I don’t understand.

I stare down at the ring in my hand. The dark pearl catches the light from the lanterns, and for a moment, it looks like it’s glowing. My eyes focus on that faint light while my mind tries to process what’s happening.

She gave back the ring. She said she won’t marry me.

No—she said she can’t marry me.

It takes me a moment to remember that I’m not alone, that an entire crowd of people is watching me. They’ve fallen completely quiet, and their silence rings in my ears. They’re all watching. Waiting. Only Reginald makes any sound at all. His laughter grates against my skull, echoing through my brain and intensifying the sharp pain I’m suddenly starting to feel.

He did this. He tricked Victoria into doing this.

But she made the final choice, the other part of my brain says. She knew the cost, and she was willing to pay it. She was willing to give this up after everything you’ve been through together.

And give it up for what?

Slowly, I turn and look at Reginald. He’s still laughing, and he slaps his hand against the hilt of his épée as if he can barely contain himself. He’s enjoying this far too much.

My fists clench at my side. It takes all my effort not to punch him right here, in front of all these people. But I don’t have time to get into a fight with this prick. I have to find Victoria.

I practically leap down off the platform. I must go after her. Most of the crowd is still stunned, but some move back, giving me space.

“Let me through,” I tell them. I must catch her. I must. Even if I have to tear the whole damn city apart.

The people part for me, but the crowd is too thick to let me move very quickly. I push my way through, mumbling an apology here and there, but as my desperation builds, so does my anger. Behind me, I can hear Reginald pause to catch his breath, and my anger is sharp and hot.

I try to shove the emotion aside. My focus must be on one thing and one thing only: finding Victoria.

When I finally get through the bulk of the crowd gathering around the dueling rings, I pause, scanning the roads for Victoria. People mill about, laughing and singing and enjoying the revelry. Many of them don’t even notice me—I doubt they would have noticed Victoria, either.

If I know her, she’s gone straight to the train station. I don’t pause to think for long—if she means to flee, she’ll do it as quickly as she can.

I turn down the road toward the station, running through the crowds of revelers and dodging street performers and food vendors. I push my way through the crowds, not caring if they think me rude. I’ll worry about that after I find her.

“Victoria!” I call. “Victoria!”

My voice barely carries above the noise of the festival. But I call for her anyway. People are starting to turn and look at me, but I run by before anyone can stop me or ask me what’s going on. All that matters is finding her.

I’m out of breath by the time I reach the train station, but I don’t even pause. I scan the line in front of the ticket desk and, when I don’t see her there, turn my attention to the platforms. I don’t see her.

I don’t have time to search every train…

I march over to the ticket window, going straight to the head of the line. The man at the front of the line starts to protest, but when he recognizes me, he cuts himself off.

“Your Highness,” he says with a quick bow of his head.

“Forgive the intrusion,” I tell him. “This is an emergency.” I turn to the man at the counter. “Sir, I need you to tell me if Victoria Simpson purchased a ticket here tonight.”

The man doesn’t seem to recognize the name, which worries me.

“Right away, Your Highness,” he says, tapping a few things into his computer. His typing is unbearably slow. I let out a long breath and try not to show my impatience. My hand tightens at my side, and something digs into my palm.

The ring. I’m still holding the damned thing.

Before anyone can notice, I slip it into my pocket. The station clerk finishes whatever he’s typing.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” he says. “No one with that name has purchased a ticket today.”

Damn it.

“Thank you,” I tell him, hoping he can’t hear the annoyance and desperation in my voice.

If she isn’t here, then where the hell is she?

When I leave the station, I look up and down the street. Where else might she have gone? I wasn’t lying when I told myself I’d tear the city apart to find her.

I spend the next two hours scouring the streets, scanning the crowd and stopping in various bars, restaurants, and shops. I stop every member of the Royal Guard I see and ask after her, but none of them have seen her. A couple of them give me pitying looks, and I know word of my very public humiliation has started to spread. When I see those looks, I feel as if someone has kicked me in the stomach—but I don’t let myself focus on that feeling for long.

But no matter how many people I ask or how long I search, I can’t find her.

Is it possible she just went back to the palace? If she means to flee the country, maybe she went back to gather her things first.

I could kick myself for not thinking of that sooner. That’s probably exactly what happened—I only pray there’s still time to catch her.

I’m at the base of the road that leads up to the palace when I run into Reginald again. Apparently he’s decided he’s ruined enough lives for the evening and is turning in for the night. But he takes one look at me and perks right up.

“Well, Andrew,” he says, grinning. “How does it feel to finally have the scepter back? And the Amhurst Valley? You’re a national hero!”

That smug look on his face is just too much. I couldn’t give a damn about the scepter or the valley anymore. If he’s cost me the only thing I want, the only thing I need…

He won’t get away with it, not this time.

His grin falls slightly. “What’s that look for?” he says.

I flex my fingers.

“Nothing,” I say casually. “It’s just that I noticed there aren’t any Royal Guards nearby at the moment.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Oh? You mean to have me arrested?”

“No,” I tell him. “It just means that this time there’s no one here to stop me.”

And before he’s able to respond, I hurl my fist at his face.