“Monstrous fae.”
“What do you want to know?” His words are still thick and heavy, barely above a whisper, but at least they’re coherent.
My pulse begins to race. “Yesterday you said the body you found on the shore wasn’t my sister’s. Was that true?”
He winces, but I can’t tell if it’s from pain or from the realization of what he said. “Yes,” he finally confesses.
“What happened to Amelie?”
“I don’t know. She was never found.”
“Whose body was it, then? Who was the girl I saw being pulled from the caves?” The memory seizes me. Pale skin, face obscured by hair dark with water and tangled with kelp. There was no part of me that doubted it was my sister, but the truth is, I never saw the body close enough to know for certain.
“A selkie,” Aspen whispers.
My eyes go wide. “A selkie? How did she die?”
“She must have lost her sealskin. Without it, a selkie can only live on land in seelie form until sunrise unless she dons human clothing.”
“Was she the one your guards saw running into the caves?” I ask. “Or was that my sister?”
“Impossible to say.”
My heart sinks. I thought I’d feel relief knowing there was a possibility Amelie was still alive, but now I’m just as disheartened as ever. If she really did run to the caves, then she could have been devoured by the sea or some fae monster, leaving no trace of her remains. Or she could be…anywhere. “You truly don’t know where Amelie is? Why she disappeared?”
“I don’t.”
“Promise me.”
His head moves, facing me, despite his vision obscured by the cloth. “I promise. I know nothing about her disappearance or her current whereabouts.” After a moment, he adds, “Can you promise me the same? That you had nothing to do with it? That you have no part in any plot against the fae, my throne, or my life?”
“How can you ask me that? Of course I don’t.”
“The promise of a human means nothing when they can lie, but I want to hear you say it.”
I swallow hard. “I promise. I had nothing to do with Amelie’s disappearance, nor am I part of any plot against you, your throne, or faekind.”
He sighs, face relaxing. “Is that all?”
I could leave him to rest, pour a dropper of honey pyrus between his lips now that he’s answered my most pressing questions. But why waste the opportunity? “No. There’s more I need from you. What really happened to the Holstrom girls? What treasonous act did they perform? I want you to tell me everything.”
He lets out an irritated grumble. “At least give me more honey pyrus and wine first. If you’re going to make me talk, I want to have a voice at the end of it. And sweet oblivion to slip into once it’s over.”
“Fine.” I grab the vial. “I’ll give you a few drops now, and a half-dropper after.”
He parts his lips and I drop in the extract, followed by a few hearty sips of wine and broth.
Once he settles back down, I say, “Go on.”
“Impatient human.” His voice is gravelly, but somewhat stronger than before. “Very well. It was days before the mate ceremonies were to take place. The girls hadn’t been here a week, even. They’d been cold, distant. Worse than you.”
“I doubt that.”
He continues. “Theresa came to me in the night. She’d barely said a word to me before this, but there she was, slipping into bed next to me, whispering, telling me she was eager to start living as mates now. I was perplexed but too intrigued to dismiss her. Not when she seemed to want it so badly.”
My stomach churns, and an unexpected fury moves through me. “Spare me the details.”
He smirks. “Are you judging me?”
