King Rodrick the Ruthless. The nightmare in the flesh.
He looks exactly as he did in the vision I was shown in the archway: like an older version of his second son. But there’s nothing of what I love about Finn in his father’s face; the smile lines, his tan skin, the sweet slope of his nose are all absent. Rodrick has the same sharp features, but with none of the sunshine.
As if I’ve drawn him to me with my thoughts, Finn stands, catching sight of me. And Gods-damn him, he isbeaming.My emotions are distorted by the confusion of all I saw.
What was real? What were lies?
As always, my magic makes itself known, with swelling pressure and pain. The monster paces its cage, growing ravenous; it can smell blood in the water.
As my prince steps away from the high table and approaches, I force deep breaths and command the monster to be tame, for the moment.
I could be wrong. I must be wrong.
“You look incredible,” Finn says.
“I need to talk to you,” I murmur, drawing my lips toward his ear. “Privately.”
Finn reaches for my hand. “Me too! I have so much to fill you in on. But first, there’s someone you need to meet.”
He starts leading me toward the high table, and I balk.
“Wait, Finn. I—”
But he just beams back at me, bending to kiss my hair. “Don’t be nervous. Everything is working out perfectly for us. You’ll see.” The spot where his lips touched me burns.
We’re hurrying toward the high table before I can register what is happening.
Stay calm, Lyria.Magic has turned my blood molten as my worst fears swirl through me. But much of it subsides as I gaze up at Finn. He looks the same way he did on our last night together when he held out Rashielle’s ring to me: adoring, full of hope, ready to take on the world together.
King Rodrick stands as we approach. “Here she is!” he says, spreading his arms and moving toward me. “The lady of the hour!” I stiffen, prepared for an attack. But King Rodrick enfolds me in a hug. When the king’s head is bent near mine, he whispers, “Well done, Lyria.”
He pulls away, and I look to Finn for answers. The prince just beams.
Queen Davina taps a slender knife against her goblet. Theding-ding-dingdraws the room to rapt attention, and the orchestra stops. “Distinguished guests, if we can please have your attention—”
“What’s going on?” I ask Finn, apprehension rising.
He leans in to whisper, “I think you might have ended the war.” Finn squeezes my hand again, but his smile wanes as his fingers probe mine. “Lyria, where’s your ring?”
King Rodrick addresses the court. “As you’re all aware, my beautiful wife and I have spent many years scouring the Midlands for a suitable bride for our second son, Finneas. It brings meindescribablepleasure to finally announce that we have found that match.”
As the king gestures to me, applause roars through the crowd. Usually, this much attention would make me ill, but I’m overcome with relief that this whole mess is just to announceour engagement, which I never even agreed to. Embarrassing, yes, but at least nobody’s losing a head.
King Rodrick continues. “We intended to forge an alliance that would strengthen the realm, a match that would serve the broader goals of our good kingdom as we look toward a united future. I hoped that my son would find someone who could help us build a better world, aholierone, where all men may live in peace and not fear the ravaging influence of magic. And who better to serve the interests of Verdinae than one of our own?”
The king smirks at me, and there’s something of Damien behind his eyes. Something dangerous. My blood thickens and heats; the monster snarls.
“As many of you know, Lyria joined the ranks of our hospital staff in the spring. As the royal apothecary, she has made herself utterly indispensable in the fight against our enemies at home and abroad. She has gone above and beyond the call of duty in protecting these lands. Miss Dareborn, if you please…”
I follow the king’s gaze, and I’m surprised to see Daisy entering the room. She’s wearing a lovely pink ball gown and her hair is swept into a glamorous updo. In her arms, she’s carrying a tray covered with a bright blue velvet cloth.
“Today marks a historic occasion for Verdinae,” the king proclaims. “A day ofprogress. Because after months of tireless labor, Lyria has successfully created a cure for the vilest of all plagues on our good kingdom: magic itself.”
On cue, Daisy sweeps off the velvet draping, revealing dozens of gleaming bottles of pale golden liquid. The omnidraught.
The recipe I worked on for months.
The one Itaught her to make. She must be holding three or four batches of it.
