“Because of everything I have overheard this sundown. They are wicked with no moral code and no care for Burghers like us.”
“And Charming is different, how?”
“Good point,” she says, dragging me around the outside of the room. “In a few tempos, the kings will arrive. I will be presented as the new potential Cinderella, and then they leave. When we are called forward, offer to hold Charming’s goblet of berry juice and drop the root into his drink.”
“Berry juice? The man drinks a girl’s drink—why am I not surprised?”
She chuckles, knowing we could drink these princesses under the table. The band gets louder and the earlier missing trumpets power through the room, causing the crowd to hush. The doors open and a trio of men stroll inside the room with crowns on their heads, each a lord over their own castle and kingdom. The Hallows Palace is at the center, but it is governed by a group of leaders that represent the major fairy tales through diplomacy and negotiations. According to The Duke of Strongfair, they are pompous males with no respect for the monarchies of The Hallows. This coming from a hairless guy who erected a statue of himself, so it holds no weight.
In the center of the group is a middle-aged man with floppy blonde hair and startling blue eyes. Undoubtedly, he is the reigning Charming that Gwyneth will be presented to. To the right of him is a tall raven-haired male with dark eyes. He must be the current King Philip. Finally, the golden idol of a man that towers over the other kings with piercing green eyes.
“Who’s the giant?” I whisper to Gwyneth.
“King Arthur,” she mutters lowly as we push toward Charming.
“Like the knights of the round table?”
“Yes. He’s the longest reigning king. Rumor has it that his line is struggling to find a new Guinevere. The knights can’t defeat the dragon and save a damsel—and the more damsels that are sacrificed, the fewer want to offer themselves up.” How did she learn all of this? Probably by paying attention while I was stuffing entire cakes down my throat and being the meat in a Stirling triple sandwich. Ooo, triple sandwich.Focus, Daphne.Gwyneth is smart, but she’s depending on you.It’s a good thing because I need her brain to ensure I make it through this Hallows experience alive. A few of the Hallowed give us dirty looks for whispering in the presence of their scary kings. They would sacrifice me before the next diurnal if talking was a punishable crime.
King Charming steps forward and glares at us. No, wait, he’s glaring at Charming. All is good. “Where is the maiden?” he snaps.
Gwyneth gives me a little nudge. Oh right, now is the time. I reach out my hand toward Charming and he drops his goblet into it before dragging Gwyneth forward, like there’s always someone to catch his shit.
Trusting fool. I sink back into the crowd, allowing the blessed tall Hallowed to shield me as my hand runs up my leg and finds the small pouch tucked inside my stocking. I pull on the ribbon, opening the bag. Wait, she didn’t say how much.
I frown and dart a quick look toward the kings. They are still babbling, but it will only last so long. What is the rule? Don’t drink it all at once? Or was it don’t swim on a full stomach or you’ll drown? So many rules and none of them are helping my current predicament. We should have been taught this in school. Biting my lip, I tip the bag and decide on half the contents. Someone jostles my arm and knocks my hand, and all the powder disappears into the goblet. Poop buckets of bunkum. Dipping my finger into the liquid, I swirl it until the powder dissolves. I raise my wet finger to my mouth, then remember what a bad idea it would be to lick even a drop of this potent mixture. Damn it. I need a different plan. My gaze darts around the room and my eyes land on the table with carafes of berry wine. I’ll dilute it. That should work, right? I push through the strong Hallowed inching my way toward the table. Almost there. Charming and Gwyneth appear in front of me and cut me off. I blink at them and Charming grabs the goblet before throwing his head back, draining the entire contents.
My eyes widen as he whoops and raises his empty goblet. “Did you do it?” Gwyneth mouths.
I swallow. Sure, I did it. Killed a Prince Charming. Now I will be sacrificed and not in any notable fashion to make the history books. No, pretty mouse Daphne Stone will wither away into the dust of unicorn horns.
ChapterSeven
Fifteen tempos. That’s all it takes for it to become startlingly clear that something is wrong with Charming. He stumbles into a growling group of beasts. They snarl at him as he laughs like it’s the funniest thing to happen this annus. Perhaps for him, it is.
“What did you do?” Gwyneth whispers as she clutches my hand and drags me across the room to a spot less crowded by shiny folks.
I grimace. “Maybe I gave him a little too much?”
“How much is too much?” she whisper yells.
I shrug. “All of it?”
She blanches. “Please tell me you didn’t.”
“I could, but we made that pact to never lie to each other, and I already feel the Idols have it out for me.”
She squeezes her eyes closed, then they snap open with heavy determination. “Okay, we can spin this.”
I knew there was a reason we were sisters. She moves her body into Charming and mutters something in his ear. He stands taller and nods at her. Oh boy, I think she just whispered her floof is the promised land. She takes the lead and begins guiding him towards the door. He stumbles. Is that what I look like daily? Because damn, it’s hard to watch. I follow them as the doors are flung open and we exit the room. The hallway is empty and quiet.
“Which way?” Gwyneth asks him.
He points to the right and leans on her. “You are very pretty,” he says. “But not as pretty as me, which I like.” Wow.
He slumps more on her shoulder. “A little help?” she whispers to me.
I hurry to his other side and loop his arm over my shoulders, helping her to maneuver him down the corridor. “Double trouble,” he says, grinning at me. “I knew you wanted a taste of Charming.”
