“I truly can.” Being fae still wasn’t stopping me from spilling lies. “You must have had strong support by your side to raise such a remarkable heir, especially after the tragic?—”
“That’s enough flattery,” she cut in, her tone flat. “I assume you’re referring to his father. Yes, he was a strong man.” She always spoke of the king with detachment, the same way I’d speak of an uncle I’d never met.
“And the high advisor?”
Her fingers froze mid-reach for a horig cake before she took one and delicately placed it on her etched plate. “What of him?”
“I’ve heard he was instrumental in Evergorne’s politics back then.”
“For a time. He fled the court on the day my husband died.”
My heart cratered for Merrick's father. He hadn't fled; he died along with the king.
Just like Lorant would die with Merrick.
When she finally spoke again, her voice came out frayed at theedges. “He abandoned me—us—when we needed him most.” She stared down at her cake.
“His loss must've been tremendous, especially right after the king’s death.”
“A man of such importance leaves a void when he vanishes. And vanish, he did.” Her words hung in the air. Her chin tilted higher, and her knuckles whitened as she gripped the edge of the table.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly, truly meaning it. “That must’ve been difficult for you. I'm sure you were relying on him to step in and give guidance to you, a young widow with a child. Truly tragic.”
“It was nothing.” She flounced back in her chair, linking her arms across her chest. “People come. People leave. Isn’t that the usual in life?”
“Not in this court.”
Erisandra's gaze darted to the right and then to the left.
“Are you looking for something?” I asked, though her answer didn't matter.
Her eyes snapped to mine, narrowed. “What makes you ask that?”
“Nothing, I suppose.” I picked up my tea and took a careful sip. “I wondered if something had caught your attention.”
“What could possibly catch my attention in this quaint room, Reyla? I don’t like how you’ve furnished it.”
NotQueenReyla. Always calling me by my first name as if she still commanded my title.
My fingers tightened on the handle of my cup as I debated. Did I ask her outright about the book I couldn’t find after her visit? The mirror. The way she loved to manipulate objects in an attempt to manipulate me.
She took delight in toying with me, but I suspected she’d denybeing involved if I pressed her. Accusing her now would only widen the distance between us.
Instead, I chose a different angle. “Your skill is glamour crafting, isn't it?”
Her lips twisted into a small, coy smile. “Glamour is a useful tool.”
I was about to find a way to subtly probe her about her magical abilities when the door opened, and Farris bounded inside. He galloped across the room but instead of coming to me, he slammed into Erisandra’s thigh. He backed away, a growl roaring up his throat. Spinning, he fled across the room, the ball still in his mouth. He raced back and forth before sidling over to me and dropping the ball on my lap. With a snarl, he advanced on Erisandra again, his fur bristling across his spine and his lips peeled back.
“This is atrocious.” Erisandra reeled toward the window to avoid him. “Get that…thingaway from me! Does it have to be inside? Leave it in the aerie or something. Better yet, destroy it. It’s clearly vicious. It’s going to bite someone.”
“I’ll take care of Farris,” I said as graciously as I could. After placing the ball on the table and rising, I wrapped my fingers around his collar and urged him across the sitting area and into my bedroom, closing the door after.
He growled and flung himself against the inside of the panel.
Erisandra stood, her chair rocking backward before righting itself. “I’m finished here.”
“You haven’t even tasted the horig cakes I made in your honor.”
