I turned back towards the gardens, dreading the impending tug in my chest. The one that always awakened in Adelaide's presence. Only now, maybe it had evolved into a desire to throttle her. I prayed it would be the latter.

"I was just leaving," I said.

Her heeled slippers clicked across the terrace. I hated the way my legs locked up, unwilling to listen even though my mind screamed for them to keep moving. I pressed my eyes closed in disgust. Was this how easy it would be for her, then? Was my body this weak, this traitorous?

"You've been avoiding me all evening," she said, her voice small, "I was hoping we could talk."

My chest constricted. My teeth gnashed together. There was no more avoiding it, now. I had to face her. I had to face her and endure whatever her mere presence did to me. The shame of it would eat me alive if I harbored any desire towards her besides murder. Every one of my muscles tensed as I glanced up to the sky, to the stars that reminded me of Beatriz, then turned to Adelaide.

But where I'd expected her beautiful, pouting face to punch me in the heart, it didn't. Where that same look of dejection had once spurred me to do whatever it took to chase it away, now it kindled the fire of hatred in my heart. She'd colluded with Dulciana. She'd sent Callum after me. He and his men had almost killed Beatriz and Nisha because of her. Dulciana knew Frederico's movements because Adelaide had somehow shared the contents of my letter.

Now, finally, when her teeth glittered up at me in the moonlight, nothing stirred within me. No rush of victory that I'd earned one of her smiles. No urge to gather her in my arms and drown in her. No flush of delight and desire racing across my skin.

Instead, all I was contemplating was how easily I could snap her neck.

I exhaled the breath I'd been holding. My tense muscles loosened. All the knots that had tied in my stomach disappeared, and I vowed that I'd have a little more faith in myself in the future. I was free. I was no longer the weak little creature so easily swayed by the girl who'd broken my heart. I was free of her, at last. I was so relieved that I almost laughed.

"What could we possibly have to talk about?" I demanded, folding my arms. I relished the brief, confused dip of her brows and the way I was no longer tempted to ease her confusion. Instead, when I looked down at her, in her opulent gown and glittering jewels and expensive perfume, all I could think of was Beatriz. The sly way she'd smirk at such extravagance, all while caressing her knives.

But Adelaide was still a snake, and I'd almost forgotten that when she closed the space between us and reached for my face. "You came back for me," she breathed, leaning closer.

I closed my hands around her wrists and pulled them away. "No, I didn't. If I'd had any choice in the matter, I'd never have returned at all."

Her eyes narrowed before she schooled them back into wide-eyed fawning. "Thomas." She drew my name out and I realized with a sickening lurch that she knew exactly what it did to me—what it used to do to me. She wielded it like a witch with a spell, just like she had all along.

I didn't fight the condescending smile that curved my lips as I released her wrists and stepped away. "That little trick won't work anymore, Addie dearest."

I relished the way her nickname no longer bounced around my chest, like some secret bridge between us. Instead, I flung it at her like an insult.

She reached out and seized the lapels of my jacket, trying to tug me towards her. I chuckled, planting my feet in the wide, balanced stance Beatriz had taught me, and slid my hands into my pockets.

"What's happened to you?" she asked, her eyes skating across my face to my ear. "Why won't you—"

"Quite a lot has happened to me," I said, then leaned in conspiratorially. "But do you know what the best thing was?"

The poor, wicked thing thought she'd swayed me. She leaned towards me and wet her lips. "What?" she whispered.

"I fell in love." I held her gaze, relishing every moment of it when I said, "With an Ardalonian princess."

She jerked away from me as if I'd slapped her. Her eyes flared and her fists clenched around my lapels.

"You don't mean that," she said, schooling her face back into that pleasant veneer of perfection I'd once fallen for. She traced my jaw with her fingertips. "How can you have fallen in love with someone else when you're in love with me?"

"Oh, Addie. You can't hold a candle to her. No one can. She's just that perfect."

I relished the horror and panic on her face the same way she must have relished shattering my heart the day I so foolishly presented her with my invitation to the opera. The day she'd told me that she was intent upon pursuing my brother, that nothing less than a crown prince was enough for her.

It felt so good, so right, to put her in her place. To watch her stagger a step backwards as all her plans for her perfect, royal life crumbled.

But she didn't let me gloat for long.

"You should forget her, Thomas. You're never going back there," she managed finally, her face steeled with refined rage. "It doesn't matter if you love her, not when you're never going to see her again."

A harsh, bitter laugh escaped my lips. "She's the only thing I live for, now. I could no sooner forget her than forget to breathe."

With each word I spoke, Adelaide's veneer of perfection chipped even further.

"Stop it!" Her voice rose. "Don't say things you don't mean. It's cruel."

"And you would know all about that, wouldn't you?"

Her face crumpled, but I didn't feel that tug in my chest like the last time, back when she'd learned I was leaving. "How can you say such heartless things when I love you, Thomas?"

Her words bounced off the armor Beatriz had built around my heart. A laugh barked from my lips before I could temper it. "I think we both know the truth about that lie now, don't we?"

"I mean it!" She reached for me again, but I took a hasty step back. Her hands curled to fists and fell to her sides, white-knuckled. The sadness swept from her face as her eyes hardened. Her tone changed from the coquettish simper of a debutante into the coolly calculated voice of a courtier when she said, "I'm the only reason you made it home. Don't you understand that?"

"Oh yes," I replied, just as coolly, "And I'm livid about it."

Her eyes darted between mine as she tried to puzzle it out. She wouldn't, though, because she couldn't comprehend a world where people didn't fall at her perfect feet. I had her right where I wanted her, cornered and defensive.

"I hope you enjoyed the ball, for it was your last," I said, "I know what you did, Adelaide, and you'll be lucky if my father throws you in the dungeon for such treason. After all, I doubt my mother will stay your execution as she did your grandfather's."

Her head tilted as the rest of her stilled. "Thomas—"

"It's no use." I turned on my heel, surrendering to the victorious smirk that tugged at my lips. "You made your bed, Addie. Now it's time to sleep in it. In a cell."

"No." She said it with such certainty that I threw a dismissive glance over my shoulder.

"Do you think I'm joking?"

Her steps, hurried and decidedly ungraceful, ground against the gravel path. I whirled to face her. Gone was her veneer of perfection. Instead, her eyes were wide. Desperate. Frantic.

"If you tell anyone what I did," she said, "I'll tell Queen Dulciana that you disobeyed her orders."

I seized her arm, probably a little harder than necessary thanks to my fraying temper. I wrenched her around, marching both of us back towards the ballroom. Back towards my father. Towards Andrew. Towards someone who could see her thrown in a cell that very night, ball or not.

"Perhaps I wasn't clear enough," I managed through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to crush the delicate bones of her forearm with my bare hands. "There won't be any quills and ink and paper in the dungeons. You won't be sending any more missives to Ardalone. Not a single one."

But when I hauled her up, back onto the ballroom terrace, she broke from my grasp with a twisting move so precise and effective that it must have been something her warrior father had taught her to defend herself against overly-familiar suitors.

"I see you still think of me as some simpering idiot, just like all the rest of them," she said, her tone frighteningly controlled. "But the rightful queen did not."

Rightful queen. My fists curled. I wanted to slap those words right out of her mouth. "This ends one of two ways, Adelaide. Either you march in there yourself and declare your treason, or I'll do it for you."

"No, you won't."

Something about her smile had the hairs lifting on the back of my neck.

"This isn't some stupid Season game anymore!" I snarled. "This isn't you trying to best some—"

"If you throw me in the dungeons, the rightful queen will know, and your beloved princess will be dead."

I stopped breathing.

You should know that Dulciana has spies among us...It wasn't only Umberwood's heiress.

"Then I'll find a cell big enough for your entire rotten family." I reached for her again, but she backed away with a swish of her skirts.

"You have no idea, do you? You have no idea who else knows." When she laughed, cruel and knowing, bile rose into my throat. "I didn't want it to be this way. I'd hoped to get you the easy way, but it seems we'll have to do this the hard way. I don't like the thought of some foreign princess' blood on my hands, even from afar. But you will marry me, Thomas, and you will keep your bargain with the rightful queen of Ardalone."

I see you still think of me as some simpering idiot...But the rightful queen did not.

I'd been a damned idiot for not seeing it sooner. For not understanding what she'd meant. It had probably happened at that fates-forsaken ball, when she'd made me promise to come back for her. Dulciana had still been in the palace, preparing to depart with me, and Adelaide had been desperate. Desperate enough to turn to a former rival for help. Desperate enough to offer anything to make sure I came back to her, unwed.

I'd played this all wrong. I'd been so caught up in the past—in freeing myself from her—that I hadn't thought through to the future. I hadn't remembered Giles' warning. I'd been so certain that it was her father or her mother or someone from Umberwood that I hadn't stopped to consider that it could be someone else. It could be anyone else.

And I'd just showed my entire hand to my enemy.

I shoved down the panic that bubbled up my throat and sucked in a fortifying breath of cold, night air. She couldn't know she had me cornered. I jammed my shaking hands into my pockets and graced her with my best smirk.

"So we're to bargain, then?" I demanded. "Is that what you want?"

Her smile broadened. "I don't know that I'd call it a bargain when I hold all the chips, darling."

I hated the endearment with all my heart, but I couldn't let it show. I'd made a colossal mistake in throwing Beatriz in her face when I should've kept the truth hidden until I figured out just how desperate Adelaide was. And just who else was helping her.

I'd been such a damned idiot.

She released her skirts so she could toy with my lapels again and tipped her head up to look at me. "You aren't going to march me in there to declare me as a traitor, Thomas. You're going to march in there to declare me as your betrothed."

**A/N: So uh...please don't kill me for that cliffhanger, okay? XD

As much as you're probably not feeling too kindly towards me (or Adelaide for that matter), please take a moment to show some love to this story with a vote and comment. How do you think our man's gonna get himself out of this one?! **