He was right, so I had no reason to feel bad about it. And if he hadn’t said it was a mistake, I would have. Because we both knew it was. We both knew it was something that could never happen again.

“It happened…” He trailed off, like he didn’t remember what he wanted to say for a second. “I don’t know why it happened, I guess, but it did.”

“It did,” I said, unsure of what else to say. “But it’s over now, and it’s probably for the best if we just pretend it never happened.”

“Right,” he said under his breath. “That’ll make everything okay again.”

“Do you have any better suggestions?” I asked him pointedly.

He pressed his lips together in a line, and his eyes darkened. “Nope. Your plan will work great.”

I ran both my hands through my hair, pushing it back from my face, and I wished he wasn’t being so difficult. “Did you tell Juni about it?”

“No. I haven’t yet.”

I rested my head against the seat and watched as the first stars began to shine in the darkening sky. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” Ridley asked.

“I just think maybe it’d be better if nobody knew about it.”

“Okay,” he said after a pregnant pause. “I mean, if that’s what you want.”

“With me being the liaison for the King and Queen, and you coming with and being my boss, I just don’t think it would look good. Especially now that I’m getting more responsibility.”

“Right. Of course,” he said, and the edge to his voice was unmistakable.

“How about some music?” I suggested, since the conversation hadn’t gone as well as I’d hoped.

Instead of waiting for him to answer, I leaned over and turned up the stereo. It was Bastille’s song “Pompeii,” one that I normally loved to sing along to, but now I just wanted it to blanket the silence between us, so I could go back to staring out the window and pretending that it didn’t kill me to be this close to Ridley.

We drove all night, and with the aid of energy drinks that Ridley really hated the taste of, he managed to stay awake. I slept some in the very early morning hours, with my head resting against the cold glass of the window, but he refused to let me drive, so I didn’t feel guilty about it.

The name Storvatten when translated roughly meant “great water,” which was fitting, since the Skojare capital was located on the northern coast of Lake Superior, not far from where the province of Ontario met Minnesota.

When we were about twenty minutes away, Ridley pulled over to the side of the road so we could freshen up. It wouldn’t be proper for us to meet with the royalty looking all disheveled and unkempt. He stood to the side of the Land Rover, changing from his jeans into a sharp suit, while I crawled into the way-back of the SUV.

I’d debated whether to wear a pantsuit or a dress before finally deciding that a dress would probably be more fitting, and then hurriedly applied makeup and fixed my hair. Ridley had already gotten back in the driver’s seat when I climbed into the front, carefully so he wouldn’t get a look up my skirt. With dresses, I never wore anything with a hem that went past my knees, so it wouldn’t restrict my movement if I needed to fight.

The Skojare palace was supposed to be quite beautiful, and as we approached it, with the rising sun backlighting it with pinks and yellows on the lake, it did not disappoint. The palace was half submerged in water, with the top half sitting on the lake like an island. The entrance was on land, a docklike walkway made of rocks and wood that led to the front door.

Ridley stopped at the end of the dock, where a footman told us he’d alert the King to our arrival, before taking our SUV to park in a nearby garage. As we walked out on the dock—stretching nearly a mile out to the palace—I raised my hand over my eyes, shielding them from the sun, so I could get a better look at the palace.

It was astounding, unlike the palace in Doldastam or the Trylle palace in Förening that I had visited once. Those were beautiful, but they looked like mansions or castles. This was otherworldly, with glass walls shaped into swirls and spirals that pierced the heavens.

When we reached the doors—made of heavy iron—Ridley knocked loudly, and I stared up at the fantastic structure that towered above us. The Skojare must’ve had a very strong power of persuasion, so they could convince locals around here that they weren’t seeing this majestic castle. It was translucent blue, which helped camouflage it with the lake, but the only real way to get humans from interfering was to trick them with psychokinesis.

“You look really nice,” Ridley said, pulling my attention back to him. His hands were folded neatly in front of him, and he looked straight ahead at the door. “I always thought you looked good in dresses. You’ve got the gams for them.”

“Gams?” I asked in surprise.

He smirked. “It’s a cooler word for legs.”

I gaped at him, trying to think of a way to respond, but then the palace door swung open, and we stepped inside.

THIRTY-ONE

great water

Inside, the palace reminded me of ice. Many of the walls were made of frosted glass several feet thick. The glass itself appeared bluish, but it had been sandblasted to make it opaque. The other walls were covered in a silvery blue wallpaper that looked like frost.

The glass walls that surrounded the spacious main hall had been shaped to look like waves, making it seem as if we were standing in the center of a whirlpool. The floor was made of several large panes of glass, allowing us to see down into the pool below.