Sabine
Suri and Ferra continue tooohandahhover my ring with loud, girlish giggles as they lead me up the curving main staircase to the second floor. We pass a pair of royal guards, and the second they’re out of earshot, the giggles die.
They pull me into a second-floor workroom overflowing with fabric, thread, and measuring tape. Ferra’s full-length gilded mirror from Sorsha Hall stands in a corner, though I can only imagine how hard it was to convince Rian to transport it here.
Ferra slams the door shut and turns the key.
“We’ll get to the whole bath, food, and rest part. But first, so much has happened we have to tell you about,” she says, her lavender eyes a little wild. With a dramatic flourish, she stretches her arms out as though defending the door from an onslaught. “Finally, we can talk about it without those idiot men listening in.”
I catch my reflection in the mirror and flinch—I’ve been practically dipped head to toe in mud. I start to untie the farmers’ dirty cloak from over my hair. “Aren’t you and Folke still together? He called you his jewel.”
“Ugh, yes.” She sees me struggling with the knot and comes over to help. “We’re together. We’re hopelessly in love. Don’t you dare tell a soul—I’m sure I’ll loathe him again tomorrow.”
I look down to hide my smile. “I see not everything has changed.”
Ferra seems, well…even more Ferra than usual.
Life in the capital city looks good on her. She was always Duren’s most fashionable resident, but now that she has access to the best the kingdom has to offer, she shines like a silver piece. Her hair is swept back into an elaborate Immortal Crown, with glittering strands of silver filaments woven through. Her gown has ruffles upon ruffles ranging from midnight blue to a soft cerulean, mimicking the layers of the ocean. She smells like incense only a king could afford.
Looking at her, it’s hard to believe there’s a war outside.
“Ferra means no ill will against Lord Kendan or Folke,” Suri pops in to explain, as she helps me untie the apron from around my back. She pulls the dirty apron over my head, sliding unsure looks to the door, and the hair lifts on my arms.
My heartbeat picks up. “Is it…Basten, then? You’re worried about?”
“No!” Suri looks horrified. “No, we wouldn’t go to these lengths to put Basten on the throne if we didn’t completely believe in him. We’re all leading the opposition together. Why, you should see how late Kendan toils into the night in the castle library, poring over old military strategy books. And Folke…well, his methods might be coarse, but they’re effective. It’s just that sometimes men have a way of overreacting. You know? Starting wars over the smallest thing. Some decisions are best left to a woman’s calmer judgement.”
Ferra pauses. “Although…can Basten hear us? There’s something about his godkiss that’s always made me uneasy. Notabout his intentions, just about how deep his power goes. As if he’s hiding something more.”
I pick dried mud flecks off my wool dress, keeping my eyes down. Ferra might as well be reading my biography from a history book.
Basten might not be hiding anything, but me? Check.
I pretend to smooth back my tangled hair while double-checking that my ear is curved.
I say breezily, “I’m sure Folke has poured so much whisky down Basten’s throat by now that his senses are dull as a brick.”
I mean it as a joke, but Ferra nods her agreement with a little too much certainty.
My gaze falls on a stack of old books on the mantelpiece, and I turn to Suri. “This isn’t about the missing book, is it? The second volume ofThe Last Return of the Fae? Did you find it?”
My voice lifts with a touch of panic, but I cross my fingers that they interpret the tone as excitement.
Once, I was so desperate to find the second volume that I nearly tore apart Rian’s library. I had reason to believe it contained the secret to putting the fae gods to sleep—possibly forever. And I still want to find it. Of course I do. Nothing would please me more than stopping Artain and Iyre from using the seven kingdoms as their game board, toying with human lives like game pieces.
It’s just that now, that missing volume could be a weapon againstme, too.
Suri’s face falls. “No. I’ve looked for it everywhere. Rian assigned me the position of Castlekeep, so I have keys to nearly every door in Hekkelveld Castle. But it isn’t in the library. Trust me, I’ve checked every shelf. Nor is it in any of the offices I have access to. I even scoured the attic.” She squeezes my shoulders from behind and reassures me, “Don’t worry, Sabby. We’ll find it.”
Suri and Ferra peel me out of the farmer’s dress, then wrap me in a borrowed silk robe. Ferra sniffs my hair and mutters something about maybe tackling the “bath” part sooner rather than later, and Suri briefly disappears and returns with a bucket of bath water and a scrub brush. She gets a fire going in the room’s small fireplace, then hangs the iron kettle so the water will warm.
“You say a lot has happened,” I start, slowly working my hair loose from its simple braid.
It’s still hard to meet their eyes. To say a lot has happened on my end, too, would be an understatement. Just being here in my human glamour feels like a lie. What am I supposed to do, break out in my pointed ears? Make that water boil with a blast of fey?
Instead, I clear my throat and try to lighten the mood. “Would that involve Rian’s brother that I met downstairs? Basten mentioned some flirtation, at least on Kendan’s side.” I give Suri a sly smile. “He half expected you’d be engaged by now.”
Suri shoots to her feet, the boiling water forgotten. “Lord Kendan?” Her voice rises about three octaves.
