“We’ve been ready for this all day. All our lives, if we’re being honest. You always knew this would be a possibility.”
“I’m not ready to get married.”
Maddie shrugs. “Perhaps a marriage won’t be required of you. I’ll gladly fulfill my duty for the both of us.” There’s more mocking than warmth in her tone.
I find myself frozen as Marie’s eyes lock on mine, silently pleading. I don’t know what she expects me to do. I’ve never been close to the younger girl, not even when our older sisters were friends. She’s three years younger…
A shiver crawls up my spine. That’s when I remember Marie Coleman is only fifteen years old. My stomach churns. No wonder the girl is terrified.
She may be old enough for the Reaping, but the terms of the treaty were crafted a thousand years ago. Since then, girls rarely get married that young in Eisleigh. Despite my personal pains, an ache of sympathy tugs at my heart.
But there’s nothing I can do. In this—in this entire situation—I’m powerless.
I tear my gaze away from the girl and rush out the door.
Outside, Mr. Duveau enters a sleek black coach pulled by two enormous brown Clydesdales. My stomach sinks as Mr. Meeks guides me toward the door held open by the councilman’s driver. “Mr. Duveau can take us to my house on his way back to his hotel. I figure you’d prefer that over riding with Sheriff Bronson.”
My eyes flash toward the prison wagon parked behind Mr. Duveau. The enclosed end of the wagon is designed for transporting prisoners, not casual passengers. Yet, my stomach lurches when I consider sitting in a carriage with the brusque councilman.
“Evelyn!” Lorelei’s voice has me whirling to face her as she jogs toward me. I almost forgot I left her waiting in the carriage. Her eyes are wide as she approaches me, sparing a hesitant glance at my human companion. Mr. Meeks takes a step away, giving us some privacy, and she lowers her voice to a whisper. “What happened?”
I don’t have the energy to explain. I’ve hardly processed it myself. “It...it went the way we feared it would. There’s no swaying the council. Aspen will take the new Chosen and I...I will await my mother’s trial.”
“When will that be?”
“Two weeks from now. After that...” Exile at worst. But what happens at best? If we can prove the council is wrong about my heritage, where do we go from there? Will we be able to return to our old lives, with Mother running her apothecary, and me acting as apprentice to Mr. Meeks, and Amelie...
My blood goes cold. For the first time, I consider a chilling possibility. What if Amelie doesn’t come? What if Cobalt receives the summons for her to attend the trial but keeps the information to himself? What if he tells her about it but won’t let her leave? What if...what if Amelie refuses to come?
My knees go weak, lungs constricting.
“Where are you going?” Lorelei asks.
I focus on her words to reel in my frazzled thoughts. “I’ll be staying with my mentor, Mr. Meeks, until the trial. He’s taking me to his home.”
She visibly shudders, swallowing hard before saying, “I’ll stay with you.”
My shoulders slump. “No, Lorelei. They nearly imprisoned me on the grounds that I might be part-fae. There’s no way you’ll be allowed to remain here. Besides, why would you want to?”
“I’m not going to let you face this alone.”
I’m not alone,I want to say.I have Mr. Meeks.But I know it isn’t the same. She and Foxglove are my final tethers to the world I left behind. Proof that everything I experienced in Faerwyvae was real. Her presence is both a comfort and a painful reminder, and there’s a selfish part of me that wants her to stay. But I know it isn’t possible.
I open my mouth to say as much when Mr. Meeks draws near with slow, hesitant steps. “If your friend would like to keep you company, I will allow her to stay at my residence as well,” he says. “Mr. Duveau will give his permission. He’s a reasonable man. So long as she returns after the trial, he could have no argument against it. She can serve as an honorary ambassador until your name is either cleared or condemned.”
I’m surprised at his willingness to let a fae into his house, in addition to a supposed criminal. Mr. Meeks never hated the fae as much as I did, but I never got the impression he liked them either.
“I’m staying,” Lorelei says. The set of her jaw tells me there’s no arguing with her.
I nod, and we follow Mr. Meeks to the black coach. Before I climb inside, my eyes snag on the other carriage, the one of gold and pearl and lustrous wood. Foxglove stands outside it and offers me a sad smile, one that makes my heart plummet. That is, until Maddie Coleman obscures my view of my friend as she saunters to the carriage door. She meets my gaze and gives me an exaggerated smile. “Looks like I get to be queen after all.”
Fury roars through me, and I let it burn away my hurt, my anxieties. I shape it into a smirk, eyes burning into the girl. “Just beware of the king’s antlers,” I say sweetly. “He has no patience for easy prey.”
8
Inside the carriage, I sit next to Lorelei while the two men sit across from us. Mr. Duveau seems unperturbed by the presence of my fae companion, his attention taken by the dark scenery outside the window. I, on the other hand, can’t suppress the creeping feeling of being so near Councilman Duveau. I never met the man before tonight and only vaguely recall his name from conversation. From what I know, he’s a member of Eisleigh’s council, alongside Mayor Coleman and all the other mayors that oversee Eisleigh’s villages. I don’t think Mr. Duveau is a mayor, though, so perhaps he’s one of the council’s heads. Whatever the case, I find even his silence and inattention oddly domineering.
The only person who seems more uncomfortable than me is Lorelei. She watches the two men, posture stiff at my side. Considering what happened with the last human male she encountered, her suspicion is understandable. I just can’t fathom why she chose to stay.
