Something in his tone made my stomach twist. Not cruel, exactly, but loaded with meaning I couldn't grasp.

The apple came flying at me faster than I expected. I fumbled it, nearly let it slip through my fingers before managing to get a grip. The fruit felt heavier than it should have, cool and solid in my sweaty palms.

I stared down at it, my mind spinning in circles. An apple. Just a piece of fruit. But why did it feel like he'd handed me a loaded gun?

"Thank you, Duke Valtier," I managed, the ...