Light spills through the windows lining each ornate hallway.

I almost wince at the sheer brightness of it all, having been locked within my dungeon—otherwise known as the study. Emerald carpet softens my steps while each stationed Imperial struggles not to stare at the sight of me.

I slipped the box into my pocket, though I’m not entirely sure why. I’ve come to the conclusion that the constant feel of it helps convince me that I’m in control of the situation. That I’m making the right decision. But the box feels heavy against my leg, slowing each of my steps.

Following the wafting smell of dinner, I turn down another hall, earning shy smiles from passing servants. I self-consciously run a hand through my hair, hoping I didn’t look like the mad king they all whisper about.

I ventured from my study in the hopes that they would gossip about something else for a change. Perhaps about how I’ve scrubbed the ink from my hands and exchanged my crumpled shirt for a crisp new one. Or how I ate my meal this morning instead of dumping it from the window. If nothing else, the fact that I left the study at all will earn their attention.

Warm light leaks beneath the kitchen doors, pooling around my feet when I falter to a stop. The knots in my stomach seem to tighten at the sound of her booming voice, familiar and frightening all at once. I’ve been avoiding her, and I’m not quite ready to deal with the consequences of that decision.

I turn, retreating down the hallway like the coward I am. A servant passes by on her way to the kitchen, averting my gaze when I attempt to meet hers.

Great. Now I’ve been spotted tiptoeing around my own castle.

I’m really not helping my case.

I have all of eight seconds before the cook has caught me.

“Kitt?” She says this with the tone of a question but the volume of a shout.

I spin, spotting her head peeking from between the kitchen doors. With a forced smile, I make my way back over to the bustling kitchen.

“Hi, Gail,” I say, sounding far too sheepish for a king. She swings open the door, allowing me full view of her floured face and food-splattered apron.

There is a split second where I’m convinced she hates me, convinced I’m nothing more than the rumors. Nothing more than the mad king she is now forced to serve.

But the second passes, and in the next, I’m being pulled into a crushing hug. “Oh, my sweet Kitt!” Flour-streaked arms encircle me, flooding every cold crack in my heart with warmth. When she finally pulls away, it’s with a wide smile on her face. “Come in, come in! I have somethin’ for you.”

I’m dragged into the kitchen, feeling like the boy she raised. Dozens of eyes widen at the sight of me before quickly darting away. Servants scurry out of the way as Gail guides me to the counter where Kai and I typically loiter.

“I’ve been makin’ some every day, hoping you’d come and see me.” She pushes a covered plate toward me, lifting the napkin atop it to reveal a glistening sticky bun.

The smile that forms on my lips feels foreign. “Thank you, Gail.” I clear my throat. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited sooner.”

Her gaze softens. “Well, you’re a busy man now.”

“Unfortunately,” I say, as lightly as I can muster.

She eyes me, seeing something on my face that warrants her yelling, “All of you, out! Five-minute break before we plate the food.”

No one questions the order. In a matter of seconds, each servant has filed out the double doors and spilled into the hallway beyond. When it’s quiet enough to hear me bite into the sticky bun, Gail pins her scrutiny back on me.

“Heard you’ve been dumpin’ my meals out your window.” She raises an eyebrow. “Not up to your standards anymore?”

“No,” I say defensively. Then again because her eyebrow continues its climb up her forehead. “No, of course not. I just… don’t have the appetite I used to.”

“Hmm.” She nods at the sticky bun, silently ordering me to take another bite. It’s only when I have that she says, “Is that why one of my girls told me you were walkin’ away from my kitchen? No appetite for dinner?”

I nod, knowing that it’s safer to do so than admit I’ve been avoiding this interaction. She nods back, though I doubt she believes me. “How are you doing, Kitty?”

Her question halts the sticky bun on its way to my mouth. This is the exact reason why I didn’t want to face her. Because she’ll make me talk about it.

“I’m better.”

I think. Maybe. I actually don’t remember what better is supposed to feel like.

“I know how difficult this has been for you,” she says softly—a rare occurrence for her. “Not only about your father, but also…”

She hesitates at even the insinuation of how much I cared for her. How much it hurt when she betrayed me like she did, killing my father and more than a piece of myself in the process.

“Yes,” I manage, “it’s been difficult. But I’ve had help.” I think of Calum and his guidance, of Kai and his effort to salvage the relationship I may have ruined.

She nods, rubbing a napkin across my cheek as though I’m still the toddler she once scooped into her arms. But I don’t fight it. It’s comforting, being cared for. Nice to pretend that Gail is the mother I never got to meet.

“Kitty, because I love you,” she begins evenly, “I have to ask.” There is a long pause before she gains enough courage to let the words spill out. “What do you plan to do with her once Kai brings her back?”

I almost muster a laugh. “If he brings her back.”

“Don’t you say that,” she scolds, ignoring the fact that it’s the king now standing before her. “Of course he will bring her back to you. And not because it is his duty, but because he loves you.”

“And what if he loves her more?”

The words tumble from my mouth, conjured from my deepest fears. I’ve barely allowed myself to think it, let alone speak of it. But what’s worse is the way that Gail’s face never changes. Her expression is blank, her back straight and eyes unblinking. As though this isn’t her first time hearing the question. As though she’s asked herself the same one.

I look away, desperate to focus on anything but the question hanging between us. My eyes land on a thin candle tucked into the corner of a counter. I nod toward it, desperate to change the subject. “Is it someone’s birthday? There is a cake candle out.”

“Oh,” Gail says slowly, walking over to snatch up the candle. “I found one for Kai, but it was too late. I meant to put it away a long while ago.”

“For Kai…?” Realization cuts off my question. I run a hand down my face, shaking my head at the ground. “Ava.”

I’d forgotten. I’d forgotten despite knowing exactly how important her birthday is to him. I’ve never missed a morning under the willow. Until now, that is.

I swallow, feeling emotion begin to sting my eyes. The urge to pour my thoughts onto a page is suddenly overwhelming. I blink at the kitchen, wishing I had never left the comfort of my study—my dungeon. As I back away from Gail, the doors swing open, spilling servants into the room. I don’t hesitate before pushing my way through the chaos, watching bodies leap away from my frantic form.

Let them think I’m mad. Maybe I am. Maybe it’s better that way.

I hear a shout that resembles my name.

I don’t look back.