“I think you should come,” Thorn replied after a moment’s reflection. “Alone, preferably.” “Excuse me?” With the poor reception and crackling on the line, Ophelia couldn’t dismiss the possibility that she’d misheard. “I’m arranging a meeting with you. An official meeting, between future husband and future wife. Can you still hear me?” “Yes, yes, I can hear you,” she stammered. “But really, why see each other? I’ve just told you that . . .” “We simply can’t allow ourselves to be enemies,” cut in Thorn. “You’re making my life difficult with your resentment; it’s imperative that we become
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