Once she’d finished, he told her the real story, every last painful moment of it. From agreeing to the arranged marriage to their disastrous wedding night to Persephone’s affairs. Especially with James.

And rather than ask question after question as she usually did, Ingrid remained quiet. He’d never told anyone before, not like this, not as if it was ancient history. A small piece of his burden lifted away with each word he spoke, and once he was finished, he felt strangely empty. Not healed, but as if there was room for more now.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “It’s terrible, what you had to go through.”

“I’m afraid I brought it on myself,” he said with a small, sad smile, and Ingrid furiously shook her head.

“You’re crazy. Of course that isn’t your fault. You were as much a victim as she was, and you didn’t—you didn’t do anything wrong. She’s the one who broke your heart.”

“I am the one who forced her into marriage to begin with.”

“No, her mother forced her into marriage. You did everything you could to make an awful situation livable for both of you.” She shifted closer to him on the bench, her hand sliding up his arm to settle on his shoulder. “I get why you don’t love me the way I want you to, and I won’t ever pressure you, I promise. But do yourself a favor and at least try to move on, would you? Even if we’re only ever friends, we could be happy. Really, really happy.”

“I would like nothing more,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Persephone is my past, one I cannot ever forget. But you, Ingrid, are my future. And for the first time in an eon, I do not dread it.”

Ingrid leaned toward him, brushing her lips against the corner of his mouth. It was such an intimate gesture that Henry nearly moved back, but he couldn’t. Not when it could mean losing Ingrid. “You better not,” she murmured with a playful smile. “We’re going to be happy together—you know that, right?”

“I do.” Or at least he hoped so.

“Good.” Another grin, and her blue eyes sparkled. “Now, I’m serious about those seeds. There has to be a ceremony to make this all official. That’s the only way you can do it, you know.”

“Is that so?” he said, amused, and he clasped her hand in his. “Very well. For you, I will do it.”

She squealed and threw her arms around his neck. “Can I wear a dress? A really pretty one?”

“The most beautiful dress you can think of,” he promised, kissing her knuckles. “You can have whatever you want.”

Her grin relaxed into a warm smile, and she cupped his cheek. “Hasn’t anyone told you? I already do.”

Her words were a greater salve than any medication in the world, and he gathered her up, holding her in the sunshine. They would be happy together. Perhaps not as happy as he’d once wanted to be with Persephone, but Ingrid was all the things Persephone never was. And Henry knew exactly how lucky he was to have found her.

The weeks passed until finally it was the night of the ceremony. Ingrid had planned every detail, from her dress to the food to where the council would sit. They had obliged her at Henry’s request, though he suspected they would have anyway, considering how pleased they seemed to be at the prospect that he wouldn’t fade. Regardless, everything was falling into place. Only three more tests, and she would finally be one of them.

As the council arrived and settled in the throne room, Henry headed toward Ingrid’s suite. He was on edge, his nerves frayed and his stomach doing flip-flops, but he did his best to appear as calm and composed as he normally did. Even if Ingrid did not make the best of impressions on the council, it didn’t matter what they thought of her. What mattered was that she pass the tests, and so far she was doing marvelously. Everything would be all right.

Knocking on her door, he waited, expecting she was putting the finishing touches on her hair. She wouldn’t be late, after all, not to her own party. But as the seconds ticked by with no answer, he knocked again.

Silence.

“Ingrid?” he called. Had he perhaps missed her on the way to the throne room? No, there was only one direct path, and she had no reason to take another. “Ingrid, I am coming in.”

Opening the door, he didn’t know what he expected. Ingrid curled up in bed, perhaps, struck down by anxiety. Or her with pins in her mouth, putting the finishing touches on her hair.

What he did not expect was to see her crumpled on the floor, lost in the layers of her yellow dress. And bleeding from the head.

He was by her side in an instant, his body numb as he searched her for signs of life. But as soon as he’d spotted her, he’d known: she was gone. His best friend was dead.

A scream unlike any other ripped through the halls of Eden Manor, and it took Henry several moments before he realized it was him. He cradled her body, trying to will life back into it, but the bubbly girl he’d loved was lost.

“Brother?” Diana’s voice whispered toward him, and the air beside him shifted as she appeared. “Oh. Oh. Is she…?”

He nodded, his eyes filled with tears and his throat closed. He clutched her fragile body to his chest, his fingers tangling in her blood-soaked hair. This wasn’t an accident. She was in the middle of the suite, far from anything that could’ve caused so much as a knock on the head, let alone a fatal injury. And her skull was all but crushed.

“Who did this?” Walter’s voice rumbled behind Henry, but he didn’t turn toward him. He couldn’t move.