Fable lay in bed that night, feeling empty inside. The Prime Minister’s words rang in her head, asking her to do something unthinkable.

‘Make him fall in love with you, deeply in love with you, and I’ll handle the rest.’

Fable shut her eyes, forcing her head into the pillow to block out the woman’s words, but it hadn’t worked for the past few hours. Why would it now?

‘Then you accept his invitation to the Masquerade and don’t come. ...