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*Isla* “No.” It’s the only word I can get out as I stare into my cousin’s eyes. He is unblinking, unwavering, as he stares right back at me, the last word he uttered hanging in the air between us. I won’t believe it. I can’t believe it. Nothing that he has just told me makes any sense at all, and if by some crazy, un-understandable reason it is true, Maddox would’ve already told me about it. After all, I spoke to him just last night, and he said nothing about any queen consort, any contest, any new women coming to the castle to compete for his hand—in marriage. No, I won’t believe it. I can’t even let the idea of it being the truth register in my mind, because if it were true, if there was even the smallest possibility that Antony isn’t just making all of this up to make me want to le