Imogen let out a strangled sigh, and then slumped further into her throne of twisting vines. “Impressive, I have to say. You discovered it far sooner than I.”
Surprised, Mariel stayed silent. She certainly hadn’t expected the High Queen to commend her snooping around and causing mischief within her own court. When she had exited the hidden tunnels, she had been surrounded by armed warriors. And yet…there was no hostility in Imogen’s expression.
How very curious.
“May I ask why you have brought me here?” she asked, and then added, “Your Majesty.”
Imogen took a long drink of her wine and then dropped the empty goblet to the stone floor where it fell with a heavyclunk. She sat up a little straighter, brushing the remnants of the drink from her lips with the back of her hand.
“When I was informed of your conversation with Reyna, I had our spymaster look into you,” Imogen began. “He painted quite the interesting portrait of you. A pub owner in Drunkard’s Pit, but one with a reputation for justice. Vengeance, really. I know who you are, and I know what you can do. And I know why you have come here this night.”
Mariel’s feet were like pure lead, rooted to the spot. She held the air tight in her lungs, not daring to breathe.
“You believe my husband to be involved in the deaths of those innocent low fae. You wish to see him dead, and I do not blame you for that in the slightest.”
“I…” Mariel could not form words.
“Unfortunately, the spymaster does not truly work for me. He is my husband’s creature. He suspected you would come here this night. The former king is well-guarded and has squirrelled himself away.”
For a moment, neither female spoke. They stared at each other, considering. There was a lot that Mariel thought she knew about the High Queen, but she could not have prepared herself for this. She wasn’t even entirely certain whatthiswas.
“Why have you brought me here?” Mariel finally asked. “It’s not to imprison me or you already would have.”
“No.” Imogen pushed up from her slouch and smiled, flashing Mariel her wine-stained teeth. “I have called you here to give you a warning and some advice. The spymaster will expect me to either throw you in the dungeons or have you beheaded. I will do neither, but it does mean that your life is forfeit if he ever finds you again. I would not return to your pub if I were you, not so long as he lives.”
Mariel’s heart thumped hard. “Is that the warning or the advice?”
“That was the warning.” Imogen’s smile grew wide. “My son has decided to take this throne from me. He will demand his coronation soon, and his father has no choice but to make an appearance. It might be the only chance for someone to get close enough to…take care of the problem.”
Imogen continued. “Sloane was a vicious king and is a cruel man. I cannot kill him myself. The Dagda would never forgive me. But if someone else were to turn their daggers toward his heart…I would make no move to stop her.”
Mariel’s hands fisted. “This is truly what you want, Your Majesty?”
It was as close to a yes or no question that one could get, and Mariel should not have asked it.
But Imogen gave a nod. “Yes. However, I believe I am doing you a favor by delivering you my husband and making certain my spymaster does not chop off your head. I only make one request.”
“Go on then. What do you want?”
Imogen’s smile grew wide. “During the coronation, I’ll give you a signal, when the right time comes. When it does, make certain you take out my former lover as well. Grand Alderman Aengus. Ginger hair, grey eyes.”
“I know who he is,” Mariel said quietly.
“Good. Now, go. You can escape through that door there and go out the window. Something tells me you are well-versed in scaling castle walls.”
That was the only encouragement she needed. Mariel gave the High Queen one last nod, and then fled the castle, knowing that the warriors would not be far behind.
41
Lorcan
Full dark had arrived, and there had been no sign of Thane. Perhaps Lorcan had been wrong to trust that his oldest friend would come. He might have lied about the prince’s love for Reyna, but Lorcan had been certain of their impending rescue regardless of his feelings.
Reyna was looking weaker by the moment. Her cheeks, which were normally full of blazing life, had gone white. She had also stopped arguing with him, which alarmed him far more than the glassiness of her silver eyes. She had mentioned something about her owl, about how her soul was linked to his. If only he knew how to call the creature to her aide, he would.
“Thane’s not coming,” she said softly from where she had propped herself up against the bars, bundling her cloak into a pillow to protect herself from the iron. At first, they had sat across from each other, but as they had shared tales of their past, he had moved to her side. She struggled to stay upright, and well, he did not wish to see her fall face-first against the hard ground, even if she did annoy him far more than seemed possible.
Lorcan frowned. Perhaps it was time to consider the alternative. Now that it was dark, Lorcan thought he might be able to get out of this cage. He had waited, certain that the prince would come along. But also because he did not want Reyna to witness his abilities. It would fully reveal the truth about who he was.
