"There is something. Bloodshade. A sleeping draught. Very potent." She paused, still not turning. "But it doesn’t matter, even if you could get him to drink it, it won’t work from a cup."
"But there's another way." It wasn't a question. Briar could see it in the rigid line of Síocháin's shoulders.
"It works only when consumed through blood." The words came out reluctantly, like pulling splinters. "If someone were to take it, and then be... fed upon..."
The implication hung between them like a blade. Briar sank onto the bed, her damp skin made her shiver despite the room's warmth, goosebumps rising along her arms.
"I'd have to let him..." Her voice sounded distant to her own ears, hollow. "I'd have to make him want to feed. Quickly."
"More than that." Síocháin finally turned, her ageless face troubled. "The bloodshade loses potency quickly once taken. You'd have minutes to get it into his system. You'd have to make him bite you before it becomes too diluted to work."
"I have to seduce him,” Briar whispered. "Let him touch me after what he—"
She couldn't finish. Her hand went to her throat, fingers finding the bruises hidden beneath her wet hair.
They stood in silence, the weight of what that meant settling over them. The fire crackled, sending shadows dancing across the walls.
"I don't think I can fake wanting him convincingly enough," Briar said finally. "Not with that kind of pressure. He'll figure it out, he’ll know something's wrong."
Síocháin moved to sit beside her, careful not to touch. "There are wines. Old vintages from before the courts split. They... affect the body. Make it respond to touch, to proximity. Heighten sensation."
Briar looked at her sharply. "You're suggesting I drug myself?"
"You could take a small amount. Just enough to make your body's responses genuine, even if your mind resists." Síocháin's voice was steady but her hands trembled slightly. "The wine would make your seduction believable, give you the time you need to get him to feed before the bloodshade loses its effect. I could make sure it is served at dinner."
The plan was horrifying in its simplicity. Drug herself to endure him. Let him feed. Watch him fall.
"How quickly does bloodshade work?"
"Within minutes. Fast enough that he'd be unconscious before he realized anything was wrong." Síocháin stood, pulling a simple brown dress from the wardrobe, soft wool that wouldn't irritate bruised skin. "But you'd have to time it perfectly."
Briar took a deep breath. "Can you get it?"
Síocháin was quiet for a moment, then, finally nodded as she helped Briar into the dress. "I'll bring it tomorrow, when I prepare you for dinner."
She began working the laces, careful around the bruises on Briar's back.
"About Karse," Briar said quietly. "I need him to know the plan. To wait in the rose gardens at midnight tomorrow. Tell him... tell him the hunt ends then."
Síocháin's fingers paused on the laces. "I told you, I don't go to the east wing."
"Please. There has to be a way."
Síocháin was quiet for a moment. "I prepare the meal trays for that wing, even if I don't deliver them. I could hide a message in his food. The servants who carry the trays wouldn't know to look."
"Would he find it?"
"Draks are paranoid creatures when it comes to fae. He'll examine everything before eating." She resumed lacing. "You understand what you're risking? If Lord Malus suspects anything—"
"He'll do worse than kill me." Briar met her eyes in the mirror. "I know."
Síocháin finished with the dress and moved to leave, pausing at the door. "My lady... the wine. It will make things easier, but you'll still be aware. Still remember."
Briar thought of Eliam in the dungeons below, of Thaine probably being tortured for sport, of endless nights as Malus's experiment.
"I'll remember anyway. At least this time, it serves a purpose."
The door closed softly, leaving Briar alone with the weight of what she'd have to do. The warmth in her chest pulsed once, weak but present, pulling toward the dungeons.Tomorrow, she told it silently.Tomorrow we get him back.
