Maven holds me to his chest in silence, kissing me in lieu of an answer. His arms poise to sweep me off the ground, but I swat them away. "No." I grit my teeth. "Not in front of everyone."

He strokes my hair. "You have nothing left to hide."

"You're not my prince charming. Don't act like it."

"Am I your villain? I can live with that." He caresses my cheek. "Provided I'm your only villain."

"I make no promises."

"She doesn't love-"

"We're not arguing about this." I scowl. "Let's go already. And stop asking questions you don't want the answers to."

His eyes flare. "Stop giving me reasons to ask them."

Neither of us yields as we step onto the boat, an inconspicuous wooden vessel built for secrecy and speed. "Magnetrons," he'd explained this morning. "Let's not stick ourselves in a metal cage."

"Clever," I'd replied. "But what about the ocean? It has no political position, no loved ones to ransom. It won't fall for your attempts to convince it it's secretly a puddle. All you can do is not think about it." I'd flashed my teeth. "You're not thinking about it, are you?"

I proceeded to remind him of the various ways he shouldn't be thinking about it on the ride here. I ought to remind him again. And again. And again.

In case he forgets.

I poke his shoulder. "Remember, never-"

"I know where your manacles are."

I yank his collar. "Are you sure? You're very good at losing things." My fingers dig into his hair, clawing at the vulnerable roots. "You might misplace me."

He scoffs. "It was a table, Mare. Were you afraid it'd have uncomfortable chairs?"

My hands creep to his neck, lingering, molding themselves to the curve of his throat. His expression is a heady mix of terror and arousal. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"Ahem." Iris leans against the doorframe. "Am I interrupting?"

"Yes," Maven growls.

"Good." She takes my hand. "Mother would like to meet with you."

He pries her fingers away. "She's my consort, not yours."

Iris snorts. "You can't go five minutes without touching her?"

"If anything, she's touching me."

"Good point." I pat his head, laughing as he sputters incoherently. My fingers clasp around the doorknob. "I have better things to do."

"It's a trap." Maven grips my shoulder. "Cenra has nothing to lose and you have nothing to gain. All she'll do is interrogate you. Or worse." He stares at the floor. "She might repeat what she said to me to your face."

I still. No. I don't have time.

The door closes before he can follow as the boat lurches in time to my ever-increasing heartbeat. Queen Cenra is not the lovestruck king I'm used to dealing with. It would be dangerous to ignore her.

The air is brisk against my cheeks, and I find myself leaning into Iris's warmth. No one else would have interrupted. Would have laughed. Would have understood.

The conference proved that.

She turns away, but not before I catch the silver dusting her cheeks. "That was awful, but I'm sure it was worse for you."

"Wouldn't be my life if it were easy."

"Silent stone." Her voice softens. "You must have wanted to die."

"I know. I was there."

"I know." Her hand grips my wrist, and I freeze. "I wanted you to know I'm sorry."

The manacle slides back on with a chink, and I'm back, back in his cage without an exit. I don't understand. I don't understand. How is this happening? Why? It was over! I was past this! He said-

This is not his order.

I gape at Iris, at her hands outstretched towards the sea. The waves rise around us, forming a cocoon around the ship. My lightning will not save us.

"I'm sorry."

"Words are cheap."

"You know that better than anyone." She steps into the water, pulling me with her. "Mother did want to meet you. I didn't specify where."

We skim across the ocean, watery tendrils pinning my arms to my sides. I name all the ways I will destroy her, rend flesh from bone until there is nothing left for the sharks to feed on. She doesn't flinch. "This was a compromise."

"Cute." I shake my manacles. "Where did you find these?"

"Mother doesn't like you very much."

"'It wasn't me, it was my evil mother!'" I scoff. "Heard that one before."

"She wanted you dead!"

"Everyone does!" I squirm, but the tendrils don't budge. "I don't have friends. I have enemies. You were supposed to be the exception." My eyes water. "Guess I was wrong."

"You weren't." Iris stares at the horizon. "Mother doesn't trust Maven to hold his end of the alliance. What better incentive than losing you?" She smiles. "You'll be free of him."

My fingers twitch. "I'm free, am I?"

"He can't touch you anymore."

"For now. But he'll follow me." My voice darkens. "Before I was captured, he burned his initial onto my neck so I'd know I belonged to him." The sound I make barely resembles a laugh. "I wonder what he'll do to you."

Iris stills. "You're-" She closes her eyes. "You're rooting for him."

"He's the one who didn't kidnap me five minutes ago." I claw at the keyhole, but it's useless. "I don't get to strangle you, do I?"

She shakes her head. "I thought this would go differently."

"Thanks, Iris. I'm glad you locked two bracelets of death onto my wrists and shoved me into the ocean. My wildest dreams come true." There's that ungodly laugh again. "My wildest nightmares."

Iris sighs. "You've been around him too long."

"He made you do this, huh?"

"I'm not arguing with you. You aren't lucid."

"Whose fault is that?" A yank slices steel across my palm, red billowing into the water like cursed smoke. They won't budge. "Get them off."

"You're hurting yourself."

"Get them off!" The tendrils squeeze tighter, so tight I can't reach, so tight I might die of suffocation instead of torturous silence. "They'll kill me! GET THEM OFF!"

She wavers. "Mother doesn't trust you without them."

"Blaming her again, I see."

A ship draws closer, sleeker and narrower than the ones in Norta. My bindings loosen, enough to allow me use of my arms. If I attack, I will drown.

Would that be so bad?

"I do what I must." She deposits me on the hull, but doesn't remove the manacles. "We all do."

"Yes." I tear the consort rose from my chest, red and purple fraying to a tear-stained mess. An empty title. Emptier now. "We all do."

If he's all I have left . . .

Let him have me.