“These wounds look fresh,” he said softly. “What happened?”
“Kitchen accident. Hot oil.”
“Hmm. You should be more careful. I have salves in my study that could help.”
My skin crawled.
“Oh, for the gods’ sake.” Taryn’s voice cut through the room like a whip. “Stop fondling the servants. It’s nauseating this early in the morning.”
Henrik didn’t release my hand. “I’m checking on the girl’s health.”
“We don’t have time for your games,” she snapped. “This house needs to be spotless before tonight.”
Henrik released me. “Ah. Yes.”
“The girls need to be cleaning, not standing here while you play with them.” She stood, tossing her napkin on the table. “Honestly, Henrik.”
She stormed off. Henrik waved me away, and I retreated to the wall on shaking legs. Rheya moved to clear Taryn’s plate. Our eyes met for half a second, pure terror reflected back at me.
Henrik’s chair scraped back, and he stood. “Aelie, my offer stands. That hand must be quite painful.”
I tucked it behind my back as the door closed behind him. Then Rheya and I quietly cleared the table, not daring to speak. The fae had hearing like wolves. They could be listening from anywhere.
She grabbed the coffee pot and mouthed:We’re fucked.
I could only nod.
We cleaned like penitent sinners. By evening, my palm had swollen despite hours of careful work. We’d polished every piece of silver twice because Taryn would accept nothing less for tonight’s mysterious guest.
The scent of roasted meat saturated the air. Rheya hacked at a cutting board with sharpthunks. Her brown hair had slipped from its braid, strands clinging to her gleaming forehead. She gripped the knife.
Her eyes flashed—green-gold, wild enough to make grown men flinch. “We should just take a horse. Ride out tonight. We’ve snuck into the royal stables before. We can do it again.”
My mouth twitched. “And then what? Gallop through the gates while Runecloaks make their rounds? You’d last three streets before they sank an arrow through your back.”
“We’d go fast.”
“They’d catch us.” I picked up another fork. “And then we’d both have our throats cut at the Rite.”
Rheya glared at me. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. Running blind is exactly how you end up dead. We wait until there’s a real chance. Not before.”
“Who do you think this guest is?”
“Whoever they are, they’ve put Lady Taryn in a state. She’s been pacing all day.”
Rheya stilled. “What if it’s about the robbery?”
“Pray they’re here for dinner, not us.”
I wrung my hand, grimacing at the mark on my wrist. The ache from the rune lingered like splinters beneath my skin. When a rune broke, the magic had to go somewhere.
Human bodies weren’t made for magic. The fae were like riverbeds. Magic moved through them, but I was brittle. When I snapped a rune, it was like forcing fire through dry bark. It burned whatever it touched. Once, the shock had knocked me unconscious for an hour.
Magic had never worked right around us. Rheya amplified runes, and I unraveled them. No one ever taught us how or why. It justwas, like the world had stitched us wrong.
Rheya sawed through a loaf of bread and tossed me the end piece. She scooped wine-glazed quail into bowls, and we bolted down a quick meal on the counter.
