They always came with the same plan, and it didn’t involveniceties: They took the spare twin as their bride, coupled with them to fully awaken their own magic, and after that…
After that, it was said that they killed their wives as often as they kept them.
And if the rumors about Prince Tarron were true, his bride would be lucky to last a month.
They were all ruthless, monstrous beings, and if Sephia was going to make it out of this ordeal alive—and protect Nora in the process—then she would have to bemoreruthless. More monstrous.
Prince Tarron could not kill anyone if Sephia killed him first.
And meanwhile, Nora could stay disguised and safe in Middlemage. She would feign an acute illness to explain away the sudden weakness and shaking, they’d decided. It was not so strange for a girl who had just lost her sister—her best friend—to take seriously ill, was it?
Their parents would be easy to fool; the king and queen were so caught up in outside affairs as of late that they likely wouldn’t have noticed if Nora tap-danced naked through the cold marble halls of the Central Palace. A newly-acquired tremor would be overlooked, surely. Nana Rosa would be more difficult to deal with, but even she could be tricked for a few weeks, the sisters hoped.
One month.
This was the timeline Sephia had decided on for this mission.
Longer than that, and suspicions might begin to arise. Or the witch’s spell might begin to weaken, or it might become irreversible; one could never tell with witch magic. And then, of course, there was Sephia’sownmagic to worry about…
But she could contain her magic for one month. She could last inallways for one month. And that would be long enough to get the sham of a marriage over with, for her to get her bearings within the Sun Court, and for her to decide on a more detailed plan and carry it out. She could do this.
Shewoulddo this.
The horses trotted briskly through the woods. The sisters didn’t speak again until the sounds of a distant procession floated through the leaves, causing a visible shiver of apprehension to roll through Nora and her mount.
Sephia felt that same apprehension, but she refused to let it distract her from their plan. She cleared her throat and said: “There’s a second vial of potion in that bag I gave you. Every seven days, take one-eighth of it. Add a drop of my blood to it first. You secured that vial somewhere safe, didn’t you?”
Nora nodded, numbly.
“The witch said old blood would do well enough if you were only restrengthening an existing spell. You just can’t let the spell wear off completely. Understand?”
Another nod.
Sephia pressed a hand to her heart, close to where she had tucked her own vials of potion and blood. She would have to find a way to slip them discreetly into her luggage before she left the kingdom. The dress she wore might have been pleasing to a fae prince, but it was not especially practical; it had infuriatingly few places in which to stash knives or vials of blood.
She gritted her teeth and nudged her horse into a faster trot, weaving recklessly through the trees, as if trying to shake off that apprehension that kept creeping after her.
Nora caught up with her easily—she had always been the better rider—and she said, “You know what they say about the prince, about his magic and his temper and his—”
“I know what they say.”
“Are you sure you can…well,you know.”
“Kill him?”
Nora winced.
Sephia smiled gently. “A bit late to be doubting me and our plan now, isn’t it?”
“I…”
Sephia set her eyes back on the path before her, unwilling to entertain that doubt.
In one month, one way or another, Prince Tarron would be dead.
She would make it look like an accident.
It was custom in Middlemage for a widowed bride to not remarry, and Sephia intended to use this to her advantage. Once Prince Tarron was dead, she would plead with the Sun Court until they allowed her to go home andmournwith her family by herself. And surely they would agree; what use would they have for a weeping, devastated human amongst their bright and beautiful halls? She intended to appear annoyingly inconsolable—and she was a good actress.
