Page 39 of The Lure of Wolves and Whispers

“You’re here for the Assay, aren’t you? You’re the girl they brought up from Seaside.”

“Quayside.”

“Whatever.” She waves a hand, delicate silver bands on each finger catching in the thin sunlight breaking through the mist. “That’s what I meant.”

Seaside is a trading post beyond the city walls, far to the northeast, between us and the old mage stronghold of Tara. “They’re pretty far from the same.”

“They’re nothere.” Her blue eyes flash. “For everyone in this castle for the next month, that’s all that matters. You’re an outsider. Not one of us.” Her words hang between us. “You must be afraid.”

I bristle. “What makes you say that?”

The edges of her mouth tighten ever so slightly. It would barely be noticeable if Finn hadn’t taught me what to look for in a liar. “The servants were gossiping. Why were you running outside in the middle of the night?”

Damn it. I should’ve been more careful. Clearly, someone saw me—someone who could’ve attacked at any point.

A smile tugs at the corners of her eyes. “You’re all anyone’s talking about. Especially now that all the noble families from across Eireann are here. They’re eyeing up the competition. Making plans for who to go after first in the Assay.” She tilts her head. “The Western Warden told the whole court that he saw the gardai bring you in two weeks ago, and said that you had a blond streak in your hair. Right here.” She gestures down the side of her head.

The same spot as the girl in the dungeon.

The one Talon killed to put me here in her place.

My pulse quickens. If anyone suspects I’m not really supposed to be here, it’s all the excuse the gardai would need to kill me.

“The Western Warden?” I skirt past the unspoken question in her tone and focus elsewhere. My lack of knowledge about court politics, about anything beyond Dyfflin—Quayside, really—is dangerous here. I need to know who my enemies are.

The girl shrugs. “He’s been here all month, waiting for the Assay to start. I guess the unrest on the estates he took over five years ago is finally under control so he can risk a longer trip to court. Usually he’s only here for meetings with…” Her eyes drop to the gnarled roots beneath us. “Never mind.”

As if I care what some noble on the other side of the isle does in his spare time.

She smooths a hand along the front of her cloak, seeming to collect herself. “I’m Aoife, by the way,” the girl says, pronouncing her name likeee-fa.

“Maeve.” I look her up and down. “Tell me, Aoife. Why would anyone care about a peasant girl enough to gossip if I was in the garden in the middle of the night?”

“They might not,” she says. “What theydocare about is who you were with.”

I still.

The prince.

“Normally, even by now, the heir in an Assay has hinted at a favorite. Most of the noble daughters competing are heiresses in their own right and—since only one ever survives—all the estates spend months getting their affairs in order, just in case. A lot of them place bets and cross-bets on who will win, and the money from those bets helps… blunt the worst of the anger at losing one of their own. But Cash—Prince Cashel—hasn’t given so much as a clue. All the nobles are betting blind, and you know how twitchy people get about losing money.”

I arch a brow. “You think I’ve ever had money to lose?”

“Right.” She blushes. “Well… then you can see why the idea of you in the garden with him in the middle of the night might make betting nobles tense.”

The last thing anyone in power likes is a wild card.

Suspicion sharpens my senses. “You know him well enough to call himCash?”

Aoife pales. Her lips press into a thin line, and she looks away from me. “We’re related. Distantly,” she adds. “Second cousins, through our fathers.”

No wonder there’s so much purple in her robe. But her boots—the wear, and scuffing all over them… still, she should be eligible to compete in the Assay.

Why is she sitting here talking to me?

I level a hard glance at her. “You must have a busy day, getting ready for the Assay. You’re competing too, right?”

I may as well have asked if she plans on traipsing down to the Black Quay.