“Don’t touch me,” I warned. “We’re done here.”

“What are you saying?”

“What do you think? You think I’m going to smile and forgive all this? I can barely forgive my parents, and I’ve known them my whole life. I’ve barely known you for a month. That doesn’t really count for much.”

He flinched. The hand on my shoulder dropped.

“I see,” he said stiffly, face darkening. “Then I guess we are done here.”

“Yeah.”

We stood staring at each other, and where heat once had smoldered between us, only a lonely chasm remained. I turned on my heels and stormed across the room without even knowing where I went. Eager men approached me, but I brushed past them all, apparently showing the arrogance Shaya had said was expected of me. I just couldn’t face them right now.

It was too much. All of it. The crazy propositions. My so-called legacy. Aeson and Jasmine. Maiwenn and Kiyo.

Oh, God, Kiyo. Why had he done this to me? I’d tried to write him off after our first night together, and he’d made me care about him again. Now it only hurt twice as much. The words from last night came back to me.

You’re mine.

Apparently not.

I stopped in the middle of the crowded ballroom floor with no clue where I was going. I’d gotten disoriented somehow and forgotten where the exit was. The throne was over there, so that meant “Yo, Odile. Some party, huh?”

My navigation attempts were interrupted by Finn’s approach. I still hadn’t adjusted to seeing him in his more humanlike Otherworldly form.

“Finn! I need you to get me out of here.”

He frowned. “You can’t leave yet. Etiquette says-”

“Fuck etiquette,” I snarled. “Get me out. I want to be alone.”

His standard cheery expression faded. “Sure thing. Come on.”

He led me not toward the main doors but rather to a small doorway tucked near a corner. Delicious smells wafted out from inside. This was some sort of back way to the kitchen. A number of scurrying servants gave us startled looks as we passed through twisting corridors and banks of ovens, but Finn moved with purpose, never breaking stride. People tend not to question if they think you know where you’re going.

With a flourish, he gestured me to a small alcove far from the bustle of the cooks. Hooks with cloaks and coats covered the walls, and I realized this must be where the staff had stashed their personal things. A small bench sat below the hooks.

“Good enough?” Finn asked.

“Yes. Thank you. Now go away.” I sat down and wrapped my arms around myself.

“But shouldn’t I-”

“Just go, Finn.” I could hear the tears in my voice. “Please.”

He gave me a mournful, almost hurt look and then walked away.

The tears took a long time to come, and even then, they did so reluctantly. Only a couple streaked down my cheeks. I had felt helpless with the mud elemental, but this was a different kind of helplessness, one with mental, not physical, consequences.

My heart ached inside for Kiyo, and my stomach burned with fury against Aeson. Neither ailment looked to have a remedy anytime soon.

I don’t know how long I sat there before Dorian came. I could only make out his shape in my periphery, but the scent of cinnamon gave him away. He sat down beside me for a long time, saying nothing. Finally, I felt his fingertip gently run along my cheek and wipe away one of the tears.

“What can I do?” he asked.

“Nothing. Not unless you’ll let me break hospitality and go do some damage.”

“Ah, sweet one, if that were possible, I would have long since strangled several of my nobles, lest I be forced to listen to more of their idiotic blather.”

“What’s the point of being a king, then?”

“Not sure that there is one. The food maybe.”

“You make a joke out of everything.”

“Life’s too painful not to.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

We lapsed into silence until Dorian called someone’s name. A moment later, a small, harried servant appeared. “Bring us some of that chocolate cake Bertha made. Two slices.” The man hurried off.

“I’m not hungry,” I mumbled.

“You will be.”

The cake arrived. It was one of those flourless kinds, so it was more like cake chocolate than chocolate cake. Raspberry sauce pooled around it. I found myself eating every bite.

“Better?” Dorian asked.

“Yeah.”

“You see? I told you it was the food.”

I set the plate on the floor and tried to give voice to an idea that had slowly been percolating in the back of my head. An idea that probably would never have dared surface had I not been so furious at Aeson and Kiyo tonight. Indeed, it was Aeson’s preposterous proposal that had reminded me of it.

“Dorian?”

“Yes?”

“When we first met…you told me that if I slept with you, you’d go with me to get Jasmine. Does that offer still stand?”

The first surprised look I’d ever seen on him crossed his face. I took a certain amount of pride in realizing I’d finally caught him off-guard.

“My, my,” he said softly. “This is unexpected. So. Desperation and fury achieve what all my charms could not, hmm?”

A flush spilled over my cheeks. “Well, no…it’s not like-”

“No,” he said abruptly. “The offer does not still stand.”

“But I thought-”

“I saw you fight with Aeson and the kitsune. I won’t have you come to my bed out of some misguided sense of revenge on the two of them.”

He was right in a way, I realized. This was my means of getting back at both them. Aeson for flaunting Jasmine. Kiyo for breaking my heart.

“Please,” I said. “I’ll do it. I-I don’t mind. And anyway…I have to get Jasmine back. I can’t handle her being with him anymore.”

Dorian was quiet for a long time. Finally he said, “All right.”

I snapped my head toward him. “You mean it?”

“Certainly. We’ll go back to my room and see how you do.”

“See how-? What’s that supposed to mean?” Was the deal contingent on how good I was in bed?

He smiled. “I’ll get Nia to take you back. I have to mingle a bit more and will join you soon.”

Nia arrived as if by magic and did exactly as he’d said. Once alone in his massive chamber, I paced restlessly, reconciling myself to sex with a full gentry. It would be easy. Nothing to it. I just had to lay there. Gentry didn’t carry diseases like humans. I couldn’t get pregnant. One night, and I could finally get revenge on that bastard Aeson and the smug look on his face. And yes, Dorian had been right: I’d be getting revenge on Kiyo too. Who knew? Maybe sleeping with Dorian would fill the terrible, aching hole Kiyo’s betrayal had left in me.

“Admiring the view?” asked Dorian when he finally entered. I stood by the huge picture window, staring at my own reflection in the dark glass.

“I’m never here in daylight. I’ve never seen what it looks like.”

“It’s lovely. You’ll see it in the morning.”

I supposed I would. He took off the heavy robe, poured a glass of wine, and sprawled back on the pile of pillows on his bed. The move seemed less an initiation into sex and more of an expression of fatigue. He looked very ordinary. Very human.

“You look tired.” I leaned against the bedpost, watching him.

He exhaled heavily. “It’s hard work amusing one’s admirers-as you can no doubt attest to. How’d you like your first royal party? Tell me who you spoke to. Your night must have been more tedious than mine.”

Gingerly, I sat on the bed’s edge and recounted the night for him. I gave my opinions and offered up as many details as I could on my many solicitations. Names eluded me, but Dorian could identify the culprits pretty easily based on other identifying information. He laughed so hard at my accounts and opinions, I thought he’d start crying.

Swinging himself up gracefully, he slid over on the satin coverlet to sit beside me. “You poor, poor thing. No wonder you like hunting us down. Although, I confess after my own equally inane experiences tonight, I might have a few names to give you.”