This time, the invitation is delivered personally by one of Prince Griffin’s men.

A knock at the door interrupts Helena from pinning my hair back. She jumps and mutters something under her breath, but when she opens the door, she takes a quick step back.

“Yes?” she asks, standing with her arms crossed.

“Good morning,” a servant says, his nerves carrying through the room. “Would her Royal Majesty care to join Prince Griffin for a walk around the gardens?”

Helena slips the door shut and turns to me. In a whisper she asks, “Do you want to see the prince?”

“Yes, of course.” It’s a feat to keep my excitement at bay, but I manage.

Still, Helena frowns but opens the door wider. “Her Majesty will meet him in the gardens as soon she’s finished getting ready for the morning.”

“Excellent,” the servant says.

Helena comes back to my side and heaves a sigh. I wait for her to say something, but she just picks up the last few remaining pins and sticks them into my hair, tucking away all of the flyaways. She smooths her hands over my hair one last time.

“Perfect,” she says, more to herself than to me.

I can’t get out of my seat fast enough and have to force myself not to fling the door open and sprint to the gardens. Instead of Prince Griffin, though, I open the door to find Nico standing there.

A moment passes, neither of us saying a word.

“Well?” He waves a hand forward, but doesn’t offer me his arm. Not that I’d expect someone like him to have manners.

We walk down the halls with that same stilted silence hanging over us. I don’t know what to say to him, don’t even know where I would start.

So, planning anymore regicide? Doesn’t exactly strike me as pleasant conversation.

Nico doesn’t look like the pleasant conversation type, regardless. Not that he isn’t handsome. Everyone in the court so far is beautiful, as though good looks are a prerequisite to living in the palace. Nico has the type of face I could see on a billboard advertising designer cologne.

“Something on your mind, Your Majesty?”

“Nothing,” I say, embarrassed at having been caught staring, but more embarrassed by what was on my mind.

“Prince Griffin asked you to breakfast last time, as well, didn’t he?”

“He did.”

“Did he allude to anything?”

I’m not sure what Nico means by that and my face must say as much, because he continues.

“Was there anything he let slip? Any misstep in his words?”

“About what?”

Nico furrows his brow and glances around the room. He takes two steps closer to me, so that we’re nearly shoulder to shoulder. I can feel the warmth coming off of him in waves. It’s jarring to think that someone I’ve completely written off as cold and unfeeling could actually be warm, even if only in flesh.

“I can’t say much about it now,” he says, voice pitched low. “But you should know what to look out for. If he says anything during your stroll, report it back to me.”

I have no idea what he’s talking about, no idea what I should look for, and no idea what Nico plans to do with that sort of information. Unless—

The thought nearly doubles me over.

Maybe killing one brother wasn’t enough. Maybe Nico and Messalina had planned to kill them both. And this time, I’ll have blood on my hands, too, if I don’t do something to stop it.

“Captain. I know the location isn’t ideal, but can you be a little more concrete?”

If there’s some sort of signal word or phrase, something that Griffin might say that Nico and Messalina already agreed upon to put the hit on Griffin, then knowing what to look for might be the difference between saving his life or finding another dead body in the morning.

“Your Majesty,” Nico says, voice laced with urgency. “This is a matter best discussed in private. Away from prying ears.”

The floor to ceiling windows leading into the garden come into view. Sunlight streams in, bisecting the carpet in thick stripes. I imagine Griffin, alone and unsuspecting, on the other side.

“Fine. We’ll find a time to talk later,” I say.

I’d rather not be in close quarters with him, but Nico and Messalina were in leagues. The chances of Nico hurting Messalina—hurting me—don’t seem likely. Griffin, on the other hand—well, making sure he doesn’t join Evren is my top priority.

“The Princeling has definitely been bold, asking for your time twice in as many weeks,” Nico says.

“Bold?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m sure he doesn’t seem to think it is.”

“What’s wrong with asking for my time?” I ask, sharper than I mean to.

Griffin is the only one who’s checked up on me, the only one who’s promised to make my safety a priority. Is it such a crime that he wants to spend time with me, the person who was closest to his brother, the person who was there when it happened?

Nico frowns at me. “Are you really asking that right now?”

“Yes,” I say. “I fail to see the problem.”

“Then there are a million other things you’d fail to see.”

It’s the way he says it—distracted, dismissive, like even insulting me properly isn’t worth his time—that makes my blood boil.

“Well, if I have things my way, there are a million things you’ll fail at, too.”

I don’t wait for his response, rushing forward. I reach the doors to the garden and push through. There, sitting on a stone bench, scanning over a piece of parchment, is Prince Griffin. Under the midday sun, he looks like he’s practically glowing.

He looks up and gives me a dazzling smile, and with it, my anger immediately vanishes.