Page 91 of Ruling the Green

“Dany is as mad as a bog witch.”

There was a human saying about a pot and a kettle that applied here.

“Dany was under a spell. It is broken. She is on the throne.”

Cass’s face went splotchy, the anger rising up from his core, tinting his neck beet red and creeping up his face.

“You think you can lie to me?” His fist slammed onto the table, making some books and papers stacked precariously near the edge topple to the floor.

Alright.

Time to change tack.

“What do you want from Celestine?” I asked. “I might be able to get her to meet with me under the right conditions.”

“You know what I need from her.”

“Her powers,” I guessed.

“I need to burn every last bastard who is lying to me. Force them to tell me the truth.”

“Okay. Who is lying to you?”

“Who isn’t?”

“Who are you most concerned with?” I asked. He might be mad, but I figured there was likely a little reality stitched in there somewhere. And if there was someone on his list that wasn’t on my list, then I wanted to know.

“Grimwood,” he growled. There was definitely a reason to worry about him. Not that I was going to tell him that, though. “Moorestone. And that vicious bitch.”

That could be several of the women in powerful families. “Which one?”

“Donella.”

Donella?

The woman who hadn’t had a sober thought in my entire life?

“Why Donella?” I clarified, wondering if maybe her drunkenness was a cover, if Cass knew something I didn’t.

“What she did to me at the ball.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

He wanted me to drag my sister to the dungeon, drain her of her powers, then use them to burn a woman who publicly spurned him back when he’d been a prince?

“Alright. I’ll add her to the list. Is there anything else?”

The redness had leeched away from his face, leaving him ashen and sunken. But he seemed calmer.

Behind me, Tove cleared his throat as he came closer.

“My King,” he said, coming closer with a glass of what looked like wine. “You forgot to drink your evening wine.”

My gaze cut to my father’s advisor, but he said nothing as he handed my father the glass and watched as he obediently sipped.

So I was right.

He was drugging him.