"So?" Michael said, one leg crossed over the other as he fixed his gaze on Melody, seated across from him. His voice was calm — almost too calm, given the circumstances.
For the past three years, he had been little more than a passive bystander, forced to move in lockstep with the Winterbornes' plans. At first, he had told himself it was a mutually beneficial arrangement, something he could justify as a fair trade.
But now, here at the academy — dropped into what felt like a political minefield—the balance seemed tipped entirely against him. The dangers outweighed any possible gain. And judging by Melody's guarded demeanor, she knew far more than she'd ever let on.
"Care to explain yourself? Why is it that nearly every teenager our age is vying for your hand?" Michael asked evenly. "Who is Magnus? And why did he call you 'cousin'? Is he tied to the royal family?"
