, Alrik never intended to give you.” She slants her eyes and looks me over. “Not a very smart move, cousin. Not smart at all.

You do realize you have willingly, stupidly, ruined yourself for good. You’re spoiled. Used up. No one will ever want to marry you once the word gets out. Hell, you’ll be lucky if that lovesick Heath will have anything to do with you. Nobody enjoys dipping into seconds, cousin, if you know what I mean?”

“You need to leave.” I straighten my back, square my shoulders, having heard enough of her insults, and not wanting Alrik to return and find us like this. There’s no telling what he might do.

But Esme will have none of it. She’s not going anywhere. She remains rooted in place, lips curling into a sardonic smile that perfectly matches the look in her eyes.

“You need to leave now, before the maid gets here and before Alrik returns,” I say, hoping that’ll be enough to convince her.

But she just scoffs. “Oh, no need to worry about that.” She checks her nails, runs a hand over her coif of red hair. “The maid won’t be getting here anytime soon, if ever. From what I hear it seems she’s had a little detour. And as for Alrik…”

I swallow. Hold my breath. Wait. A horrible feeling creeping over me, knowing before she can say it, that she’s done something bad, found a way to thwart all our plans.

Her words confirming my worst suspicions when she says, “I expect the king is giving him a stern talking-to now. Sorry to break it to you, Adelina, but it seems that your little secret is out, and as for your marriage, it seems that it’s over before it could start.”

I turn away. Struggle to breathe. Having no idea how to respond to anything she just said. I should’ve known. Should’ve known it was too good to be true. Should’ve known Esme would find a way to barge in, interfere; it’s what she’s best known for.

“The only question that remains now is what will become of you?” She moves until her eyes find mine, her gaze betraying her words.

There’s no calculating, no pondering, she knows exactly why she’s come, what she plans to do, and has no intention of leaving until she sees it all the way through.

Her eyes narrowing, glistening as she raises her arms, reaches behind her, and secures her hood up over her head.

Her black velvet cloak an exact replica of the one in my dreams.

The one I mistook as a mere symbol of death.

Never once thinking that I should take it literally.

Never once thinking it would be the last thing I’d see before my whole world dropped out from under me.

Chapter nineteen

I am cold.

Hurting.

My only source of warmth coming from a trail of something slippery that streams down my face, causing my eyes to burn and sting and a coppery taste to loll over my tongue.

Blood.

My blood.

It must be. Esme never had a chance to shed any.

She was too quick. Too focused. Too sure of her intent. And I was woefully unprepared to handle her.

Despite being warned by the dream, I never stood a chance.

Never imagined she’d be the one to bring me my death.

And now, after arranging it to look like an accident, she’s gone.

Leaving me to fall deeper and deeper into a never-ending pool of blackness.