Taran turns to Aerona. “The queen’s probably given him my chambers. You can get them there.”
How does she know the way to his room?Could they have been a couple at some point? That could explain her coldness, but would that make her more or less likely to betray him?
“Once you’ve taken him, the queen will turn her attention to you,” he continues. “You’ll need backup.”
“I’ll do it,” Emlyn volunteers.
“No. You know the palace better than anyone other than me. I need you on the queen.”
Emlyn’s face pales. All at once, the other fae become very interested in the floor and ceiling.
My breath catches.He wants Emlyn to kill the queen?Somehow, the fact that we’re plotting the assassination of a powerful willbender didn’t seem real until now.
“Tell me that isn’t your plan,” Emlyn says, his body so stiff it almost trembles.
Taran nods. “I’ll be moving in as well. Iwantto do this myself, but if you get an opening, I need you to take it.”
For a tense moment, no one breathes as they stare at each other.
Then Emlyn walks out, the door swinging behind him. Taran’s gaze drops to the floor, and he rubs his brow with his hand.
“Will he be coming back?” Merfyn asks.
Taran sighs. “He’ll do it. He just needs a moment.”
Reid narrows his eyes at Taran, then goes after Emlyn.
“We should discuss how everyone’s getting in and where to be,” Taran says after the door slams shut.
I sidle over to the window as Taran continues speaking, carefully pulling the curtain back. Emlyn sits outside, several feet from the door, his back to me. Reid wraps his arm around him, whispering words I can’t make out. I drop the curtain as Emlyn leans into Reid—I shouldn’t be intruding on this.
As I look over at Taran, plotting with the other fae, a knot in my chest twists.Is Emlyn right? Should we be questioning Taran’s judgment?
I have no way of knowing if this is a good plan—I don’t have enough information. But the other fae… While their heads nod in agreement, their taut faces betray their uncertainty. And Emlyn clearly believes his role is tantamount to suicide.
Not to mention, we still haven’t found our betrayer.
If I were a traitor, what would I be doing now?
Silently taking everything in? Shaping the plan into something riskier? Or simply waiting until everyone leaves to stab Taran through the heart?
My gaze wanders to the weapons the fae wear. They’re all armed, some with bows, but they almost all bear those bone knives of varying lengths. Merfyn’s even has intricate carvings on it, like the sword Taran showed me.
Those look familiar…
Taking a careful step toward the fae man, I feign inspecting a scuff on my boots, kneeling to get the blade on his hip closer to eye level.
The pattern on his blade’s identical to the tattoo on my dead attacker’s neck.
“Those are some interesting carvings on your blade,” I say, interrupting the conversation. Everyone looks at me. “Are they supposed to be antlers?”
Merfyn’s brow furrows, and he looks around before answering. “Yes. My family has a long history as stewards of the crown’s deer.”
I meet Taran’s eyes. “I’ve seen this pattern before—tattooed on the man who tried to kill me.”
Merfyn’s hand flies to his blade, but Taran’s faster. He slams Merfyn against the wall, pressing a knife to his throat. My flash of triumph flickers out, swallowed by the icy darkness of dread.
“You betrayed me?” Taran growls.
