“Aye, ye heard right,” Ean called after him. “It’s time.”
A sobering weight settled back onto Georgie, pushing a slow exhale from her rounded mouth. “Tonight’s the night.”
“Aye.” Ean did an excited flip in mid-air. “Are ye ready, P Georgie?”
She didn’t think she’d ever seen him do that before. The ridiculous action yanked a laugh up through her slurry of anxiety to escape her still-open mouth.
Of course he was excited; his freedom was finally a tangible thing. Many others would feel just as Ean did; she had to get used to it. The mages who were dragged beneath the veil and forced to be aides had to live knowing they were separated from their loved ones, had to live with unspeakable horrors inside the palace. They were entitled to their joy.
The fae had to live with the knowledge that a once-great kindness to their people was being used as a means to control them. They were aware of the wider world. Fates, they could see it beyond the lake. But they’d never been free to leave. Not in a thousand years. Even the legionaries and viceroys were at Gasparo’s whims. Their perspectives were all valid, and theyalldeserved to be free.
She only needed to kill the king.
ThesizzleofIsahn’sparting kiss lingered on Georgetta’s lips as she glided through the halls of her home. Hildy walked, straight-backed, at her side, accompanying George intocenaas the princess’s allotted guard. Arriving late, intentionally, they aimed to ensure the king’s ire and improve the chances of him calling her to stand before him.
All George needed to do was get between him and his wine and drop the honeyed dose of death into his cup. The lethal pill was in a quick-dissolving pressed-powder form, tucked under the band of a clever ribbon bracelet that matched the embellishment in her hair. She may not have been born ready for this, but she was certainly rising to the occasion.
Three guards stood outside the privatetriclinium: Burke, who’d managed to get himself assigned duty there, and two of her father’s men. There should only have been one.
Her gut tightened as she closed the final gap to the chamber and hoped to the gods she wasn’t walking into her own death. Burke opened the left door, and Gordiani, or something like that, pulled open the right.
Georgetta stepped inside.
“No guards. Leave yours in the corridor,” the king called out almost merrily.
“You’ve got this. We’ll handle the hall.” Hildy hid her shock at the change in plans, sending a whisper for George’s ears alone. It steadied her slightly wavering resolve.
The doors clicked closed, and she was on her own. The room smelled of incense and old wine. King Gasparo lounged upon hislectuswith an aide—Helena—by his side. Aside from them, the room was empty. George was alone and ready to do the unthinkable.
No. Not alone.Isahn was in the wall with Ean. Hildy and Burke were in the corridor. And Wynnie and Dunstan would be lingering nearby. She wasn’t alone. She could do this.
Flattening her affect, she sneered, “I thought you said this was a family affair?” and eyed the poor aide with faux disdain.
“Georgetta, you’re late.” Her name festered on his tongue, all wrong.
It wasn’t his to hurl at her, not anymore.
His rage, on the other hand? That was perfect. The plan was still on. She had to fight back a smile, knowing what was coming next.
“Here. Now,” he spoke viciously while pointing at the floor in front of hislectus.
She slumped her shoulders and crossed the room timidly. It wasn’t hard to feign submission with years of practical experience on the matter.
The moment she stepped into the narrow space between thelectusand table, he laid into her, “You abysmally useless cunt, just like your mother. Can’t even arrive tocenaon time. Stand up straight while I’m addressing you!”
George snapped her shoulders back and used the opportunity to clasp her hands behind her back. She met her father’s gazehead-on as her fingers worked the pill free, blocked by a simple mirage of sight magic in case he could somehow see behind her.
“Looking plump around the hips these days, Georgetta.” With touch magic, he grabbed her waist and squeezed. “Is that what held you up then? Couldn’t find a dress that fit?” He laughed at his own bad joke.
She ignored his berating words and heartless touches. He had not one fatherly bone in his miserable body. This was the only course of action. It was the right thing to do.
“I’m sorry, Father,” George said at the precise moment she dropped the pill into the wine glass at her back.
“Don’t interrupt me!” He slapped her across the face with a hard hand of magic.
Her head snapped to the side, and her teeth cracked together. Though her cheek stung, her heart soared with joy. He only needed to drink.
“Where was I, little pet?” he asked Helena for direction in a clear attempt to torture her. She looked terrified to speak. “Where. Was. I?” he bit out, fingers clutching her jaw as he forced her to look at him. “Ah! I remember. Turn!” he shouted at George, spinning her in place before she could move.
