Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“I’ll call for your handmaid. She can get you more—”
“Please don’t. Mordeus is back?”
“There are rumors,” Misha says, standing and coming closer. “You are stunning,” he says, sweeping his gaze over me. “May I be so bold as to ask you to walk with me?”
Brie shoots him a puzzled look. “I’ll handle this.”
I roll my eyes. The ring is effective, but sometimes the results are . . . absurd. “Focus,” I tell them. “Tell me what you know about Mordeus.”
Brie looks to both Misha and Finn, who’s pushed to his feet to come closer, but they’re both under the spell of my ring and offer her no help. She sighs. “My sources tell me that his followers have been chattering about his return—a supposed resurrection,” she says. “We have spies in the field as we speak, trying to find out more, but I don’t want you to worry about it.”
I cock my head and study her. She seems her normal self. Almost as if she’s unaffected by the ring.
I don’t have time to worry about what that could mean. Finn comes toward us, and when I meet his silver eyes, a shiver of revulsion goes down my spine.
I shift my gaze and focus on his dark curls, so different from the straight, silver-streaked hair of his wicked uncle Mordeus.
Finn gestures to his chair. “Please, take my seat. Let me get you some tea.”
“No, thank you,” I say. “I’m tired and want to go back to bed.”
“I’ll walk you,” Misha says, eyes bright. “I want to make sure everything in your room is as you like it.”
“You all stay here and finish your meeting.” I step back toward the stairwell. “You never saw me anyway.”
I turn away from the doe-eyed affection on their faces and walk quickly to the stairs. Behind me, I hear my sister ask, “What is wrong with you two?”
I bite back a laugh and go to my chambers.
The sentry who stands outside my door beams when he spots me, his eyes bright, his smile comically wide.
“What can I do for milady?” he asks. Dryus is a distant cousin of Finn’s, with the same silver eyes, light brown skin, and dark hair. He’s young and kind and has been nothing but good to me in the three years he’s been charged with my protection, but his pointed, elven ears are a reminder than he can’t be trusted. My once-human sister excepted, no faeries can. I was a stupid little girl for ever believing otherwise.
I cock my head to the side. “Do you tire of babysitting a human girl?” I ask.
“It is both tedious and a privilege, milady. But what of you? Are you tired? May I help you in any way?”
I sigh. His honesty is boring. I was hoping for evidence of an ugly heart beneath that pretty face. Perhaps it’s the ring that makes me crave a reason to hate him. “Remember, the princess was in her room all night. She passed the hours reading because she couldn’t sleep.”
“Of course, milady.”
I step around him and through the door, hanging my cloak and stripping out of my dress. I pull on the sleeping gown my maid helped me into eight hours ago. It seems like a lifetime.
Mordeus is back.
I stare at my magic ring, at the smooth moonstone framed on either side with a silver crescent moon. It’s time to take it off, but I dread the brutal humanity that will follow. Maybe this time it won’t. Maybe I can block out the pain the same way my tutors have taught me to block faeries from my thoughts.
The second I slide the silver band from my finger, my terror hits me like a tidal wave, and I collapse onto the bed.
Mordeus is back. Mordeus is looking for a way to destroy my sister.
I know I should care about what he wants beyond that—the part where he intends to steal back the throne and rule this kingdom, but I don’t. I want no part of it, royal fae blood and destiny be damned.
I drag myself to my pillow and bury my face, muffling sobs. I have my own wing in this palace, but no privacy. In addition to the sentry outside my door, there are two more at the top of the main stairs and another standing at the servants’ stairs. If they hear me cry, my sister will know about it by morning.
I grip the ring so hard it bites into my palm. I want to put it back on. It will ease this ache in my chest—turn it to ice, numb my heart, and cool my anger. It will transform this nightmare I’ve found myself living into a plan for vengeance.
I could. I could slide it on my finger and slip right past the guards. Let them greet me and forget me just as quickly. But Gommid’s warning chimes in my head. You must be yourself more than the Enchanting Lady, or she will control you.