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Twenty-One I’m pulled slowly toward consciousness by the growing ache in my neck. My eyelids peel back a fraction, revealing a mottled pattern of light and dark, before sliding shut again. I try to stretch out of the painful position I seem to be lying in, but a rustling prickliness obstructs my limbs. I become aware of the smell of soil and the texture of hard earth beneath my cheek, and that’s when every horrifying detail of the Seelie Palace party slams into me. The Queen is dead. Princess Audra is dead. Princess Angelica has claimed the crown. And the last I saw of Chase, he was lying motionless upon the dais, his body battered, bloody and broken. My head swims as I push myself up into a sitting position. I blink a few times before I can focus on anything. Through the rosebush le