APOLLO

Apollo had told Evangeline she was allowed to go anywhere in Wolf Hall, partly because he couldn't fathom her wandering too far from the safety of her room, and partly because Marisol followed her everywhere she went. Back when he had first been cursed with love, he barely thought of Marisol Tourmaline except as an extension of Evangeline. Now, after enduring several more curses and a return from "death" itself, Havelock had filled him in on everything that had transpired since his wedding night. Namely, his brother's short engagement to Marisol and the reasons for it being dissolved.

When the girl had resurfaced and begged for amnesty, he had considered just having her quietly executed; after all, why risk the harm to Evangeline, either directly (if the witch attempted any more spells) or indirectly (if she told Evangeline more about her past than he currently wanted her to know)? But the girl had readily pledged herself to him alone, swearing to act the role of loving sister (a role that allowed her to watch Evangeline when he couldn't) and reinforce any story he wanted her to believe. It was disgusting, how little regard Marisol had for her own stepsister; but he had to admit it was useful.

This was why the sight of Marisol, alone and bobbing anxiously in the doorway of his room, filled him with equal parts annoyance and dread.

"Please excuse me, gentlemen," he said smoothly to the nobles assembled, slipping out the door after Marisol. She had already turned and fled back down the hall, presumably leading him to wherever Evangeline was currently. He could feel Havelock and a few other guards at his back, so he had no fear of being led into a trap (he also didn't think Marisol was brave or stupid enough to try and harm the only protection she had in The Magnificent North), but the knot of anxiety in his stomach refused to untwist until he knew what was actually wrong.

"Where are you taking me?" he called after Marisol, barely masking his annoyance.

She stopped suddenly, turning back with wide eyes as if she had only just realised how rude she was being to a prince. "Apologies, Your Highness, I should have waited until you were finished with your meeting."

He waved his hand impatiently. "Trivial matters about the upcoming hunt. Where are we going?" And, more importantly, what sort of trouble was his wife in?

"The library, Your Highness."

Damn. He broke into a half-jog that was not particularly dignified for someone of his status, but the library was one of the places he had expressly forbidden. "Why didn't you stop her?"

"What should I have done?" Marisol was breathing heavily trying to keep up with him. "Tied her to the bed? She wanted to see the books."

He decided to ignore her rudeness. "What was wrong with the ones I had sent to her?"

"She said she wanted to be surrounded by books, and something about looking for an old fairytale; but then she went straight for the arch, and I tried to stop her but Tiberius arrived before I-"

"Tiberius is in Wolf Hall? And you left him alone with Evangeline?" He broke into a full sprint. Luckily the library was just ahead. He wrenched open the heavy doors, ignoring the soft squeak of protest as they swung back into Marisol and his guard.

He weaved through the stacks of old tomes about old people and old places. The library seemed empty of the usual ancient staff and was eerily silent, all sounds muffled by the thick carpet and the books themselves. He rounded the last corner, expecting to find Evangeline in a pool of her own blood and his brother standing over the body.

What he saw instead was equally strange: Evangeline her hands clamped over her mouth to try to stifle the unmistakable sounds of laughter, and Tiberius standing closer than even Apollo could get away with most days, laughing with her.

"It's true," Tiberius said. "Half the paintings in Wolf Hall are of him these days, haven't you noticed? I'm surprised there isn't a giant one in your bedroom, titled something like 'Handsome Prince Contemplates a Single Rosebud .'"

Evangeline laughed harder, tears of mirth streaming down her face.

Apollo cleared his throat and the pair turned as one. Evangeline looked guilty, but Tiberius merely looked amused.

"Brother," he said, spreading his arms wide as if he hadn't just been caught ridiculing him. "I was just on my way to see you when I ran into your lovely wife instead. Do you know, she mistook me for one of the guards at first?"

Evangeline's guilty expression turned guiltier. "I'm sorry Apollo. He figured out there was something wrong almost immediately."

Havelock and his men arrived before he could ask what exactly Tiberius had said to her, and he forced himself to smile.

"Welcome home, Tiberius." He had pardoned his brother for the crime of almost accidentally killing him, but the guards still shifted uneasily at the sight of their second prince. "Shall we go somewhere private to catch up? Just the two of us," he added pointedly.

"In that case," Evangeline stepped forward eagerly, "if you're going to be busy for the rest of the day, do you think I could go into town and do some shopping? Marisol too, of course."

Marisol had wisely not reappeared, but he assumed she was skulking around somewhere nearby. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"I'll be careful," Evangeline promised. "I only want to stretch my legs and enjoy the sunshine for a bit."

"Why don't you let her, Apollo?" Tiberius smiled. "She's a capable girl."

"I'll thank you not to involve yourself in my marriage, Tiberius." More than you already have.

"I'll be very careful," Evangeline pleaded, placing her hands in his. It seemed she wasn't going to give up this time. "Besides, I want to buy you a present."

His heart melted slightly at the sight of her shy smile. He bent closer and the smile became startled, wary; but that was differently entrancing. She still saw him as more of a stranger than a husband, but he found he enjoyed prodding at her boundaries almost as much as he would enjoy the day that they finally fell, and she succumbed to him at last.

"Take Aurora with you too," he finally conceded. "I'll have her sent for now."

Evangeline looked slightly less happy with this development, but knew better than to argue with him. "It will be a good opportunity for us to get to know one another."

"Indeed. And more importantly, she won't let anything happen to you." He wrapped his arms around her, and her tiny flinch lit a fire in his belly. A hug was hardly scandalous for a married couple, and they would go on to do far more before long. But for Evangeline it was still deeply intimate. Still, she allowed him to touch her, even placing her delicate hands on his shoulders as though they were about to dance. "I'm looking forward to my present," he murmured before releasing her at last.

She gave him a flustered smile before running off to prepare for her outing.

Apollo turned back to his brother, who had been watching the interaction with amusement.

"You two seem cosy. Sure you aren't still bewitched?"

"Hold your tongue," he snapped, even though his guards had given the princes a respectful amount of distance.

"I wish you every happiness, brother." Tiberius spoke quieter now. "Would that my own magical engagement had been as happy as yours."

"Your bride was a scheming witch. Mine was only guilty of poor taste in friends."

"Oh, she's guilty of far more than that." He glanced at the Valory Arch.

"If you hurt her-"

"Bit late for that." Tiberius sniffed. "No, The Protectorate no longer has any quarrel with Miss Fox. Enjoy her in peace."

"Then why are you here?" Apollo refused to believe it was going to be that simple. He had been so careful hiding the truth from Evangeline when it would have been easier to just dispose of her and find a new queen. He wouldn't let anyone spoil his plans until he was sure Evangeline's memory loss was permanent and her dependence on him was complete.

Tiberius raised his eyebrows. "Because this is my home? I know there's been bad blood between us recently…"

"You had me flogged."

"...But at the end of the day, you are my brother and my future king. I'm here to help you; even if it means being friendly with the Key and her evil stepsister."

Tiberius was the person closest to Apollo in the world, which could be an asset or his downfall depending on whether his motives were pure. But Apollo knew him just as well as Tiberius knew Apollo, and he didn't detect any deception behind his dark eyes.

"In that case, I'll tell you everything. But not here, where anyone could be listening in." The library was not a safe place for the conversation to come, especially so close to the still-open Valory Arch.

EVANGELINE

Evangeline wrapped her shawl tighter around her body, determined not to show how much the sudden excess of fresh air was affecting her after so long cooped up in Wolf Hall. She was finally free to seek answers about her missing memories, and she had a pretty good idea about where to start.

Every morning she was given a copy of the newspapers to enjoy with her morning tea. It had quickly become apparent that someone had been reading these papers before her: occasionally sections would be torn or smudged in ways that made the overall story unreadable. Other times whole pages would be missing. The newspaper for which this happened most often was The Daily Rumor. Most days she was lucky to get more than half of it, especially any sections written by someone named Kristoff Knightlinger. She knew that her missing months included rumours that she was involved in her husband's "death" and had even fled the castle for a time. She sensed Apollo would have preferred not to burden her with that knowledge, but there had been too many explanations owed to the public after his return to keep the basic information secret from Evangeline. Perhaps the scandal sheets had simply fabricated their stories about a commoner turned princess turned murderer; but on the other hand, perhaps this Kristoff Knightlinger knew something that could help to fill in the blanks.

The only problem was how she might lose her escorts.

Aurora and Marisol walked on either side of her. Aurora looked radiant and carefree in an indigo gown embroidered with gold and peach thread, like a sunrise breaking through the night. Marisol looked just as pretty in a butterscotch dress with ivory lace; but unlike Aurora she kept throwing worried glances at everything they passed.

"What sort of gift do you think Prince Apollo would like, Evangeline?" Marisol asked, clearly hoping to get the entire outing over and done with as soon as possible.

Evangeline hummed to herself, pretending to scan the streets for a promising shop rather than a sign that would point her toward the Daily Rumor. She knew its address from the paper, but not how to get there. "I'm not sure."

"How about a locket? You could have a tiny portrait made up for it." Marisol suggested, and Evangeline pretended to consider it even as she led them past the jewellery store without stopping.

"You could buy him a new bow and arrows," Aurora said, and for some reason this suggestion made Evangeline's stomach twist. "For the unicorn hunt," she explained.

"The hunt is for a unicorn ?" Evangeline's uneasiness became full-blown horror. "Isn't killing a unicorn bad luck?" Her mother's stories had been quite clear on that.

"Oh, it's terrible luck," Aurora smiled. "But as long as you don't draw blood then there's nothing wrong with just catching one. How else would you convince it to grant your wish?"

"Wish?"

"You didn't know? All unicorns have the power to grant a single wish to someone whose heart is pure and true." She sighed dreamily, and it seemed as if the whole world was sighing with her. "But alas, unicorns have been extinct since before even the time of the Valors. The hunt will be for a stand-in, usually a stag with a gold ribbon around its neck, or a man in a unicorn mask if they find someone who can run fast enough."

"And do they shoot the stand-in?" The question was out of her mouth before she had fully decided if she wanted to know the answer.

Aurora laughed, a beautiful tinkling sound that made Evangeline feel like a complete fool. She still had no idea what would actually happen at the hunt, but she didn't want to ask Aurora any more questions.

She spied a shop front that was barely more than a door with a faded gold sign that read 'YOUR FORTUNE TOLD'. There was a sparkling blue eye painted beneath the words, and it was this that first caught her attention. Something about it felt 'right'.

"I want to get my fortune told." She was halfway across the street before her guards and companions realised she had even moved. They quickly darted after her as she opened the door and let herself inside.

The interior looked more like someone's home than a shop. There was a little receiving room on the ground level, full of mismatched velvet couches and stained coffee tables, and a narrow staircase that led upstairs. From there came a reddish glow and the strong smell of sandalwood.

One of the armchairs shifted, and Evangeline realised that there was a woman sitting in it, wearing a velvet dress in a pattern so similar that it had to be intentional. She approached them in a grand, sweeping gait that made Evangeline feel like she was being swooped by a giant paisley bird.

"I sense that someone is here for a reading," the woman said, and Marisol gave a tiny snort.

"How perceptive."

" I'd like a reading, please." Evangeline stepped forward quickly. "I want to know all about my future."

The others were shown to the ground level sitting room while she was escorted upstairs by 'Madam Grizelda'. Her guard had wanted to accompany her, but she insisted on hearing her fortune in private, and they had to content themselves with checking the upstairs loft for hidden threats before retreating back down to wait with the girls.

When they were finally alone, Madam Grizelda sat down on a high-backed chair and gestured for her to take the one opposite. Between them was a round table with a stick of half-burned incense and a tattered deck of cards sitting face-down.

"Before I reveal the secrets of your future, I must ask for a small fee of one silver piece."

That seemed like a steep price for a fortune, but she assumed Madam Grizelda had taken in her clothes and company and correctly inferred that she could afford it. Evangeline took out her purse and placed a gold piece on the table between them.

"I must tell you, I see only what there is to see; you cannot improve it by paying extra."

"It isn't a fortune I want from you," Evangeline said.

"Oh? I assumed you were here to discuss your recent heartbreak." She cut the deck of cards with a practised hand, revealing the image of a man crying blood.

"What makes you say…" She stopped herself before she could finish. Even if she could recall any recent heartbreak, she didn't have time to get caught up in a charlatan's performance. "No. I'm here for information of a different kind. Namely, the location of a certain business." She repeated the address listed as The Daily Rumour.

"I know it well; it's only a stone's throw from here, in fact." Madam Grizelda produced a slip of floral-smelling pink paper and drew her a simple map. The location was indeed only two streets away; Evangeline estimated she could reach it in two minutes if she ran.

"Thank you. And if you are willing and able," she withdrew another gold piece, "a way out of here that doesn't require me to go back down those stairs would be greatly appreciated. If that isn't possible, then hopefully this will at least pay for your discretion."

"Discretion is always free here," Madam Grizelda smiled, taking both coins and tucking them away inside a pocket. "Which is why I also have a secret exit."

JACKS

Jacks waited in a shadowy alcove and told himself he didn't care why Evangeline Fox had finally left Wolf Hall only to step into a fortune teller's shop. He told himself he wasn't disappointed that she did not appear to be looking for him, but was simply doing facile, idle things with her two unlikely friends, Marisol Tourmaline and Aurora Valor.

He told himself he would turn and leave any second now.

But he continued to loiter in the cold street, watching the building opposite for any signs of trouble. Because even if Evangeline couldn't remember him, trouble followed her like a shadow. It was why he had slipped her a luckless coin in the first place, back on the day she had died and he had gotten a second chance to change it. It was simply a means of monitoring his investment; it would have been annoying if he'd gone to all that trouble to save her life only to have her throw it away a few weeks later.

A door at the far end of the street creaked open, spraying flaky paint everywhere as a hooded figure stepped out and hurried off. He didn't need the magic of the luckless coin in her pocket or even the pull of his last mark on her wrist to know that it was his Fox.

Without her guard Evangeline was completely vulnerable, but she moved down quiet streets with zero awareness of the fact. Jacks followed no more than ten steps from her as she headed wherever she was going, and she didn't even turn around.

He wanted to reach out and grab her; not to feel her warmth, or enjoy the way her fair skin would flush against his hands. Just to make her realise that anyone might have done the same or worse if he hadn't been there haunting her steps, making it clear that she was nobody's prey but his.

But he told himself he was better off being invisible.

EVANGELINE

Evangeline strode up to the front of a shiny bronze and glass building and tried not to look flustered. She had indeed run there from the fortune teller's, wearing a plain cloak Madam Grizelda had lent her to hide her fine clothes and strange hair. Just before she left, the woman had upended a fat brass hourglass that was presumably used to track the timing of her readings. After that, she had warned, her companions would surely come upstairs looking for her. Evangeline wasn't sure if this was a prophecy or simple practicality, but she forced herself to hurry out the secret door and along an attic corridor that seemed to span the length of the entire row of buildings. Following Madam Grizelda's directions, she used the limited light from greasy skylights to find a different door near the end that let her out into a clearly-abandoned building. After that it was as simple as going back down to the street and sneaking off in search of The Daily Rumour.

Inside, the newspaper's office was a flurry of cheerful activity. Everybody seemed to be shouting, but nobody seemed angry. Evangeline squeezed herself into the chaos, side-stepping men with rolled-up sleeves bent over what appeared to be two slightly different mock-ups for the same article. One was titled "VALE FAMILY TO BECOME FIRST NEW GREAT HOUSE IN THREE GENERATIONS" and the other was titled "VALE FAMILY'S MYSTERIOUS RISE TO POWER: PRINCE OVERRULES COUNCIL TO INSTATE NEW GREAT HOUSE."

"If we print that heading, they'll shut down the whole paper," the man holding the first article argued.

"First we're ordered to stop writing about the princess, now we can't even mention the prince?" The other man grumbled. "If they don't want to be in the news, they shouldn't keep doing newsworthy things."

She tugged her hood lower and continued on until she found a desk at the back with a bored-looking man who might have been a receptionist.

"Is Kristoff Knightlinger here, by any chance?" She asked.

The bored man looked her up and down, and luckily he didn't seem to notice the shade of her hair underneath the cloak's hood. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but…he wrote an article about me," she began, and the man cut her off quickly.

"Any complaints or claims of libel must be submitted in writing, by a solicitor."

"Oh, no I'm not here to complain. I just want to ask him a few questions." She was running out of time. "Could you please just fetch him? Once he's seen me he can decide for himself if he wants to talk to me." She was banking on Kristoff Knightlinger having met her in person at least once in the past, or else she would be forced to reveal to a room full of journalists that she was the princess of The Magnificent North.

The man stared for another long moment, and Evangeline was just beginning to despair of the entire plan when he sighed and picked up a small silver device like an ice-cream cone connected to his desk by thick wire.

"Kristoff?" he spoke into the open end of the cone. "There's a woman here to see you. Says you wrote something about her, and now she has a few questions for you. For what it's worth, I don't think she's planning to attack you."

"I'm not," Evangeline said, but the man just put down the cone and returned to looking bored. A minute later a door in the back opened and a new man came out. He was dressed ostentatiously in tall leather boots and a frothy white jabot. She could tell he recognised her immediately, but he had the good sense to play ignorant.

"Pleasure to meet you, madam." He took her hand and gave it a polite kiss. "May I escort you to my personal office?"

Once the door was closed on them, Knightlinger dropped all pretence. "Miss Fox," he purred, "I must say, I'm more than a little surprised to see you here; especially without a royal escort. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Feeling bolder than she might have if she'd had more time to dance around the issue, Evangeline cut to the chase. "I'm sure you've heard rumours that my sudden illness is actually amnesia."

" Heard , yes, but by the order of your dear husband," he sniffed, but there was a gleam in his eyes that made it clear he was very interested in this conversation, "we haven't been allowed to write anything specific."

"And you still can't," Evangeline said, and the gleam dimmed ever so slightly. "But I know you've written things about me in the past, and I need you to tell me how much of it is true."

"You want my help figuring out what happened in your missing time? Surely you could have asked the prince?" Knightlinger smiled. "Or your beloved stepsister? I hear you're getting quite close to Aurora Vale, too. Any reason you can't trust any of them to tell you the truth?"

Perhaps this was a bad idea; Evangeline didn't know this man any better than she knew her husband and stepsister, but at least they were definitely something to her. Why didn't she trust that they were telling her the whole truth, and the man sitting before her just liked spinning lies to sell papers. "I do trust them," she said, "but they can't possibly have been with me for every second of the past year. I need to know about the times I wasn't at Wolf Hall, or back in Valenda."

"You mean the time you were on the run for murder?" Knightlinger guessed, and Evangeline nodded stiffly.

"My husband isn't dead, so clearly that isn't what really happened. But I need to know what did ."

"It's a long story."

"You'll have to make it a short one." She glanced back at the closed door. How much time had passed since she had left Madame Grizelda's?

Knightlinger got up from his desk and opened a dark wooden filing cabinet. He flicked a few tabs along and then grabbed the entire fistful under a tab labelled "Fox."

"You have a whole section on me?" Evangeline felt queasy.

"You're a commoner from the south who saved her cursed stepsister's wedding from the returned Fates, travelled to The Magnificent North and stole the heart of its crown prince, then when that same prince died the night of your wedding, you disappeared, tricked the second prince into admitting guilt, then completely disappeared for several weeks only to reappear the same night as the dead prince." His eyes gleamed even harder. "You've made quite an impression in the world of journalism."

"I saved Marisol's wedding from the Fates?" The Fates were the collective name for the characters on Deck of Destiny cards, and while many people believed they were secretly real beings, it was hard to imagine herself encountering one.

Kristoff shook the stack of papers, then handed them to her. "It's all in there: everything we ever wrote about you, plus a few notes we couldn't publish for legal reasons. There's even a letter or two from my reporter cousin down south. Feel free to burn it all after reading, if you need." He winked.

"Thank you." She wasn't sure what else to say at that point, and she still needed to get back to the others before they came looking for her. "Oh! One last thing." She reached in her pockets and pulled out the two strange coins.

"I don't need payment," Knightinger shook his head before noticing these coins were not normal currency. "What are those?"

"You don't recognise them?" She was surprised at how disappointed this made her; they were the only tangible clue she had, but she still didn't know what to do with them.

"I don't. However, they do look a bit like…" he trailed off, appraising her anew. "How long have you had these?"

"I had one on me when I lost my memories. The other I received recently, from a ghost fox."

"Interesting." His eyes were practically glowing with interest now. Evangeline quickly closed her fist over the coins and stuffed them back in her pockets. He laughed gently. "Relax, Your Highness; I believe those are luckless coins, the kind that Fates give their favourite humans so that they may call on them more easily. I wouldn't touch one of those if I were wearing lead gloves."

This was less than reassuring, especially since Knightlinger had just mentioned she'd saved Marisol from a Fate at some point. Perhaps the original coin was that Fate's way of keeping tabs on her, so they could enact their revenge later. Perhaps they already had, and that's why she couldn't remember anything.

And now she had two of them!

"Evangeline Fox, you are undoubtedly one of the most interesting people I've ever met." Knightlinger stepped over to the door and waved her out with a courtly bow. "And in The Magnificent North that's saying something."

JACKS

Evangeline left the Daily Rumour only a few minutes after entering. One hand clutched a stack of papers, and the other was hidden in a deep pocket in her dress. She looked perturbed.

Perhaps Jacks had grown complacent, or perhaps Evangeline was finally taking her safety seriously; but this time the second she crossed the street back the way she had come, her eyes fixed upon his hiding place in the shadows.

Him again! She thought, and Jacks could practically feel her heart beat faster. He reminded himself to be careful with his own thoughts.

"Are you lost, Little Fox?" he drawled, since it was clear she wasn't about to pass him by now that she had spotted him.

"Are you following me?"

He told himself it was a good thing that she stopped just out of reach, her eyes keeping careful watch on him as well as both ends of the street. She was finally learning to look out for herself.

"Yes, I am." He smiled widely. "Did you have a nice chat with The Daily Rumour? I'm sure they loved having an exclusive interview with the future queen of the Magnificent North."

Her eyes clouded over, and she suddenly looked completely miserable. "I'm not exactly fit for interviewing at the moment."

He might have said something witty and casually cruel at that, but there was nothing funny about her memory loss, and they fell into an awkward silence instead.

"Listen," Evangeline said, glancing in the direction of the fortune teller's building, "I have to get back to my friends, but I have questions for you. Can you walk with me?" She didn't wait for his answer before taking off again, stuffing the papers in her other pocket as she went. Presumably her absence wouldn't go unnoticed forever.

Jacks found himself following her. "You can ask your questions, but I can't promise any answers."

She scoffed, shaking her head at him. A curl of pinkish hair slipped free from her hood, bouncing in time with her steps. "How can you be one of the most frustrating people I've ever met, when I can't even remember meeting you?"

"Is that your first question?" He smirked. "It's nice to know I frustrate you."

"I imagine you frustrate everyone you meet."

"Certainly the women."

"Women plural , is it?" She scoffed again.

"Another interesting question. Did you think you were the only one, Little Fox?" As if he had so much as looked at another woman since Evangeline had worked her way into his broken heart.

They reached the busier main street, and he reached out to tuck her hair back out of sight. His fingers lingered at the base of her neck, enjoying the thrum of her pulse and the pink flush that crept over her face. Her pale complexion made it so easy to read her emotions.

"The only one who what, Mister Jacks? Her eyes searched his, and he forced his face to go blank and his hand to return to his side. "And why do you call me Little Fox?" What are you to me?

Nothing. The thought was in his head before he could blot it out, and it was clear from the light crease between Evangeline's eyebrows that she had heard it. He turned and led her back to the abandoned house so he could avoid her gaze while he silently chastised himself. Part of him wished he could pretend he had been hers; someone she could have chosen, and was allowed to choose again. But the truth was less likely to end in tears. Or blood.

"I am not 'Mister' Jacks in the Magnificent North," he told her, as if there had never been a pause after her first question. "I am known as Lord Jacks." They trotted up a dusty staircase to an even dustier attic room that seemed to span the entire row of terrace houses. "However, to you I am better known as the Prince of Hearts."

They picked their way along in the half darkness, voices lowered. "Does that mean you're a Fate?"

"Yes."

"Are you the one who I defeated when I saved Marisol's wedding?" She whispered.

"Technically, you asked me to stop that wedding."

"I did?"

"Oh yes. Something about her being a witch and him being an empty-headed fool." He thought back to Evangeline's desperate prayer, her unwavering hope that he would help her to save a man who was completely unworthy of her. "I can barely remember the details. The important thing is that you paid for my services with services of your own." He reached out and took her hand, running the pad of his thumb against the last raised scar on her wrist.

Three kisses, he thought at her. One of which remains to be paid. He pressed the scar gently, and it was as if a current of electricity passed between them. He should have brought an apple for this, he realised. Standing in the cramped darkness, talking about kissing, was far too reminiscent of the long night they had spent in a cold crypt.

Eva's breath hitched, and he was glad she couldn't see nearly as well as him in the dark because the effect on him was every bit as electric as touching her scar had been. I thought the Prince of Hearts killed people when they kissed.

"You don't use them on me," he told her quietly. "Never on me. Besides, I don't have to resort to extortion to find lovers, thank you very much."

Evangeline's free hand took something from her pocket and held it up for him to see. "Does that mean these are from you? To make sure I pay back my debt?"

There were two luckless coins sitting on her open palm. One was surely his, the same one that he had slipped into her pocket the day she had opened the Valory Arch for the second time. But for some reason, Evangeline had two of them. A jealous, possessive feeling wormed inside him that he had no right to feel. Who else was keeping tabs on her?

His hands encircled hers, forcing her fingers close back over the coins before he did something rash. He couldn't tell which was his, and if he took both away then she would be unprotected until he could replace it.

Evangeline placed both coins back in her pocket as if the idea of being tracked by an immortal Fate didn't concern her in the least. "So," she continued, her tone mild in a way that Jacks didn't trust at all, "you made the scar on my wrist?"

"Yes."

"What about the ones on my back?"

Of course she would still have the scars, he realised. Vampire venom had healed Apollo's injuries, but Evangeline's were healed by time. That time had been concentrated at The Hollow, so that weeks of healing happened in days, but a flaying like that would leave its mark regardless.

"I didn't cause them, but I know what did."

"What was it?" Her mild tone had dropped, leaving only the truth behind: Evangeline was very, very afraid. And Jacks could hardly blame her. "Please, tell me."

I'm sorry, Little Fox; it's a long story, and you don't have the time. They had reached what must have been the fortune teller's shop, the dim light of her topmost room forming the outline of a door. Someone was muttering on the other side, and they both stopped to listen.

"The Unwed Bride: she can symbolise the loss of a lover, especially next to the Prince of Hearts. The Assassin: a second chance, but not without great risk…"

Eva's body relaxed. "I think she's pretending to do my reading, so the others don't get suspicious."

"You should get back." Jacks reached for the door, but Eva reached out a hand to stop him.

"Wait, please. I…" she seemed to struggle for the right words. "I don't know who to trust anymore."

"Good," he whispered. "Being too trusting is exactly what got you into this mess."

"Did I trust you ?" Her eyes were wide, asking more than she was saying.

"Yes." He leaned in until their lips were barely a hair's breadth from touching. "Which only proves my point." He pushed the door open and ushered her through, pulling it closed behind her.

He watched through a crack as the woman doing the reading glanced up at her client's reappearance, then at the hourglass at her elbow where the last grains were just slipping into the bottom.

"I believe that concludes our reading. I hope you found what you were looking for."

"I did," Evangeline said, but rather than head back downstairs she paused at the table. Her back was to Jacks, and she blocked most of the table from his view, but it was plain that something had taken her interest, and Jacks had a good idea what it was.

"How much to buy these cards?" she asked the old woman, who shook her head.

"Please consider them a gift, Your Highness. It's clear the Fates have taken an interest in you." She collected the cards back into one stack and slipped it into a velvet pouch before handing it over. "It seems only right that you take an interest in them, too."

Jacks watched as Eva shucked her plain cloak and made her way back downstairs, fighting the urge to bang his head against the wall. It was clear that she wasn't going to give up until she knew absolutely everything, which meant she would once again be putting herself in danger.

Lala's eyes were red-rimmed from crying. Instead of letting him inside, she just peered at him while he stood awkwardly in her doorway. "What do you want?"

"That's a fine way to treat a friend," he said, unable to resist teasing her while she was so worked up. "And you wonder why I never visit."

"Snarky," she said, but stood aside to let him pass. "Is Evangeline with you?"

He froze momentarily on his way to her kitchen. "Why would she be?"

"Because she's usually with you whenever you come see me." Lala wiped fresh tears from her face. One fell to the floor with a barely-audible sizzle. "And I'd quite like to see her."

"She's a princess." He said the word 'princess' like some people might say 'mass-murderer'. "She doesn't have time for us common folk."

"Nonsense; Evangeline was never like that. Though I guess I can't complain if she's avoiding you, too."

There was a single chair sat at a tiny table in the kitchen, and Jacks took it. "Fetch me a drink, will you?"

"For one of the 'common folk,' you sure act like lord of the manor sometimes," Lala frowned at him, but turned to grab a bottle and two glasses from a shelf. She had stopped crying.

"It's a gift," he smiled.

"It's entitlement, Lord Jacks." Lala sat a glass of amber liquid in front of him and hoisted herself up onto the kitchen bench with her own in hand. "You've been like this since we were kids. The Hollow was your castle, you were its benevolent prince, and the rest of us were your loyal subjects; even the actual princes and princesses. Dane always said-" The words cut off suddenly, and her reddened eyes pressed shut. "Well," she continued, "it doesn't matter what he said. It was too long ago for him to remember, apparently."

Jacks hadn't meant for his visit to coincide with drama, so he focused on his drink until Lala got hold of her emotions again. "Circling back to Evangeline Fox for a brief moment," he said, with well-practised nonchalance, "I don't suppose you gave her anything recently?"

Lala frowned. "I told you, I haven't seen her since she returned to Wolf Hall. I heard she had a funny turn when Apollo came back, which explains why nobody's letting me visit. Why?"

"She has a luckless coin."

This caught her interest. She sat up straighter, leaning so far forward that he was surprised she didn't fall off the counter. "Other than yours, I assume?"

Jacks chose not to answer that. "It's not yours, then?"

"No." Lala bit her lip. "Maybe Castor…?"

"Castor knows better than to approach Evangeline." He didn't mean to say it so forcefully, but the thought of his best friend taking an interest in his…in Evangeline, after what he did to her…

"Poison, then? He knows her, doesn't he?"

He shook his head. "Why would he do anything now? He's supposed to be enjoying a life of leisure back in Valenda." Unless the southern Empress and her 'Fate Slayer' had finally decided to tie up the loose thread of Jacks by getting to him through Evangeline. The Dragna sisters had thus far been unsettlingly quiet, but it was possible they had heard about his efforts to find the Arch Stones and wanted to stop him ruining their Happily Ever After. Which, to be fair, had been his exact plan until Evangeline Fox had died in his arms. Now, he was forced to admit to himself that he couldn't even remember exactly what Donatella Dragna's face looked like.

"Well I promise I really don't know anything about it." Lala topped up both their glasses. "And I would tell you if I did. You're still the biggest threat to Evangeline, in my opinion, but at least I know you'd do anything for her."

He glared at her over his glass. "Don't get ahead of yourself. I just don't like other people playing with my toys."

She rolled her eyes. "Who do you think you're talking to, huh? I'm the embodiment of love unfulfilled. You think I can't feel you trying to let her go?"

"You forget: I'm incapable of love." He needed to get out of this house. Downing his glass in one burning gulp, he set it upside down on the table. A dark ring immediately formed and stained the wood. "And judging by the fact that your tears are still poison, I guess you're incapable too."