Ariane groaned as she slowly came to. Her sight was bleary, and her tongue was dry and thick.

“Ariane? Ariane, can you hear me?”

The blobby shape that hung over Ariane eventually sharpened until she could make out facial features. “…Lucien?” she asked groggily.

“If you will allow me, Your Highness, I should check her over.”

“Yes, yes, of course!”

Lucien darted out of view and was replaced with a jolly man who smiled kindly at Ariane. It took her a few moments before she recognized him as Duval, Prince Severin’s barber-surgeon who had checked her over the last time the mages attacked.

“Can you feel this?” Duval asked as he pricked various parts of Ariane’s body.

“Yes.”

“How do you feel? Can you move your limbs?”

Ariane lifted her arms, noting the bandages that had been wrapped around her spider bites, then wiggled her feet. “Yes, everything feels in order.”

Duval poked and prodded her for a few minutes more, then nodded in satisfaction. “You are in fine health. All the same, you should not do anything strenuous for the rest of the day, and keep to bland foods the next few days. Also, you should be careful to keep your arms clean as long as the bites remain, but you shouldn’t experience any lasting effects.”

“Thank you for your aid,” Ariane said.

Duval smiled. “It was a mage with healing magic who purged your body of the spider venom. I only watched over your recovery.”

“Still, thank you.”

“Of course. Please call for me if you experience any unusual symptoms or pain.” He began picking up the tools of his trade and carefully arranging them in a leather bag.

Ariane’s eyes drifted over to Lucien, who was leaning against a wall and smiling. I had hoped he left while Duval checked me over. He’s going to be insufferably smug about having his curse broken by me, I can just tell.

“Come, let’s get some fresh air out in the gardens. I can call for tea out there,” Lucien said.

Duval lowered his eyebrows. “Bland foods,” he reminded the prince.

Lucien nodded. “Yes, I will make note of that. Thank you, Duval.”

“It was my pleasure. Good day, Your Highness, Mademoiselle.” The barber-surgeon bowed to both Ariane and Lucien, picked up his bag, and made his exit.

Ariane paused and waited for Lucien to say something smug.

“So…the gardens?” he asked, sounding surprisingly shy.

Arianne stood, blinking when the room veered for a brief moment.

Lucien was at her side faster than she thought possible. He reached for her elbow but paused instead of touching her. “Are you all right? Do we need to call Duval back?”

“I’m fine, and the gardens sound lovely,” Ariane said.

Lucien offered her his arm and a smile that made his blue eyes glow.

Ariane hesitated one moment before she tucked her arm into his and let him lead the way out of the room. What am I doing? He’s a prince. I can’t just trail behind him and become his designated social companion. I’m a maid!

She started to wonder if she should find Elle and ask her what her new duties would be for the remainder of the Summit, but she was rather distracted by walking next to Lucien—human Lucien, that was.

As a frog, she toted him everywhere. There hadn’t really been any line of conduct then. But now…and even though she had seen Lucien—as his princely self—many times before, it was different to walk side-by-side with him. He was taller than she thought, and he felt very steady. He also smelled…pleasant. Like a newly cleaned room—though there was a faint undertone of cedar.

Lucien guided Ariane from the hall onto one of the many balconies with steps that led down to the massive gardens. These happened to be, unfortunately, the same stairs where Ariane had hidden and spoken with Princess Elle after she first realized she loved Lucien.

“I’m so glad you are safe,” Lucien said as he led her deeper into the gardens. “My heart nearly stopped when you fainted from the spider venom.”

“What happened to the mages?” Ariane asked.

“They’ve been secured. It’s why we don’t have an entourage following us—though Severin still has double the amount of patrols and guards on duty as usual,” Lucien said.

“Did you find out who sent them?”

Lucien grimly shook his head. “No. They’ve been struck mute—by their own spell or some sort of curse; we cannot tell which. We do know, however, that both mages are drop-outs from the Veneno Conclave Academy. One of the mages who was here for the Summit recognized them. They never finished their schooling and dropped out of the Academy approximately a year ago.”

“They were students?” Ariane could hardly believe her ears. Veneno Conclave-trained mages went through vigorous schooling and ethics training. They were given more instruction only upon proving they were trustworthy and would uphold the Conclave’s strict moral code. Things must be worse than I thought. There have been mages who have been exiled from the Conclave, and sorcerers and the like who use dark sources of power and teach themselves…but Conclave students acting as assassins?

“It is worrisome. Severin fears the Conclave may be losing its grip on magic users. Carabosso—the mage who has been tormenting Sole—was exiled from the Conclave and supposedly had his magic cut off. Obviously—as exemplified by the curse placed on Princess Rosalinda—it didn’t work,” Lucien said.

“The Conclave is faltering.” The words tasted like ash in Ariane’s mouth. “Could that be why they aren’t sending out more help? They’re focused on this unexpected occurrence?”

“Possibly.” Lucien shrugged. “If they are, none of the mages who attended the Summit were told. I doubt the issue is very wide-spread—the pair of mages that attacked us are the first we know of. All it means is that it would be wise if we did not plan to depend upon the Conclave.”

Ariane stared up at the beautiful sunny sky, willing the fluffy white clouds and deep blue of the sky to cheer her up. I don’t know how those in positions of power bear it—learning all this bad news all the time…

Lucien cleared his throat. “I wanted to discuss us.”

Jumping chimney sweeps. Here it comes. Ariane bit her lip and pushed her shoulders back, mentally bracing herself.

“I am in love with you, just as you must be in love with me since you broke my curse. When should we get married?”

Ariane stopped walking. I must have heard that wrong. “I beg your pardon, Your Highness. What did you say?”

Lucien rolled his eyes. “You can’t return to calling me ‘Your Highness’ just because I’m human now. And I asked when we should get married. I don’t have a preference, though I imagine we might want to wait until next year, as dead-boring as that will be. Mother would likely kill me if we tried to hold it any sooner, I think.”

It took Ariane a few moments to truly understand what Lucien had said. “Wait a moment, stop, stop, stop.”

Lucien raised his brows. “What? Do you want a summer wedding instead?”

“No. I mean, it doesn’t matter—that’s not what I’m talking about!” Ariane sucked a gasp of air in and tried to think. Unfortunately, only one sentence could make it through the murk of her mind. Lucien just proposed to me—in the most arrogant, assuming way possible—but he proposed!

When Ariane finally risked glancing up at him, his mouth was set in a slight smile as he watched her with softened eyes.

“This is moving too swiftly,” Ariane said. “We’ve known each other for less than three weeks.”

“You doubt your love?”

“No,” Ariane said.

Lucien’s expression smoothed over so he looked like a statue carved from stone. “Then you doubt my love?”

“Of course not,” Ariane snapped. “Though it is a little shocking as I know you are self-serving. You would never propose marriage out of something like duty just because I broke your curse. You would be far more likely to preen over it in a mirror at night, praising your own charm and good looks.”

“I do not preen,” Lucien said.

“You absolutely do—I’ve seen it!” Ariane snorted. “It is merely that this is all very fast. Yes, I love you, Lucien. But we’ve been chained together for the duration of the Summit. I think it would be ill-advised to forge a lifelong relationship off such a short duration.”

“Time or location isn’t going to change my feelings for you, Ariane,” Lucien said. His smile was back, and the warmth in his eyes increased as he caressed her cheek with warm fingers.

Ariane nearly leaned into his warmth but instead shook her head and backed up. No! I cannot let him swindle me with his sweet looks! I must be strong! “Yes, I can believe that. You are just as mule-headed as I am. The problem is our lives. You live in the palace—which I clean.”

“You’re worried because you are a maid? Why? It won’t matter. I’m the prince—who will stop me from marrying you?”

You will, Ariane silently thought, when you realize what that means. “You are right; I am a maid. I know the best way to polish wood and clean glass. I can clean a room so it is fit for a queen, chase spiders, and know the different ways to polish silver, brass, and gold. What I cannot do is run a country.”

Lucien blinked.

He’s listening. “I barely understand Loire’s government, much less know all its laws. Putting a child on the throne will do you just as much good as it would be for me to become your queen.”

“You can learn. You’re smart, Ariane. If you attend my lessons with me, I’m sure you’ll be a fast student. Besides, my father will live for a long time yet, and we will have Severin and Elle!” Lucien’s smile was lazy this time. He again stepped closer to Ariane and tried to slide his hands around her waist.

Ariane hurriedly skittered away from his touch. If I let him lure me in with expressions of affection, I’ll never get this out—and the sly fox knows that! “But Lucien, do you really think Loire will tolerate a crown prince and princess who both have to attend lessons?” Ariane asked.

This made Lucien pause. After a moment, he shook his head. “It will be fine. Father let Severin marry Elle.”

Ariane pressed her lips together. “Severin and Elle are not a good counter-argument. The King is already concerned about you. He will not give you permission to marry a maid as long as he believes you will not be a competent ruler.”

“And Severin was already a competent military leader and a brilliant tactician before he met Elle,” Lucien said, his voice neutral.

Araine bit her lip again as she peered up at his stony face. Do I comfort him, or is it too risky? Eventually, Ariane’s soft heart drove her forward. She placed a hand on Lucien’s cheek. “You are brilliant as well, Lucien, but you so rarely show it. You cannot blame your father for perceiving something you hide deep within yourself.”

Lucien stepped into Ariane—though he refrained from touching her with his hands and instead leaned his head against hers. “You saw it.”

“Because you were within arms-reach for days,” Ariane said. “It might seem unfair, Lucien, but he is king. He must care for the entire country—just as you will one day. He must make a decision based on the information you have shared with him.”

Lucien placed his hands under her elbows and leaned back so he could look her in the eye. “Then I’ll give him new information. I’ll prove I really do know what they’ve tried forcing down my throat for years and drop my silly classes. I’ll show him I can be a competent leader, and then I’ll marry you.”

As Ariane studied Lucien, taking in the earnestness in his eyes and his happy grin, her heart squeezed in her chest. The mere fact that he’s made such a suggestion really does prove how much he loves me. He’s willing to give up everything he strove to hide just to marry me. What does he see in me that drives him to this kind of brash action? Giving up his incompetent cover was not something Lucien would lightly suggest. He had spent years hiding.

Ariane struggled to swallow and not to cry—no one had ever loved her so passionately that they were willing to entirely change their lives for her. It was rather humbling to experience. But I don’t know that he understands what it will mean. “I am very honored you say that.” She was proud her voice barely shook. “But Lucien…have you really counted what that will cost you?”

Lucien tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“It means you will have to rule. You will have to put yourself out and show that you are listening. The days when people expect less from you will be gone. You’ll be looked to for large-scale decisions. You won’t be able to write anyone off anymore by declaring you are bored or say you want wine—which I know is a distraction and a ploy you have managed to use against even Elle,” Ariane said.

Lucien slid his hands down her arms so he could intertwine his fingers with hers. “You’ll be worth it, Ariane. I love you. I don’t want to live without you.”

“But will you hate me when one day you become King, and the country will expect you to stand on your own?” Ariane asked.

She didn’t want to point this out to Lucien. She didn’t want to try and convince him not to marry her—even if he had been arrogant when declaring their mutual feelings. What she wanted to do was squeal yes and laugh and cry and kiss him.

But if there came a day when Lucien did hate me…it would break my heart. I don’t want him to be miserable; I want him to be happy. He has so convinced himself he is lesser, I’m not sure he could stand revealing his cleverness.

Lucien sighed, though he did not drop her hands. “I see your worry, but it’s nothing. I’ll throw myself into the government with all possible enthusiasm if it means I get you in the bargain, Ariane.”

It took every ounce of Ariane’s will not to throw herself at her charming prince and hug him. This is all still too fast. He needs time to consider it. If his intentions remain the same afterwards, I will believe he has the will. But making a quick decision now risks pain for both of us in the future…But I don’t want to say no! I love him!

“What can I do to prove it to you?” Lucien asked.

His words dusted the cobwebs of worry from Ariane’s mind, and she smiled. Time will show the strength of our relationship, so let’s buy time. “Before you speak to your father or mother about marrying me, before you take any steps towards bringing me into your world, I want you to display your true brilliance.”

Lucien rolled his eyes. “Brilliance? Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?”

Ariane licked her lips as she recalled the many hours they spent in the Summit. “During the meeting sessions, it was remarked multiple times that there had to be something—or someone—that was the cause of all the chaos and seemingly random attacks—a unifying factor.”

“Yes?”

Ariane met Lucien’s gaze with her own. “I want you to find it.”

Lucien furrowed his brows. “You want me to figure out what exactly is behind all of this—when the joint mind of all the representatives could not?”

“Yes,” Ariane said simply.

Between the meetings and the realization that the Conclave was not as steady as it appeared to be, even a commoner like Ariane knew things were grim. Severin needed help, and Lucien needed time to think.

It was the perfect compromise.

Moreover, in her heart, Ariane knew that Lucien could help. He was intelligent in a way his brother was not. And just as every representative had brought something forth (Princess Astra of Baris offered her courage, the Ringsted representatives offered steadfastness, the Arcainian family knowledge), Ariane was positive Lucien could add something others could not. She couldn’t place her finger on what it was, but she truly believed that Loire—and the continent—needed him.

And if, after puzzling out the unifying factor, Lucien decided that despite their love he could not take the scrutiny, he would surely be able to convince everyone Severin had done it all.

Though I would be lying if I said I didn’t hope for the opposite.

Lucien’s brow was still furrowed as he looked at the ground.

Ariane—shaking a little—dared to place a hand on his chest and smooth a wrinkle in his shirt. “I’m not asking this of you because I wish to dissuade you, Lucien. You are right: I do love you. That is the reason for my request. I want you to succeed. I merely want you to see if this future is something you will truly be comfortable with.”

Lucien studied her with heart-stopping intensity. Ariane had thought she detected intelligence in his frog eyes, but it was far stronger as he stared at her as a man, his narrowed eyes and the thoughtful slant of his mouth making the impression even stronger.

He nodded once. “Very well.”

“You’ll do it?”

Lucien snorted. “Of course. Do you really think I would give you up over such a small thing?” He briefly rested his forehead against hers. Then, before Ariane could protest, he kissed her on the cheek, purposely aiming so his lips touched the corner of her mouth. “I’m afraid to say, though, you won’t see me much until I conquer this task. I don’t intend to let this drag on.”

Ariane laughed. “I see.” She placed her hands on his cheeks—both in affection and to keep him from kissing her again. If I let him really kiss me, I just might take back my little test, and I can’t let that happen! “You will do well, Lucien. I know it.”

Lucien peeled one of her hands off his cheek and kissed it, pressing his lips to her fingers until Ariane felt herself turning beet red and tugged her hand from his grip.

Lucien laughed, then turned around and hurried back towards Chanceux. “Remember—you promised,” he shouted over his shoulder.

When he disappeared from the gardens, Ariane dazedly wandered over to a stone bench and plopped down on it.

“Well,” she said. I guess all I can do now is hope.

* * *

Lucien strode down the hallway that led to Severin’s personal study, mentally calculating what Rangers were available, and what books and additional materials he needed.

“Your Highness,” Henry said, appearing from the shadows.

Lucien glanced at his valet. “Did you need something, Henry?”

“Your brother has hopes that since Mademoiselle Ariane has woken, you will join the representatives in the Summit,” Henry said.

“Not a chance,” Lucien said. He expected some sarcastic comment—Henry excelled in being passive-aggressive—and was not wholly disappointed.

“You are setting an unusually fast pace. Is there a tailor you are anxious to see?”

Lucien released a bark of laughter. “No. I’m merely in a hurry for the foreseeable future. Summon Farand and send him to Severin’s study immediately,” Lucien said, naming the leader of his Rangers.

“Is something the matter, Your Highness?” Henry asked.

“No, I merely have a task to puzzle through.”

“I see. I will call for tea, then. Or perhaps something stronger?”

“Tea is fine, thanks.” Lucien glanced at him when the valet nearly walked into a suit of armor. “War wound bothering you?”

“It is merely that I have never heard you turn down liquor. Are you certain you aren’t experiencing any side effects from your time as a frog?” Henry asked with the seriousness of a sword.

Lucien chuckled. “I’m fine, but your concern is noted. Farand, now. Thank you.”

Henry bowed, then turned on his heels and set off in the opposite direction as Lucien marched on towards Severin’s study.

In his late-night musings after the Summit meetings, a rather odd observation had occurred to Lucien: though all the countries had used their extensive intelligence networks, not one—Lucien’s Rangers among them—had caught even a whisper of whatever was uniting the forces that so greatly opposed everyone.

Rulers always knew who their enemies were—or they should if they were at all smart.

Granted, they often pretended not to know who had sent assassins or who was planning an invasion (as Lucien’s experience with Arcainia had proven), but they always knew who was involved.

That no one could flush up a scent told Lucien something: it was not a matter of battle tactics or excellent agents. Severin would have found them out by now if it were so.

Which means it is not a matter of war, but of global power. And obviously no one can pinpoint the source. This meant Lucien’s best hope—as little as he liked it—was to search the continent’s history.

History, as Scholar Pierre had said, endlessly repeated itself.

Which meant there had to be a clue somewhere in the past that would give Lucien a new starting point. He very much doubted history would tell him exactly who was responsible—if it did, in fact, it was not a good sign—but if it could give him a different angle to search from, Severin might be able to find something new.

Lucien already had several calculated guesses about their foe he had planned to discuss with Severin after the Summit, but Ariane didn’t need to know that. He just had to see if he could find anything to prove his conjectures.

He blew into Severin’s study without hesitation, instantly pouncing on Severin’s bookshelves. It was filled mostly with military information, but he had some excellent history books. Lucien plucked several from the shelves, then set them down on his desk directly next to the journal of the ancient Verglas King with the funny name—Steinar.

Lucien glanced at it for a moment, then pushed it aside so he could open the first book. He rolled up the sleeves of his fancy linen shirt and popped the top two buttons open. If I’m going to be stuck researching like a library trainee, I may as well be comfortable. Because I’m not giving up—no matter how many weeks or months this takes.

Ariane had asked for the unifying factor behind whatever darkness was crawling across the country, and Lucien was going to find it for her.

* * *

After her conversation with Lucien, Ariane was at a loss as to what she should do. So, she returned to what she did best: cleaning.

Although more and more of the representatives left, the Summit was still considered in process. Ariane thought she was being very discreet when she reported back to Heloise and asked for new duties. The housekeeper refused. It took a full day of Ariane pleading her case until Heloise gave in and assigned her several salons to see to—most likely to shut Ariane up than for any real purpose. But she wouldn’t give her back her maid’s uniforms, so she had to work in the day dresses provided by Elle.

Ariane’s preferred salon was filled with musical instruments—the giant harp and arrangement of lap harps being her favorite. She didn’t dare touch the instruments—though she wanted to, for they needed a good cleaning—but she enjoyed the sight of them all the same.

She was rolling up a rug to drag outside the music-themed salon when Elle descended on her four days after she and Lucien had talked.

“You don’t have to clean anymore, you know.” Elle appeared rather suddenly in the doorway, making Ariane’s heart stop.

She quickly dropped into a curtsey. “Am I no longer allowed to?” Ariane asked when her heart returned to its normal pace. She had wondered how Severin and Elle would react to Lucien’s news—for he surely wouldn’t keep it a secret from them. They are too honorable to shun me, which is why I thought they might forbid me from cleaning and begin to try to draw me into their company. Very lovely of them, but also very dangerous if Lucien decides he cannot stand the pressure.

Elle laughed and flopped down in the settee, then muffled a big yawn. “Good heavens, no. Are you joking? I, more than anyone, know that old habits die hard, and sometimes it’s very comforting to return to what you know. Do whatever you like! I only wanted to be sure you understood we weren’t expecting you to work as a maid anymore.”

Ariane twisted the rag she had been using to buff spots off portrait frames. “What else can I do, if I am not a maid?”

“You mean what is your role now?” Elle asked.

Ariane nodded.

“I imagine you will not accept future-princess as a suggestion?”

Ariane sighed. “He told you?”

Elle laughed. “He had to. Severin was worried something had gone wrong with his transformation back into a human when he entered his study and found Lucien surrounded by towers of books. You should be proud, Ariane. You have managed to do the one thing no one else in Loire could and induced that pig-headed sop into working.”

Ariane shrugged.

“It’s been very eye-opening,” Elle said after a few moments of silence. “I always knew Lucien was smart—he couldn’t run the Rangers so well otherwise. But the questions he has come up with and the way he searches through books…he is much more intelligent than I gave him credit for.”

“I think he counts on that,” Ariane said. “He is afraid of disappointing people, of being considered a failure.”

Though Elle’s gaze was on Ariane, her eyes seemed to go right through her. “It’s sad. The fear of failure seems to be a vice that cripples many. What they don’t realize is that failure is inevitable, but it is not a horrible thing. It may be painful and hurtful, but if you are unwilling to risk, you will never experience the glory of what you could be.”

Ariane shifted uncomfortably, realizing the thought applied to both herself and Lucien. Fear of failure hadn’t been something that had previously bothered Ariane, but now she had something to lose: Lucien. It was why she had requested Lucien’s test, why she was afraid he would one day regret loving her. It was awful and frightening, and it was partially why Ariane was back to cleaning, for she didn’t want to think about the possible outcomes of the future.

And Lucien has lived with this sort of weight all of his life. Incredible.

“You’ve done a great thing, Ariane,” Elle said. “And I believe it means more than you know.”

Ariane forced a smile to her face as she picked up an empty bucket she had used to water the potted plants. “You mean I have proven Lucien has what it takes to be king?”

“No. I mean it proves you are a worthy partner for him.”

Ariane dropped her bucket. “I beg your pardon?”

Elle arose with a smile. “Knowing that you love him and seeing your reaction, I can deduce that this is not an attempt to push him away, but a calculated test. You showed solid, sound judgement.”

Ariane hesitated. “Do you really think so?”

“Yes.” Elle moved to the door but lingered in the frame. “You may not think yourself a good candidate, and perhaps you aren’t. But neither is Lucien. Marriage is about the whole—not the two pieces that make it up. If you grow sick of cleaning, feel free to join Emele in the gardens—though it can be awkward to watch her flirt with her husband, Marc. Otherwise, you could always join us in the few remaining meetings…or watch Lucien.” She winked and was out the door.

Ariane rolled her eyes. “Your Highness!” she shouted loud enough for the princess to hear.

“Ah-ah! It’s Elle! And no matter what you do with your days, I shall expect to see you for tea and all meals!” Elle chortled her way down the hallway, soon fading from hearing range.

Ariane shook her head and leaned against the settee. “Chanceux Chateau really is a strange place.”

* * *

“Farewell—thank you again for hosting us!” Gabrielle—the beautiful princess from Arcainia, smiled as she embraced Elle. The Arcainian representatives—who were among the last remaining attendees—were finally setting out for their homeland.

“Thank you for coming! You must return sometime if Nick and Mikk are coming to speak to Severin,” Elle said.

Ariane smiled fondly as she watched the exchange. Elle got along well with many of the women who had attended the meeting, but she and Crown Princess Gabrielle seemed to have a special understanding. (Perhaps it was their commoner birth or their background in fighting?)

Gabrielle had always been the most excited to attend tea when—in the last few days of the Summit—Elle and Severin had split the guests, and Elle brought the ladies to her private salon for refreshments. (Ariane attended the teas as well, mostly because Elle’s lady’s maid followed her endlessly until she agreed to.)

“And you, Mademoiselle Ariane. Take care—it was a pleasure getting to know you!” The Arcainian beauty swept Ariane up in an unexpected embrace, squeezing her tightly.

“Thank you?” Ariane didn’t really know quite what to say, but she returned the embrace and was rewarded when Gabrielle stepped back and bestowed a beautiful smile on her as well.

“If the two of you ever wish to visit Arcainia, please come! If you don’t want to hang about Castle Brandis, I would gladly spirit you away to Carabas—my march,” Gabrielle added.

Elise, the less-talkative foster daughter of King Henrik, affectionately squeezed Elle’s hands and then Ariane’s. “Indeed, if you wish to see Gabi again, you might very well have to come to Arcainia. I don’t think Steffen is inclined to let her leave Arcainia without him.”

The sparkle in Gabrielle’s eyes dimmed slightly. “He took Clotilde’s brief rule over Arcainia very poorly. Perhaps almost as bad as King Henrik.”

Elise looped her arm through Gabrielle’s. “But all is well now—and the carriage awaits. We need to return home to begin putting our plans into action. Thank you again, Your Highness, Mademoiselle, for your hospitality.”

Ariane opened her mouth to object—for she really had no part in hosting them—but was forestalled by Gerhart, Elise’s younger brother, when he strolled up to the ladies. “You cannot fool me, Elise,” he said. “You are merely anxious to return home because you yearn for your lover boy.”

Elise blushed. “Gerhart!”

Gabrielle brushed a tendril of her honey-crème hair out of her face. “I would guess he is awaiting even more anxiously for you. Very well, let’s go. Puss!”

Puss—who had been sitting with Prince Nickolas and Mikkael as they said their farewells—turned around and narrowed his cat eyes at her. “I know my ears must have deceived me, for you would never whistle at me like some sort of hoyden farmer’s brat, Gabrielle.”

Gabrielle laughed as she approached her horse and swung up on its back. “Come, Puss. We’re leaving—unless you want to tarry for a few weeks?”

“You are so ungrateful!” the cat complained as he picked his way across the courtyard. “It’s rather disappointing—I did not raise you to have the manners of a street urchin.”

“You didn’t raise me at all.”

“Silence! Your impudence has grown beyond what I will tolerate. Now pick me up.” Puss sat down by the horse’s hooves and looked up at Gabrielle, his half mustache twitching.

“Safe travels,” Ariane ventured to say to Elise.

The brown-haired princess smiled. “Thank you. I wish you luck in all your endeavors until we meet again.” Elise nodded to both Elle and Ariane before she climbed into the nice-looking but rather unembellished carriage.

Gerhart performed a sweeping bow. “Your Highness, Mademoiselle.” He winked, then joined his foster sister in the carriage.

Ariane watched Prince Mikk pick up Puss—who had, up until that moment, been locked in a staring match with Crown Princess Gabrielle—and plop him into a saddlebag on Gabrielle’s horse. Do they know about Lucien and me? Why else would they be so…friendly? She stood a little straighter and smiled to try to fight off a slight blush. Now that I think of it, our story is the stuff of songs and ballads—disdain turned to love and all that…. But does that mean everyone who attended the Summit knows? Or at least has guessed? Gads, that would be embarrassing.

A week had passed since Ariane had turned Lucien into a man again and challenged him to find the source of the darkness. She barely saw snatches of him, for he didn’t come to any of the formal meals. Instead, he pounced on her usually when she was on her way to meet Elle and the other royal ladies. Often, he grumbled incoherently into her shoulder as he leaned against her, then went tearing off to the library or Severin’s study for another book.

I hope he does not drive himself mad over this…maybe I should speak to him about it.

Though she was touched he was taking the matter so seriously, it occurred to Ariane that perhaps this showed no one knew how brilliant Lucien was—including himself—as Ariane had never expected this kind of single-minded determination.

“We’ll be in touch,” Crown Prince Steffen said to Prince Severin. “Mikk and Nick will most certainly serve as our main military contacts, but when we settle on more, we’ll send word.”

Colonel Friedrich nodded. He was the last remaining representative; the King of Torrens and Rider Nareena had left the day after the Ringsted Representatives, and Princess Astra of Baris and Queen Linnea of Verglas had made their departure not two days ago. “We’ll prepare as much as we can until we know for sure what we’re up against.”

Prince Nickolas vaulted on top of his horse’s back. “If we even knew what sort of evil we faced, it would make preparations easier. But until we get some new intelligence, this is the best we can do, I reckon.”

“Thank you.” Prince Mikkael shook Severin’s hand before he also mounted his horse.

“I’m grateful you’re willing to organize us all, Severin.” Crown Prince Steffen took the reins to his mount when a servant brought the horse to him. “Thank you. And I apologize for our…misunderstandings in the past.”

Severin bowed his head. “I am just as thankful you are willing to overlook said misunderstandings as well.”

The crown prince of Arcainia gave Severin a quick grin. “You’re a great man. We’ll be in touch!” He swiftly mounted his horse, patting it on the neck when it tossed its head and pranced over to his wife and brothers who were arranged around the carriage. “Farewell!”

Elle joined Severin, who slipped his arm around her waist as the pair waved.

“Goodbye!” Gabrielle—the last in their little train—called. When she specifically looked at Ariane, Ariane broke the usual protocol for a maid and waved to the princess.

“Right, I believe we are cleared out, now, yes?” Elle asked.

“If you mean all the royal guests have left, we are still hosting Colonel Friedrich for a few days more,” Severin said.

Colonel Friedrich grinned and ambled up to the pair. “I apologize, Elle. You can’t be so easily rid of me! I, unlike the rest of the nobles, have no duties to drag me home.”

Elle snorted. “You are the Prince Consort.”

“Yes, but Cinderella, as Queen, does all the ruling. I am far too shy with my reserved temperament.” Colonel Friedrich’s grin turned sly as he bowed playfully.

“Either way, you don’t matter,” Elle declared. “You’re also a military fellow—like Severin—and all our remaining guests are mages who have been living with us long enough to have semi-permanent rooms. That means I may return to my normal schedule!”

“You will not go out under Lucien’s orders to search for the identity of our enemy,” Severin rumbled.

“Of course! I don’t know why you would think I would do such a thing! Because I was definitely not going to do that,” Elle said with the innocence of a summer sky. “I was going to focus on…bonding with Ariane! Yes, I have to foster a sisterly relationship with her.”

Ariane, who had started for the door, paused. “Your—Elle?” she said in a half-strangled voice.

“What—were you trying to keep that a secret? I hope not—if so, you should have told Lucien, for he has done little besides research history and recite bad poetry about you,” Elle said.

Ariane gaped at her. She is exaggerating. Unless Lucien has worked himself even harder than I thought and is starting to lose grasp of his mind?

“He does not recite bad poetry about you, Mademoiselle Ariane,” Severin said gravely.

Elle started to pick pins out of her hair so her long tresses fell down her back. “Then what do you deign to call it when he says, ‘her voice is akin to a choir of angels’?”

“Elle,” Severin growled.

“Good poetry?” Colonel Friedrich suggested.

“It is likely a sign that he should sleep more,” Ariane said.

Elle laughed so hard she had to lean into Severin for support. “I do so love you, Ariane. I’m so glad it’s going to be you. Come, let’s see if we can scare up Gemma and go for a ride. We all deserve a break after the chaos of the Summit.”

Ariane was going to refuse—she and Lucien weren’t yet a solid…thing…so it seemed a little presumptive to be so informal with Elle. The only problem was that she rather liked horses and so rarely got to ride.

Elle, sensing her weakening will, pulled away from her husband. “Have you ridden at all before?”

“A little,” Ariane admitted.

“Wonderful! A ride is just the thing, then! I imagine Gemma would be happy for the break, as well. The poor thing hasn’t stopped sewing cloaks and capes since I mentioned the spelled garment she made for me and how well it has helped me with…walking.”

“You were going to say spying,” Severin rumbled.

“If you say that at a little deeper tone, you’ll sound like a fierce forest cat!” Elle said brightly.

Severin rolled his eyes, but he leaned in to kiss his wife on the cheek. “Go. But take a squad of soldiers with you.”

Colonel Friedrich waved. “Have fun, ladies!” He turned to Severin. “I assume we’re going to sequester ourselves in your study with Prince Lucien?”

“Yes, he’s turned up some new information I would like to go over…”

Ariane’s heart squeezed at Lucien’s name, and she hesitated even as Elle led her away. I have turned into a true, silly maid, sighing over my love. But I am proud of him. No matter what he decides to do after this, he has proven he is capable.