The celebration is still in full swing when I return to the ballroom. Music threatens to pull me into the dance like a marionette on strings as I cut my way through the crowd. My head on a swivel, I search for The Queen. The throng of courtiers parts in its ebb and flow of merrymaking to reveal her ascending the steps to the dais to sit on her throne.

I wend a circuitous route to the front of the room and drop to a reverent knee at the foot of her throne. Tendrils of mist from her skirts creep down the dais steps and wreath my ankles with ice-cold fingers.

"Your majesty—" I begin, but The Queen cuts me off with a raised hand.

"I thought I told you we don't do that here." When she speaks, the music fades away and a deafening quiet falls over the assembly. All eyes turn to the dais, but I dare not stand.

"I know, but it is with greatest humility that I come to you with this request." I drop my other knee so I'm fully kneeling before her.

Her face lights up with curiosity and she settles her back against the wooden throne as she prepares herself for what I have to say. "Well then. Continue on."

I press my shaking hands to the tops of my legs to still myself. "I come before you to make a bargain."

The Queen's pupils flare, the only sign of interest on her lovely, stoic face.

At her silence, I press on. "I cannot leave Destan Bordelon here at your court. France needs him..." I need him. I choke on the thought and fumble over my words. The Queen leans forward as if she heard the words I left unspoken and I check my features to make sure I don't wear my desperation in plain view on my face. "I understand you've not found a painter whose skill can capture you in a portrait." Guilt knots my insides at using Morel's ill-received portrait of the Queen to my advantage. "I will create a portrait worthy of your grandeur, but I need something in return."

My heart knocks against my breastbone as my instincts beg me to stop. I'm inching dangerously close to impudence, the very thing Morel warned me could get me killed in a court filled with self-important immortals. The Queen has never seen my work, but I hope and pray the boldness of my offer is enough to tempt her to bargain with me.

The Queen stands from her throne and examines me with an emotion that looks close to intrigue, but not far enough from scheming. "Interesting... the master painter's apprentice thinks she has the skills to create a portrait that her master cannot — a portrait worthy of exchange for the life of another."

"I'm no longer his apprentice," I say.

"That does not signify. Now I must know: what is Destan to you?" she asks with a barbed grin.

If she means to throw me off with her abrupt change of tack, she is unsuccessful. "He is an ally."

"An ally... who is mated to you?"

Gasps of shock rise from the crowd as if our exchange is a drama staged for their entertainment, and perhaps it is. Perhaps us mortals are just playthings — an amusement unfolding before her guests with real-life consequences. I hold my expression in check.

My stomach knots as I realize what I must do. What I must admit. To myself. To the Queen. To the entire assembly of immortals hungry for divertissement. To raise the stakes of the game she's playing even if it means revealing a weakness. I pause and wait for the room to grow near-silent with breaths held in pregnant anticipation. "I love him." The words, strong and clear, echo off the stone walls. My heart pounds in my ears as I finally put words to the feeling that has grown stronger with each passing moment I have spent in Destan's company.

"Florette!" a panicked voice calls out behind me and I glance over my shoulder.

The crowd has parted for Destan who stares at me, his eyes wide with panic, and lips parted in stunned awe. I should have known he would follow me. This isn't how I wanted to tell him, but it is a sacrifice I'm willing to make for the chance at keeping us together.

He closes the distance between us and with an arm at my elbow, helps me to my feet. "Is that...is that true?" His voice barely rises above a whisper.

A flutter rises in my heart at the pleading hope in his eyes. "Of course it's true," I say, breathless as his arms wrap around my waist. I press my hands to his chest to steady myself.

"Well, this is certainly an interesting development." The queen stands from her throne. "A fairy mated to a human. A human who cannot be mated to him in return. Will love be enough to keep them together?" she says as if she begins the narration of a stage drama. "My my, I do wish to see the painting you create to save your dear love. I expect his life will provide the motivation you need to create your greatest masterpiece, for I require nothing less to secure this exchange."

"Thank you, Your Majesty–"

The Queen cuts me off. "Until the painting is finished, Destan will remain in my dungeons." She waves her hand and guards in burnished armor materialize from the crowd.

"No," I cry. Hands seize me and pry me away from Destan's grasp. Panic rises in my chest. Rapid breaths escaped my lips. "Please don't." Regret and guilt win out when I see the look on Destan's face. He stares at the floor, defeated, almost broken.

I struggle in vain against the hold of the guards and turn my eyes to the Queen. "You don't have to do this," I tell her. "I will make sure you get your painting. I will make sure it's a masterpiece worthy of you. You don't need to hold Destan in your dungeon."

The queen looks delighted for the first time that evening. Her lips part with a triumphant grin. "Of course I don't, but if you want to bargain with me in my court, then I set the terms. These are my terms and they are final."

I try to meet Destan's eyes, but his head is slumped forward.

"Destan!" I plead, breathless.

He doesn't flinch as he stands almost limp in the hold of his captors. Perhaps I should have just stayed at the room and kissed Destan like he asked. I should have confessed my love for him against his lips. Now I may never hear him whisper the three words that my heart aches to hear echoed back.

The Queen waves a hand and her steward appears from the crowd. "You may not have intended to become a prominent part of this week's entertainment, but for that, you have my favor." She redirects her gaze to her steward. "Please see that Mademoiselle Florette is given the painter's studio. Morel can have a different room until Florette's work is complete."

My betrayal of Morel sinks like a heavy weight onto my shoulders as I realize the magnitude of what I've done. I have not only imprisoned my love but I have displaced and likely alienated my closest friend in mere minutes.

I searched the crowd and find Morel watching. His lips are parted as shock and anger war on his face. He has heard every word and is right to despise me. He brought me here to help him, to paint together once again, and I have used his confidence and his connection for my own gain. Even though I had no intention of it, I have supplanted his role here in his beloved court.

"Come with me," the Queen's steward says. "I will take you to the painter's studio."

With a guard at each elbow, they shuffle me through the crowd, but before we leave, I glance back at Destan, hoping to catch his eye. Look at me! I plead silently, but he does not.

With the steward in the lead, we head up the tower staircase to Morel's rooms. With each step, my legs grow weaker as the weight of the stakes settles heavier on me. I can only hope that this will be worth it – that I will be able to take Destan back to France with me. For Marie. For myself. For him. We reach the studio and the guards release me. Moonlight streams through the grand windows and bathes the chamber with a cold, unwelcoming light. I glance around the room that Morel has set up just to his liking. Every once-beloved familiarity I attribute to Morel adds to the feeling of being an intruder in someone else's home.

Morel storms into the tower seconds behind us and he bears down on me. Eyes full of fury, he grabs me by the wrist. "How dare you? How dare you?" he asks, his voice rising with mounting frenzy. "After everything I've done for you? After everything I've taught you?" His voice shakes more with each word.

"I didn't—" I start, but I can't honestly say I didn't mean to do this. I knew I was using his failure to leverage Destan's side of my bargain. I knew what I was risking, and after all that I've done to him, Morel at least deserves my honesty. "I'm not here to take your place," I finally say. "I don't plan to stay — this is your world. I'm here on a mission for my friends and I can't leave Destan behind."

"It'll never work," Morel sneers at me. "You think you can make a masterpiece worthy of the Queen? Without my help? You have no idea what I risked to bring you here. I brought you here so we could work together — so we could be something great, but instead, you betray me."

"Please!" Tears spring to my eyes. "I don't need to prove myself better than you — that's not my intention. I intend to prove myself in my own right."

Morel's hand tightens around my wrist "You forget your place. You forget who made you. I made you. Without me, you are nothing! You were just an orphan, forgotten refuse in the gutter when I chose you. I gave you everything and this is how you repay me? By embarrassing me? By humiliating me in front of my friends?"

Each word cuts deeper and steals my breath away. I swallow the growing lump in my throat.

"You don't understand the world that you've entered. The Fae cannot be easily pleased and they certainly will not be pleased by the silly brushstrokes of a child."

"Please, Edmund." My voice quavers. "You're hurting me." When he doesn't let go, I use Lafayette and Destan's training and twist my arm free with ease. Shock flickers across Morel's face when I knock his hand away. Hard. The anger dissipates from his eyes and he looks at me like he is suddenly seeing me for the first time.

He turns to storm out of the room but pulls up short of the doorway. "You're on your own," he throws over his shoulder. "If... no, when you realize you're in over your head... when you call on me for help, you won't find it."

When he turns down the stairs out of sight, I fall to my knees and sob.