“But I have no experience with such things. It’ll be better for a mercenary to do it, someone who is trained and bound to succeed—”
“Are you afraid?” The duchess’s voice was dangerously sharp.
“N-No, Mother, I want everything to work. That is all,” Narcissa said.
“I will not tolerate fear, Narcissa,” Duchess Wilhelmina said. “It is too late to go back. Ever since you helped me plant that poison at the Debutante Ball, you have lost your tolerance for fear. Do you understand?”
My breath hitched. No doubt it was Narcissa who caused the infestation of pigeons as a distraction for Duchess Wilhelmina.
“Yes, Mother.”
A door opened. The door to the duchess’s chambers. My blood turned to ice as footsteps grew louder. Figures moved at the gap between the armoire doors. I caught a glimpse of Narcissa’s back and the duchess’s skirts.
“Tomorrow I’ll see the end to Cordelia,” Duchess Wilhelmina said. “Those silly physicians are doing a poor job at keeping her alive. I ought to do them a favor and take her off their hands. One last dose and she’ll be through.”
“Is there enough?”
I squinted through the gap. The duchess’s face was now visible.
“More than enough,” she said, pressing a hand to her necklace. I squinted. Scarlet smoke billowed from the seams of the locket. So that’s where she kept it! My heart pounded against my chest. How would I possibly get my hands on the duchess’s locket?
Narcissa took a breath. “Mother, what if we get caught?”
The duchess stilled. The silence felt dangerous. “We will not,” she said. “Every meddlesome person has been taken care of. That Amarante girl is nothing but a wicked, raving mad witch in everyone’s eyes. And Greenwood is an immoral adulterer who would do and say anything to save his lover. In the end, our hands are clean. And the blame is put on those filthy witches who get what they deserve.”
I clenched my jaw. The duchess had a surprise coming for her.
“Maybe we shouldn’t kill the queen,” Narcissa said. “Maybe we should let her die. She’s had enough of the poison.”
“No,” Duchess Wilhelmina said sharply. “I will not have her live as long as I have the power to kill her. Cordelia has been a thorn at my side for thirty long years. Once you are queen, Narcissa, I will take her place. She must die now.”
“But Mother, what if Bennett does not choose me?” Narcissa said. Her voice sounded oddly desperate. “What if he chooses someone else? He doesn’t love me. He hardly knows me.”
“Foolish girl! Of course he doesn’t. Love has nothing to do with choosing a bride,” the duchess said. “And he will have to choose. You are the most obvious choice.”
“V-Very well.”
“Compose yourself, Narcissa. You have followed me this far,” the duchess said, looking imperiously down at her daughter. “It will not be in your favor to change your mind, do you understand?” It was a threat. Loud and clear.
Narcissa bowed her head. “I understand.”
“I thought I raised you well,” she said. “But it appears you have inherited your father’s weakness.”
Narcissa visibly stiffened, but the duchess continued to speak. “Once I thought witches were stronger because of their magic, but it becomes increasingly clear it has the opposite effect.” She chuckled. “It’s better this way. The strong can control the weak and put their powers to much better use, isn’t that right, Narcissa?”
“Quite right, Mother,” Narcissa mumbled.
“You are using your magic to seize power, as you ought to. You should be proud.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Narcissa, and stand straight. You know I hate your slouching.”
Ash shifted, and the armoire creaked. The duchess’s skirts drew nearer.
And the doors flung open.
“You!”
