Gwyneth’s brow furrows. “We cannot allow this to continue.”
“Don’t go making enemies of the Idols,” Malachi says. “They are powerful and will move to end you should you deviate from their demands.”
Gwyneth’s eyes meet mine, and I can see her resolve to fight back against the twisted tales of the realm. The Idols think themselves all powerful and untouchable. They haven’t met my sister. If they are a force to be reckoned with, then she is the shadowy underbelly that would gut them with nothing but her bare hands.Watch out, Idols, the Stone sisters are coming for you.
ChapterTwenty-Four
We have time. Not oodles of it, but enough to hatch a plan that will see Gwyneth safely away from Prince Poopfloof and his wandering hands. With a quick hug and whispered promises to reunite under the glittering opulence of the grand ballroom tomorrow night, we leave Gwyneth in the Tower of Consideration. Charming thinks he is wearing her down, when in reality, he has ensured her hatred of him has sunk deep into her bones.
We find Ebony strolling between the caskets of women, her fingers trailing over the glass in reverence. All these lives wasted on a narrative they could not fulfill.
“We were told that with time our one true love would find us,” she utters as a tear tracks down her cheek. Oh no, we have a crier. I don’t cry. I live in too much chaos to afford the tears, and if I do cry, it’s full on ugly tears, blotched cheeks, and a snotty nose. Not the pretty blush the princesses pull off. Was that a class they attended here at the palace? How to cry attractively for dummies?
“They misled you,” Nash says softly. Her head jerks toward us and her eyes widen. “It is true that your one true love’s kiss will wake you. But what they failed to mention is no one would know where you are being kept and that only one in every generation is picked to become the next Snow White. They discard the rest of you in the depths of the palace.”
“That’s a travesty,” she says, drawing closer to us. “But it is as the Idols demand, so what choice do we have?”
I resist the urge to shake her until she sees flying capons, allowing her to break free of this spell that the Idols have woven over the realm. The greatest war starts with the smallest rebellion.
Malachi strides to a door I’m sure we didn’t come through. He leans his head against the wood and listens. “There’s a guard outside here, as we suspected,” he mutters.
Ebony’s hand flutters across her chest. “Guards?”
I roll my eyes and huff. “Then I guess we are going back through the tunnel,” I say, glancing at Ebony. She looks like a screamer if a spider tries to befriend her. We should put her at the back in case she panics. We wouldn’t want to get stuck because of a dramatic princess.
“No can do,” Malachi says. “If we take the front gates into the palace, Charming will know you are back, and we want to keep that under wraps until the last possible tempo.”
“What about the door from the wine cellar?”
“It leads to the same hallway, normally two guards, sometimes more, depending upon who is in residence in the tower.”
“So what’s the plan?”
Nash folds his arms and looks between me and Ebony. He presses his lips together and sighs. “You seduce them.”
I side-eye Ebony. “She doesn’t seem like the seducing type.”
“Not her, you.”
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, channeling my inner Gwyneth. “That worked out so well the last time,” I grumble. “You remember the multiple stabbing, kingdom-wide panic, and damsel near death experience, right?”
“You got this,” Malachi says, crowding me toward the door. “Show a little more skin and bat your eyelashes.”
“Fine,” I mutter, pulling at my blouse until my boobs are practically falling out of it. There’s nothing I can do for my breeches. Malachi steps back with amusement glinting in his eyes. “You won’t be laughing when I maim or murder a guard.”
I swallow the lump of nervousness in my throat, tug on the tie that is keeping my hair tamed, and shake out my curls so they cascade over my back. I grip the handle and refuse to look at the Stirling brothers. If I do, I might lose my nerve.
Dragging the door open, I spill into the hallway and promptly fall over my feet, landing on the floor in a heap with my hair covering my face.Good going, Daphne.“Are you okay?” a gruff voice asks.
I flip onto my back and sigh. Okay, maybe I am more of a damsel than I care to admit. It is better than the “seduce the guard” plan. See, this is why the Stirling brothers need me. “I’m lost,” I admit. “And confused.” I throw my forearm over my head like I’m so overcome with these difficulties I just had to lie down on the dirty floor.
“Where did you come from?” another guard asks. My eyes land on the two males standing above me. The first one has coppery curly hair that seems to have a mind of its own. His green eyes stand out on his pale face. They aren’t the color of emeralds, or the jade mountains like my guys. More of a flat green, like trodden grass.
The second one, who is demanding details like my origin, has blond floppy hair, and a frown which lowers his caterpillar eyebrows over his pale blue eyes. He has a pouty mouth that the princesses would be jealous of. They are both dressed in black breeches and tight fitting black shirts. No armor for the guards protecting the tower of consideration, it seems. They didn’t bet on me falling into their lives, though. Everyone should suit up when I’m around.
The coppery haired guy stretches out his hand to me. I grasp it and he pulls me up. Both their gazes flick to the flesh exposed between my boobs. I twirl a lock of my hair. The blond looks unimpressed. Great, I got a grumpy guard.
“I was looking for the kitchen, the blessed Hallowed sent me for snacks,” I say and try batting my eyelashes. My vision blurs. Ugh, how do people do this and remain upright? “I got a little lost. Could you big burly handsome guys show me the way? I don’t wish to be punished for not returning with the prince’s nuts.” I thrust my chest out a little farther and spy Nash and Malachi watching from the crack in the door behind the guards. Malachi’s hand covers his mouth as he smothers his laugh at my expense.
