“Please,” I beg the footman all the way to the palace. “I’ll do anything.” He doesn’t even look at me.
It takes two of them to haul me out of the carriage and into the palace. I fight every step of the way. The footmen stay silent and stoic as I dig my nails into the flesh of their forearms. I rake a hand across the cheek of the one to my left, leaving a long, bloody scratch. I kick out the back of his knees next, and he falls to the dirt. If she’s going to kill me, I’m not going down without a fight.
But in an endless flood, more come. It takes four of them in the end, one on each arm and leg to carry me up the grand staircase as I flail.
“Bram!” I scream. “Emmett!”
But my calls echo off the glass ceiling. No one is coming for me.
The footmen throw me into the throne room and slam the doors behind me. I land hard on my knees, looking up through tangled hair and frustrated tears.
Golden morning light streams through the high windows, throwing rainbows from the diamonds in the queen’s tiara.
Queen Mor’s skirts are fanned around her, and she sits on the edge of her throne, leaning forward, like she’s been waiting impatiently for me.
She’s smiling. Her sharp canines are fully on display. She’s got a dimple, like her son. This is the first time she’s smiled wide enough for me to see it.
“Lady Ivy Benton!” she exclaims cheerfully. “Congratulations!”
Chapter Thirty-One
I push myself up off the ground, my knees bloody with carpet burn. “Excuse me?”
She steps down from her throne and crosses the carpeted floor to wrap me in an awkward hug. It’s like she’s never hugged anyone before. It’s too tight. Too sharp. She smells of lilies that wilted days ago.
She pulls back, both hands on my shoulders, and sighs. “Don’t tell Bram, but I always wanted a daughter.”
“Forgive me, Your Majesty, I’m confused.”
“Bram is going to be thrilled. You always were his favorite.”
My heartbeat kicks up, and the floor tips under me. “But I lost.”
She shakes her head. “It was my final little taste of fun. You passed with flying colors. You should have seen the others. Olive begged. Emmy just stood there. Faith tried to cry but could barely squeeze out a tear. Marion laughed, which I found most unsettling. What an odd girl she turned out to be.” She pauses. “Butyou.You were the picture of dignity. Exactly what a princess should be.”
I stand, stock-still, like I’m floating somewhere out of my body. She’s speaking so quickly I can barely keep up.
“Bram will propose tonight at the Kendalls’ ball. You two will be the talk of the town. We’ll have the wedding here, of course, on the solstice. You have a sister, right? We can arrange for her to be a lady-in-waiting if you wish, but I will choose the rest.”
“I’m—I won?” I still can’t wrap my head around what it is she’s saying.
“Keep up, please.”
I think of the very first night of the season, when Emmett pulled me into that room at the ball and saidIf you let me help you, Ivy Benton, you could be queen.
“There’s only one matter left to settle,” she says. “The matter of your bargain.”
“I didn’t make a bargain, ma’am.”
She tuts her tongue. “That’s exactly the problem. I’ve lived a long time, and I try to learn from my mistakes. I married my most recent husband without him having made a bargain. He used that bargain for the benefit of another woman’s child and has resented me every day for the rest of our marriage for it. I can’t have that happening to Bram. You must make a bargain, and then we can proceed.” She looks over me carefully and cocks her head. “I could tame your hair? Make you a croquet prodigy? We can just do something small, get it off the table.”
“Oh—” I sputter.
A storm cloud passes over her face, and she levels me at once with a glare so venomous it’s as if the light in the room dims.
“Unless you want something else?” Her tone is sickly sweet, like rotted fruit.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
