“Leave me alone.”
“Netta …”
I paused, my hand resting on the doorframe to steady myself as I turned to him.
His voice dropped, quiet and controlled.
“You think I would force you to marry against your will?” he said. “You misjudge me. I would never want you to be unhappy.”
“No, just obedient.”
“I would protect you …”
“I know very well that you would protect yourinvestment,” I said, letting a little venom creep in on the last word. “How stupid you must have thought me, all this time.”
“You are not stupid.” He reached his hand out to me, but I ignored it. “I have never thought that. Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I don’t—”
He cut himself off.
I searched his face, heart pounding. “Don’t what?”
“Nothing. You cannot understand.”
“Oh, I understand,” I shot back. “You want to give me to the king because it benefitsyou. Because it elevatesyou. Because youarethe ambitious little weasel Milady told me you were.”
The change in him was immediate.
“You knownothing,” he hissed, his voice low and venomous. Baldbeak snapped at him, but he ignored it.
“Do you think Iwantyou to marry the king?” he said. “When I—” He cut himself off again. “I want Virelith to survive, and if the Temple has free rein, or we descend into civil war, that won’t happen.” He leaned in, dropping his voice to a murmur. “But you were right about one thing, Netta. You are not a pawn. You arethe whole game.”
My heart stuttered in my chest; my breath came fast and shallow. I felt off-balance. The moment stretched too long, and something in Patrick’s eyes changed—softening and darkening at once. I tilted my head up ever so slightly. His gaze dropped to my mouth. I swallowed. It was bizarre, inexplicable, but I was certain—certain—that he was going to kiss me.
But then he leaned back.
“You don’t have to like me, Netta,” he said flatly. “I am selfish, I know. I am ambitious. But I’m alsoright.” He turned on his heel and walked away.
I went into my room and slammed the door, fuming, thinking of all the cutting things I should have said in the moment, only to see Mieka jump up from where she had been sitting on the bed, grinning widely as if sure of her welcome. When she saw my expression, her grin faltered.
“Netta? What’s the matter?”
“Oh, apparently I’m going to marry the king,” I said. I paused for long enough to allow Baldbeak to hop from my shoulder to the back of the mirror and then threw myself face-down on the bed. “That’s been the goal all along.”
“What …”
“Yes. The king is very kindly granting us admission to the Temple’s catacombs to find my mother, so long as I align myself with the crown. Which means marrying him, evidently. Oh, and I’m meant to heal him as well, I think. All part of Patrick’s master plan.” I thumped my head into the thick mattress a couple of times, then turned it to the side so that I could see Mieka’s face.
“Did you know?” I asked dully. “What he has been planning?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t; I swear I didn’t.”
I looked up at her.
“I mean, I didn’t know he wanted you to marry the king,” she amended. “I knew he was loyal to the crown. I mean, we all are.”
“We?”
“We’ve talked about this, Netta. Those of us who want magic to be freed again, so that anyone can practice any kind of magic they choose. You know that. The king is the only one sympathetic to our cause.”
