WHEN WE REACHED thestairs that led to the thrones, the guards allowed us to pass, but only after the attendant—a different one than last time—verified my name. They didn’t protest when Soren and the others followed me up the stairs, thankfully.
Only one of the thrones was occupied, by King Mordeus. As we scaled the stairs, though, Caius sauntered out from a hidden door in the shadows. Of course the royal family had a second hidden entrance.
When the prince’s eyes met mine, he smirked, and either I saw through his facade more clearly now or he wasn’t nearly as friendly.
Behind me, Soren whispered to Lore, “I really hoped he’d be back by now so we wouldn’t need to go through with this.”
Does he mean Peregrin?I turned to give him a quizzical look over my shoulder. What did he mean by “wouldn’t need to go through with this”? But Soren’s mask of indifference was firmly in place.
“Brynn Donovan,” King Mordeus said. But his voice boomed as if magnified, and my whole body flinched. Did he sound like this with everyone when they reached the top, or was he magically amplifying his speech? Glancing back at the court below, my shoulders tensed. Every single pair of eyes had turned to face us. We definitely had an audience. I wanted to throw up.
Caius dropped casually into the throne beside his father, leveling me with a bored gaze, but didn’t speak.
“I’ve heard disturbing reports regarding your family connections,” the king declared after a long pause where only the shuffling of plates and whispers below filled it.
“Oh?” I said, ever so eloquently.
I blinked, then blinked again, and again. I probably looked like I had something in my eye.
Sweat poured out of me. It soaked my borrowed shirt beneath the leather top. They could probably see.
The king let the awkward silence linger—whether for dramatic effect or to make me cave and tell the truth, I couldn’t say.
His stare sucked the oxygen out of the room.
Oops, never mind. That was my fault. I’d forgotten to breathe.
Soren’s arm brushed mine.
The subtle pressure helped ground me. I leaned into his warmth slightly, grateful for his help, and put on my bravest face.
Pretty sure I still trembled, but it was the best I could do.
“I’m told the Grimhollow clan wants the heads of the fae who took your mother’s family,” the king finally stated, loud enough for all nearby members of the court to hear.
Wow. I definitely hadn’t said that.
The lie had expanded and transformed like that kids’ game of “telephone,” where the whispers somehow stretched in the telling and grew bigger than the original. In this case, though, it had really worked in my favor.
“I obviously can’t say for sure,” I told him, trying to sound respectful and ignore the prince in the corner of my vision. “But you know the Grimhollow reputation.” That last bit had been Soren’s idea. Let their ruthless honor speak for itself.
We’d drawn quite a crowd already, but this statement had nearby folk waving down fellow fae from a distance.
Soren cleared his throat.
Right, he’d said when the time came to bring up my family, I shouldn’t hesitate. If he thought it was a good time, it must be.
“I think a simple solution would be to release them from their contracts,” I began.
