Their groans of frustration grated on Sin’s nerves, but she kept her eyes on the floor, fearful of them catching the rebellious glint in her eyes.
“And Sin?” Vivienne’s voice startled her. “You’ll stay here and make sure the house is spotless for our return in two days’ time.”
Sin nodded, keeping her face expressionless. Inside, her mind spun with an impossibly daring idea.
As Belladonne and Ricina pouted like children, Sin’s pulse raced. The thrill of forming a dangerous and likely fatal plan mingled with the sharp edge of fear. She could already feel the weight of Vivienne’s enchanted stilettos in her hands once she’d taken them.
If they would be away, she could go to the ball. Her hidden savings might be enough to convince Magnolia to glamour herscars for just one night, and those stilettos might be powerful enough for the glamour to last until sunrise.
The thought of such freedom, however fleeting… It made her pulse race and chest tighten with anticipation. Magnolia had always insisted that witches protect one another, and despite the risks, Sin believed the older witch would not deny her this small rebellion—a chance to glimpse freedom, however short-lived.
She’d steal the shoes and ask Magnolia to use them for the glamour spell, but like Vivienne had done to her mother. A kind of revenge that would have Vivienne spitting like a cat with outrage. The image made the corners of Sin’s mouth threaten to lift.
Doing this would be risky. If Vivienne noticed they were gone, the punishment would be severe, possibly death. But without them, the glamour might falter, and her secret would unravel. One night. Just one night to feel life in her blood.
With great effort, she stifled the spark of hope threatening to bloom on her face as she stood in the corner of the dining room, counting the minutes until they left.
Prince Maximus - two days later
Moonlight bathed the ships in a ghostly glow, shadows shifting as the waves lapped against the hulls.
Hidden within a secluded area of the city’s docks, Maximus, the eldest prince and heir to the fae throne of Othilia, meets with the pirates.
Around him, they leaned against barrels or perched on crates, their scarred faces illuminated by the flickering glow of lanterns. Their calculating gazes bore into him, testing him as they had for years.
Across the table, Captain Wolcott leaned casually, his gloved hands resting on the table as he studied the map laid across its surface.
“You called this meeting with urgency, Max.” Wolcott’s voice was low, his words slipping into the quiet like the hiss of a blade being drawn. “Your party has been a fine distraction, but the risk grows by the hour. Do you have something worth our time?”
He clenched his teeth, biting back a sharp retort. He hated how Wolcott could make even an ally feel like they were being interrogated.
“My father grows complacent, but the people of Iostra do not,” Max replied, his tone sharper than intended. “The kingdoms will intervene if we don’t act, and when that happens, we’ll lose control of this rebellion. We need a sea witch. What about Ursula?”
At the mention of her name, the pirates shifted uneasily. A few exchanged glances, their discomfort palpable in the cool night air. Wolcott didn’t flinch.
“Ursula,” he echoed, the name rolling off his tongue with a faint sneer. “Aside from her being unreliable as hell? She’s as elusive as smoke on the wind. And good luck finding her. You realize King Triton sent emissaries to your father last week, don’t you? No doubt whispering that your rebellion is nothing more than a ploy to weaken the seas he claims as his own.”
Max forced his shoulders to relax, though the tension in his chest coiled tighter, a serpent stirring beneath his skin. “It doesn’t matter, because my father still doesn’t know I’m involved. And Triton would know about ploys, wouldn’t he? The Sea King’s been vying for control of Othilian ports since before I was born.” At one-hundred and eighty-three years old, you’d think he would’ve given up by now. Wolcott had been holding this port for over seven centuries, alongside the sea witch, Iris, before she died.
Wolcott’s lips twisted in a faint sneer. “True, but he’s not just sending whispers anymore. Word is, he’s offering your father his trident’s power in exchange for a permanent alliance. And if your rebellion fails, Max, he won’t hesitate to claim every inch of Othilia’s coast as his.”
Max’s fist slammed against the table, rattling the lanterns. “Which is exactly why I need Ursula. She’s the only one with enough power to match him.”
Wolcott’s lips twisted in a faint sneer. “You think she’ll help you? Triton’s wrath is the reason she’s in hiding, Max. If she comes out of the shadows to back you, she’ll be drawing a target on her back that even your rebellion can’t shield her from.”
Max’s jaw worked as he fought back frustration. “She’s my only option.”
Wolcott tilted his head. “Your only option, maybe. But not hers. If Ursula doesn’t want to be found, no amount of maps or smugglers will change that.”
Max clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms. The tension in his shoulders coiled tighter, a serpent stirring beneath his skin. He exhaled sharply, the faintest hiss slipping past his lips, a reminder of the half-shifter blood.
Wolcott’s gaze flicked toward him, sharp as ever. “You’ve been grasping at straws lately. This rebellion is teetering, Max. The sooner your father’s off the throne, the sooner you’re on it.”
Max’s eyes hardened. “Let’s not waste time with fantasies. My goal is to free Othilia, not to rule it.”
Wolcott’s smile was faint, the kind that never reached his eyes. “That’s what you tell yourself, isn’t it?” His attention shifted back to the map, his fingers tracing routes with a practiced ease. “I’ve set eyes in the southern coves. Smugglers owe me favors, and if there’s a whisper of Ursula, I’ll hear it.”
Wolcott’s fingers traced the edges of the map, his gloved hands brushing over faint glyphs etched along its borders—wards and spells long since faded, remnants of a magic only a few still understood. “I know more about the old magics than you give me credit for, Max. If Ursula is using wards or spells to hide, I’ll find them.”
