“Fine,” I say, taking the insult and pushing his hand off my cup. I wish I had my frying pan—I’d bash his head in. “I appreciate the reminder, my lord. Don’t you have somewhere else to be? More important people to talk to?”
The marquis scowls, as ugly and repugnant as ever, but he skulks away just the same, glaring at me over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.
I notice the prince is still watching me. I narrow my eyes at him, and he arches an eyebrow. He is causing more trouble that he’s worth. And then, as if the marquis hadn’t already put me in a foul enough mood, the prince lifts the corner of his irritatingly attractive mouth in a half smile.
That’s enough. I down the rest of my wine in a gulp, scoop up my shoes, and weave my way between tables of noisy revelers. I pass the dancers, the casks of wine, and some children playing swords with wooden sticks, arguing over who gets to act out the role of Prince Dietan next.
As I reach the edge of the square, I stop and lean against the corner of a building, a wave of dizziness rolling through me.Hold on.I didn’t drink that much.
I push myself off the wall, and black dots flit in front of my eyes. I blink hard and shake my head.Get it together, I tell myself, but the world tilts beneath my feet. That wine was too strong. I need to get home and lie down; I can deal with all this matchmaking crap tomorrow. Maybe by then, my sisters and that damn prince will have come to their senses, and he’ll choose one of them to be his bride. The marquis is absolutely delusional if he thinks the prince has shown one iota of interest in me.
Something about all this rubs wrong, like a thistle in my shoe. I press a palm to my forehead. The wine is making me confused.
I turn the corner and see the round sign hanging in front of the Raven’s Beak at the end of the road.Almost there.Head swimming, I brace a hand on the doorframe of a boarding stable. The smell wafting from inside makes my nose burn and clears my mind a bit.
Even drunk like this, I’m certain of one thing: before that prince goes anywhere with one of my girls, he’s going to come clean about why he was skulking around in a disguise and asking about a healer. I don’t tolerate lies. Even from a prince—even one as enticing as Prince Dietan.
Shit! I shake my head to clear it.Enticing?I snort. Yeah, the wine was way too strong.
Chapter Seven
Aren
I stumble down the darkened street toward the familiar silhouette of the Raven’s Beak sign. The music from the revelry fades away; the village is empty, everyone is at the party, and only moonlight illuminates my path. I trip over the cobblestones, cursing every time.
When I finally manage to reach the Raven’s Beak, I hold on to a hitching post at the base of the steps for balance. I frown at the darkened door, a reminder of everything at stake.Fine, I decide.As long as my sisters are happy, I suppose marrying a lord and a general is enough.Once they’re married, I can sell this place and get out of here.
I sway and almost fall before I can even take another step. What is wrong with me? I slap my cheeks, willing myself not to pass out, but my vision grows gray and tunnels in.
Something is terribly wrong. The wine at the harvest festival is never this strong. I only had one drink. So why is everything spinning?
Prickly chills crawl up my spine:I’m not drunk. I’ve been poisoned.
Blue-stained fingers flash in my mind. A hand pressed over my cup. The marquis’ smug face leering.
That lech dosed my drink.
I’ve studied herbalist remedies with Veteria like my mother before me, and it’s becoming clear that the marquis slipped me a dose of devil’s breath in my drink, a sweet-smelling, bell-shaped blue flower that can relax a person and aid in sleep—but which in sufficient quantity renders a person unconscious. But why on earth…oh no…
Bile rises up, and I lean over, willing myself to purge the devil’s breath still in my stomach. I need to get it out. I’m alone, at night. No one will help if…
The nausea passes, and I blink furiously. I can’t faint now. I must get up those steps to safety. I’m not the type to panic, but my breath is coming in shallow gasps and my heart is hammering. Heavy footsteps approach behind me. A shadow creeps closer in the moonlight.
Fuck! My heart slams against my ribs, my pulse a desperate pounding in my ears. My legs feel liquid, but I force myself to move, stumbling forward as dizziness warps the edges of my vision. The air presses down in as if the night itself is smothering me.
The heavy footsteps quicken. Closer. Too close.
I glance up the three steps to the front door of the tavern. I’ll never make it. I release the post and stagger toward the dark alley at the side of the building. Not a great plan, but I can’t just stand here as the poison overtakes me. Thankfully, I still have enough sense to scoop up my shoe and throw it hard at whoever’s following me.
There’s a yelp, then a curse.
It’s the marquis. Of course it is. He easily ducks out of the way. I’m seeing double, I can barely stand, but I hold up my fists. “Get away from me, asshole!”
The marquis seems to grow larger and smaller. My vision is warping. I shake my head, fighting against the darkness. This is stronger than black market devil’s breath; he must have gotten it from some expensive herbalist with more power and knowledge than anyone in Evandale.
“You should have known your place,” he sneers. “Get her!”
From the shadows emerges one of his henchmen. I recognize him from the Beak. He grabs me by the waist. I flail, shrieking, and manage to punch him in the ear. Howling in pain, he slams me against the tavern wall. He may be slow, but he’s still stronger than I am.
