She laughed. “You truly expect me to answer that question?”
Reyna shrugged. “Willingly or not, you will answer.”
“Torture?” She laughed again, glancing at Reyna’s dagger. “You can’t get inside this cell. You don’t have the key. I’m not answering the question.”
Reyna smiled and jangled the keys.
Shock registered in the assassin’s eyes, followed quickly by suspicion. “How did you get those?”
“I ask the questions. Who do you work for? Is it Prince Thane?”
Reyna did not truly believe that Thane had ordered the assassination, but she’d seen her father work on prisoners before. There was an art to questioning when it came to fae. Humans were much easier. First, ask a series of yes or no questions where the answer is clearly a no. Lull them into a false sense of security. Allow them to get cocky. And then, when they have relaxed, lob your real question. If they refuse to answer it, then you have your truth.
“Is that what you think?” Ula asked, arching a grey-tinted brow.
“If not, Thane, then who?” Reyna asked. “Was it Lorcan?”
Ula shook her head. “I know what you’re trying to do. I’ve been questioned before, and I know how you nobles handle things. I will not answer your questions.”
Reyna jangled the keys again.
“I won’t tell you,” Ula hissed. “You can do whatever you want to me, but I will never spill the words. Because I know that no matter what I do, I’ll end up dead in the end.”
Reyna narrowed her eyes. The assassin was, unfortunately, right. Ula had been ordered to murder Reyna. She had likely promised to fulfill her quest to whoever controlled her. That meant she would never stop. And, even if she did, Tir Na Nog was not the kind of world where assassins were allowed to live. If Reyna didn’t kill her, someone else would.
“You ought not to protect your master,” Reyna said. “She or he will have no loyalty to you. You know that. If you tell me, then I’ll...well, I’ll let you out.”
Ula snorted. “You mean for me to believe that you’ll let me go free? That I’ll live if I answer you honestly? Look at my eyes and my hair, milady. I was not born yesterday.”
“I can’t promise you’ll live, but you’ll get a head start. You might just make it out of this castle alive.” Reyna strode closer, dropping her dagger to her side. “Imagine the alternative. You stay. You are questioned sharply. Eventually, whoever gave you this order will come here and kill you to prevent you from speaking. Or, the crown kills you first for treason. Either way, you have no chance if you stay inside this cell. But if you tell me now, you’ll at least have something.”
Ula blinked at her with those eerie eyes. Reyna hated to let the assassin go, but her need for truth was far stronger than her fury. If she had to do this to get answers, then so be it.
Ula sucked in a long breath, and then exhaled. She stared at Reyna with hateful eyes. “I am a coward.”
“Does that mean you agree?”
“I’ll tell you who sent me,” Ula said slowly. “But you must at least unlock the door first. Otherwise, what assurance do I have that you’ll allow me to flee?”
Reyna frowned. “My word. I cannot lie.”
“That isn’t enough for me,” Ula whispered.
The princess continued to frown. Surely Ula didn’t believe that Reyna could lie. Why would she insist on evidence of Reyna’s words? A drumbeat pounded in her mind. She could walk away from this and return to her chambers. She could leave Thane to question her lady’s maid turned assassin.
But Reyna could not trust Thane. He’d already proven that to her.
“All right,” Reyna finally said, twirling her dagger once again. “But if you make a move to leave before you give me that name, then I will personally carve your skull out of your head.”
Ula nodded and wet her lips.
With narrowed eyes, Reyna shoved the key into the lock and twisted sideways. A resounding click echoed through the dark dungeons. Ula let out a long, slow exhale, and then she smiled.
Reyna’s heart twisted. “Time for your end of the bargain, Ula. Who was it?”
“I don’t work for who you think,” she hissed.
The rush of footsteps ripped Reyna’s attention away from the cell. A figure hurtled out of the darkness. His arm was outstretched, his gloved fingers curled around the long hilt of a two-handed sword. The blade glinted as it whistled toward her head.
