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I had to be sure about now. I reached for his face, trailing the soft skin of his temples down tothe roughness of his cheek, where the beginnings of a shadow were starting. “Are you in love with me, Rand?”
    “Yes, very much so,” he answered without hesitation. “But my love for you isn’t why I asked you to stay behind. I need to know what happened in 1878, Jolie. Why did I give you my mother’s ring? What were the circumstances?”
    “Rand—” I swallowed down a huge lump of nervousness. Something that felt like angst began to well in my gut and before I could even fathom what I was doing, I was already doing it. I stared into Rand’s eyes and felt the words swirling through my head, felt the chant ricochet through me, recognizing the duplicity in my actions but seemingly unable to do anything about it.
    I can’t discuss the facts of 1878 with you, Rand. Focus on another topic—ask me about any other subject in the forefront of your mind
.
    It hadn’t even occurred to me that maybe Rand, being the powerful warlock he was, would be immune to my magic, and luckily for me it didn’t appear that he was. Instead his eyes took on the same dreamy expression I’d witnessed whenever I used witchcraft to influence someone.
    “Do you intend to become Queen?” he interrupted. I felt my entire body deflate with relief, even as guilt started eating me from the feet up. The relief was a mere respite, though, because the subject of whether or not I intended to become Queen was about as welcome as the bonding conversation.
    “I don’t want to deter you, Jolie, but I want to ensure this is what you want and that you aren’t just acting as Mercedes’ puppet.”
    “I …” I didn’t know what to say.
    “Mercedes is very demanding, and I want to make certain someone is looking out for your best interests,” Rand finished.
    And that was Rand to a T. He was always looking out for my best interests, making sure I was taken care of—that I was safe.
    “I don’t know what I’ll do,” I said finally, looking down at my hands where his mother’s ring sparkled up at me. I almost felt like I should take it off again—offer it back to him. Because the truth of the matter was that I had no right to wear it.
    He nodded. “I want you to make the decision for yourself—not because Mercedes is breathing down your neck or because you feel like you owe it to the creatures of the Underworld. On the other hand, don’t deny yourself the title if it’s what you truly want.”
    I glanced up at him, pushing all of the worried thoughts from my mind. “And if the throne was what I wanted, would you support me?”
    Rand dropped his gaze and chewed his lip. “You know my thoughts on the subject, Jolie. I cannot abide by any form of monarchy.”
    “I know,” I was quick to respond.
    Rand’s smile was unexpected and secretive. “Have I ever told you why?”
    Hmm, come to think of it, he hadn’t. I’d always figured it was just one of those things that made Rand Rand. Sort of like his deep brown eyes and his dimpled smile.
    “No, you haven’t.”
    He nodded and, standing, took a few steps away from me, crossing his arms against his chest before turning back to face me again. “In 1870 I was appointed ambassador to the United States by Queen Victoria.”
    I felt my eyes widen in surprise. “You were?”
    Rand chuckled. “I’d already lived a full and colorful life before you came into it, Jolie.”
    “Go on.”
    “In my position as ambassador, I spent quite a bit of time with your president at the time, Ulysses Grant.”
    “Grant as in the Civil War hero?” I asked, my mouth dropping open again.
    Rand laughed. “It appears your knowledge of history is quite good. Yes, your Civil War hero.” He took a deep breath. “In the three years that I represented British interests where America was concerned, I developed a keen admiration and love for the American way—for the emphasis placed on equality and justice for all