It seemed absurd, but the way he’d sounded talking about losing his wife—Ava had been right. Maybe he was some almighty god with the power to raise the dead, but he was also a very lonely guy. I knew what that kind of loss and loneliness felt like, and if there was anything I could do to stop anyone else from feeling that way, I would do it.

Maybe choosing me hadn’t been such an accident after all.

My dress for the ball wasn’t just ugly—it was painful. Much to my horror, Ella had her way and stuffed me into a corset, and she spent nearly half an hour lacing it as tightly as she could. I wasn’t a willing participant, breathing out when I should’ve been breathing in, but it took her no time at all to figure out what I was doing.

“I can wait until you take a breath,” she said. “You have to eventually.”

“Why do I need a corset?” I said. “Did you die in the eighteenth century or something?”

Ella scoffed. “Hardly. I think they look nice, and I enjoy torturing you. Now suck it up.”

The only person Ella didn’t force into a corset was Ava, who looked stunning in a blue dress that matched her eyes, and as she helped me through the corridors, I tried to breathe in as slowly and as deeply as my corset allowed. I could get through this. It was only a few hours, and then it’d be over.

“Ready?” said Ava as she bounced on the balls of her feet. We stood outside the ballroom, waiting to be announced. Ella and Calliope, who were already inside, had stumbled all over themselves that afternoon, giving me instruction after instruction on how to behave. Stand up straight, greet everyone with a smile, be polite, don’t say anything that’d get me into trouble, don’t mention the outside world, don’t tell anyone how I really felt about all of this, and don’t under any conditions be myself. Easy enough.

“Don’t think I have a choice,” I mumbled. I was supposed to walk into the room immediately after I was announced. Small steps, Calliope had said, making sure to point my toes as I walked. When I’d mentioned the fact that no one would be able to see my feet underneath the satin and lace, she’d ignored me. “What if whoever killed the other girls tries to kill me?”

“I’ll be right there the whole time,” said Ava. “So will Henry and the council. If anyone tries to kill you, they’ll have to get through all of us. Now don’t forget to breathe.”

Fainting would be the perfect way out of this, but knowing my luck, they’d just hold another ball once I recovered.

Two men on either side of the doors pulled them open for us, and my heart pounded so loudly that they probably heard it on the other side of the room. For a moment I couldn’t make anything out in the dim light of the ballroom, but soon I could see inside. The room was gigantic, bigger than Eden High School’s cafeteria and gym combined, and the only sources of light came from ornate chandeliers. Everyone was dressed as fancily as I was, and I got the distinct impression that this was the social event of the century.

And hundreds of pairs of eyes were focused directly on me.

“Kate?” said Ava. I must’ve swayed, because she took me by the elbow, her grip stronger than I expected. “Kate, breathe.”

In and out, in and out—why was this harder than it was supposed to be?

“Kate, do something!” hissed Ava. “Everyone’s watching.”

That was the problem.

Being the center of attention had never been my thing. Once, in elementary school, long before my mother had gotten ill, my so-called friends had talked me into performing in a dance routine for the school talent show. I couldn’t even step onto the stage, I’d been so nervous, and when they’d pushed me out in front of all those people, I’d promptly thrown up right in the middle of the theater. Not my proudest moment.

This time, my only saving grace was the fact that there wasn’t anything in my stomach to come up. I could do this, I thought. One foot in front of the other—that’s all it took.

“Okay,” I said, taking a step forward. The silence that had fallen over the crowd turned into nervous whispers, and with every move I made, I could feel the burn of their stares.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” called the herald. “I present to you Miss Katherine Winters.”

Wild applause filled the air, and if I hadn’t felt humiliated enough before, now I wanted to die. At least Ava was still by my side and gripping my elbow. Every bad thought I’d ever had about her evaporated. “Look, Kate—the guards! Look at them,” she whispered excitedly. “Aren’t they gorgeous?”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the two men I’d noticed at breakfast the morning before. Ella had said they’d go with me everywhere, but this was the first time I’d seen them since. The dark-haired man was giving me—no, Ava—a coy smile. The blond was just as still as before, watching the crowd diligently.

Much to my relief, I spotted Henry on top of a platform on the other side of the room. Under the low light, he looked as attractive as ever, but while he caught my eye, he wasn’t what held my attention. Behind him stood fourteen thrones—actual, real-life thrones. None of them were occupied, but they didn’t have to be. I understood immediately.

The council was here.

If Henry was right and the impossible was possible, then those fourteen people were the things myths were made of, and I was supposed to—what? Walk up to them, shake their hands, and introduce myself?