Foxglove gives me a knowing grin. “See, I told you things would be better between you soon enough.”
I open my mouth to argue but can’t find the words to express the truth of what just occurred. Because honestly, I have no idea what any of it meant.
* * *
A round,white, opalescent carriage awaits us outside the palace. At the front are two skeletal equine creatures, thin and white with lipless mouths and red eyes. Instead of a mane, each creature has a set of sharp ridges that run from their heads to the middles of their backs.
Nyxia stands before one of the creatures, hands framed on each side of its face as it nuzzles her. The queen’s expression is delighted, as if she’s playing not with a terrifying beast but a puppy. Lorelei leans against the side of the carriage, arms crossed, but straightens when she sees us.
When we meet, she pulls me into a hug. I’m surprised by the gesture—I never knew Lorelei was the hugging type—but I wrap my arms around her petite frame without hesitation. “Stay safe,” she whispers.
We pull away, and her arms wrap around Foxglove next. Seeing their worried expressions as they embrace reminds me just how dangerous this journey is. Not only are we traveling to the human lands, we’re going to Grenneith, the capital city of Eisleigh. The most densely populated human location on the isle. There won’t be familiar faces or childhood friends—neither of which I have reason to trust anyway.
My beloved mentor betrayed me.
What could strangers do?
When Foxglove and Lorelei separate, she eyes us each in turn. “Good luck with everything. Iwillsee you again.” She says the last part for me alone, then leaves toward the palace.
We turn to Nyxia, who is still showering affection on her creatures. Her gaze meets mine as we approach. She gives a final pat to the horse and kisses its bony nose. “Sylvia and Mernog are well-fed and ready for the journey. They’ll make it to the Spire without needing to rest and they won’t need to eat again until they return.”
I’m about to ask what they eat, but I don’t think I want to know the answer.
She continues. “If you need to stop for any reason, Franco will communicate with them. They listen to him almost as well as they listen to me.”
Foxglove and I say the same thing in unison. “Prince Franco’s coming?”
“But he’s wounded.” As soon as I say it, I know my argument is feeble. Four days is plenty of time for a fae to heal from such a wound.
“He’s fine,” Nyxia says. “He’s fully healed as if nothing even happened. Besides, if you want to get to the Spire quickly, you’ll have to take the moon mares. We don’t employ any other carriage-drawing creatures in Lunar but them.”
“And that has to do with the prince...how?”
Nyxia glares, making me immediately regret my tone. However, the thought of Aspen and Franco together in one carriage...it gives me no small amount of trepidation.
Foxglove elbows me. “What she means is, for what reason do you give us the great honor of his presence? Surely such a task is beneath the sweet prince.”
She gives a casual shrug. “Like I said, the moon mares listen to him.”
I squint at her, wondering if there’s more to this plot than she’s letting on. Is she still hoping she can get me to take Franco as my mate?
Nyxia ignores my scrutiny. “Go on. My brother’s already inside the carriage.”
“What about Aspen? Has he come yet?” I ask, scanning the grounds.
“Why am I not surprised he’s going too?” she says with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll have someone fetch him.”
Foxglove and I move toward the carriage, and I step inside first. Franco greets me with a warm smile. “Evelyn, I’m so pleased I get to be your chaperone once again. We had such a nice time before, did we not?” His grin is suggestive, making my pulse race. I look from the empty seat next to him to the unoccupied bench on the other side of the carriage.
“I’m grateful for your generous offer to accompany us,” I say and take the bench across from him.
Foxglove’s cheeks flush pink as he enters with an audible sigh. His expression is dreamy as he takes the seat next to me.
“Are you sure you’re recovered enough for the journey?” I ask, giving the prince a pointed look.
Without warning, he lifts the hem of his shirt, exposing far more flesh than necessary. “Not a scratch. You have a real healing gift.”
I blush and look away from his lean stomach, while Foxglove emits an awkward giggle.
