“May I speak with you privately?” I implore Godmother. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know about why I left the way I did, but I’d rather just share it with you alone.”
“I can see this is difficult for you, Sophia, but your request isn’t a private one, is it? Every person at this table has a stake in how this goes. Still, I understand it can be difficult to speak of such traumatic memories. I will help you.” Godmother claps her hands and yells over her shoulder. “Bring the tea!”
A pixie whom I don’t recognize rushes from the kitchen and places a tea service in front of us. There’s only one cup. My skin goose bumps, and my stomach drops. Godmother pours for me. “Drink.”
Arden stills and meets my eyes. She’s remembering what I told her. Godmother’s confections come with magical strings attached. But I have no choice. With a trembling hand, I reach for the cup. Fuck, I’m shaking so hard the tea sloshes and almost spills. Godmother gives me a warning glare, and I use my opposite hand to steady it as I bring it to my lips. I’m terrified, but worse, I feel trapped. There really is no other option. The second I stepped through the moon gate and set foot in Devashire, I made a choice. Arden and I are safer here than being hunted by FIRE. Now I need to trust that instinct.
“Tell me why you ran away.” Godmother’s command leaves her full, burgundy lips and plows between mine, wriggling over my tongue like a living thing and branching out into my lungs. I try to fight it, but when it slithers up again, along the back of my throat, it expands like a set of clamps that scrape up around my skull and squeeze. The pressure is intense. It’s like an industrial vacuum has been hooked up to my mouth and will suck out my brains if I don’t plug the hose up with words.
My lips start moving of their own volition, and the truth pours out of me in a forced jumble. “Seven… stood me up at the Yule Ball…” I try to force my lips to stop but each word gives me relief from the pressure. Holding back is agony. My sinuses throb. My ears ring. I have to give her more. “I… rode through Winter Wood… alone. Everyone laughed. I was… humiliated… After, I met a human man.” I gasp at this admission, and tears start to flow. My head pounds like it might explode. The truth is pried from me by a magical crowbar. “Later… learned I was pregnant… the human way.” So far, nothing I’ve said surprises Arden, but it’s the next bit I wish I could hold back. The spell won’t let me. I can’t fight the compulsion. “My parents couldn’t accept it… I left because… I left because…” Tears course over my cheeks and drip from my jaw. I try to hold back, but it’s impossible. My skull is in a vise. Magic crushes my brain, pressure building until sweat drips down my face. I must turn bloodless, because Arden cries out. Godmother warns for her to stay in her chair. Permanent damage is highly possible if I don’t relieve the pressure in my head, and in the end, I can’t resist feeding the magic what it wants. “I left because… they wanted me to terminate the pregnancy. I wanted… to keep… my baby! I… wanted… Arden to live!”
As soon as the last words are out, the pain ceases. I slump over the table, my brain blissfully free of the skull-crushing suction. I close my eyes and let my thoughts float away, my mind blanking out.
“The Yule Ball, sixteen years ago…,” Godmother mumbles. “Yes, I remember that night and the humiliation you sustained. And certainly this young lady was worth your sacrifice to save.” I can’t see her with my head buried in my arms on the table, but there’s a long stretch of silence as if she’s contemplating something. “Sit up, Sophia. I have made my decision.”
I sit up. Only now do I notice that Arden’s face is sheet white. I squeeze her hand. It must have been hard for her to watch me go through that and to learn that her grandparents weren’t receptive to my pregnancy with her. I give her a small nod to let her know I’m all right. Across the table, Seven is staring at Arden too, eyes narrowed, a line between his brows. He seems genuinely concerned for her.
Gee, thanks.Not that I don’t want him to worry about Arden, but I’m the one who just had a confession magically roto-rooted from my brain. Actually, I do mind. I want him to stop looking at Arden. It’s weird.
“Sophia Larkspur, while I can appreciate your motives for leaving Devashire, it does not excuse your actions. You should have come to me with your problem. I hope this lesson has taught you there are no answers in the human world that can’t be found in Devashire.”
“Yes, Godmother. I see that now.” I hope I’m convincing. The truth is, I doubt very much that Godmother would have been any more compassionate about a half-human pregnancy than my parents. “Can we stay?”
“You may stay in Devashire.”
I breathe a sigh of relief.
“On one condition.”
I look up, holding my breath again.
“You will assist Seven in a security matter important to our realm.”
“What?” Assist Seven?
“You will serve at his beck and call until the case is closed and he delivers the answers I seek.”
“B-b-but—”
“These are your terms. Do you accept?”
Godmother’s magic always comes at a price. It takes me a second to get my mouth to work. Seven watches me from across the table, his expression unreadable. Beck and call. He must love this.
“Sophia?”
“Yes. Yes. Of course, Godmother.” If it means keeping Arden safe, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.
She hands me a small biscuit from the tea tray. “Then eat.”
Hazarding a glance toward Arden, I hesitate for a moment. Once I eat this, there will be no going back until whatever this security issue I’ve committed to is solved. Freedom will be something I watch in my rearview mirror. I’m about to enter a prison without bars. But Arden will be free. She’ll be able to go to college as we planned. I’ll find a way… somehow. For her, I steel my resolve and place the biscuit into my mouth. As I chew, voices fill my head in a rush. Invisible vines jut into me, coiling and twisting in my veins. Fae chains. I am bound. I swallow down the last of it, suddenly exhausted.
“Thank you, Godmother.”
She reaches across the table, and we shake hands, sealing our bargain. I move to stand.
“Sit down. We’re not finished yet,” Godmother says. Confused, I glance at Seven, but his expression is entirely unreadable. I sink back into my chair.
Godmother turns toward Arden. “There is still the matter of your daughter. What price shall she pay to stay among us?”
