Page 36 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

“Yes,” I choke out before my upper body falls over the table and I am heaving in the air I’m having difficulty breathing.

“Yes?” she repeats, stroking the hair that has fallen in my face that I have no energy to move. “That’s my boy.”

Black specks take over my vision, and I lose feeling entirely in my chest. I can barely hear Labyrinth when he says, “Lusia, that’s enough,” and she releases her hold on my life force.

My body is entirely too tired to sit up, but it is not growing tired still, and the black specks in my vision slowly fade.

Lusia says something I cannot hear, and I am left practically paralyzed on the table. The only thing I can do now is pray that she has not taken the last of my life force and that I will get to wake up from the unwanted slumber.

* * *

It’s night by the time my eyes open again. To my pleasant surprise, I’m not dead. I stagger to my feet, then to the castle halls, and when I open a portal, I go directly to the entrance of the headmistress’s office.

Cynthia waves me in when she sees me and I crash onto the davenport. The cushion is comfortable and worn from my many years in the seat.

“What were the circumstances of Desdemona’s arrival?” I ask her, my voice sounding weak, because I am.

“What did she share?”

“Nothing. But I’ve found crucial information for our cause.”

Cynthia leans closer to me, her intertwined fingers perched under her chin. “Do tell.”

“Her mother is in the void.” I fall deeper into the davenport. “Does Lusia know Desdemona is here?”

“No,” she says. “I did not alert anyone of her presence.”

Not illegal, not legal either, and certainly a telltale sign that Cynthia knows more about the topic.

“Why is that?”

Her eyebrows raise and a slight smirk draws her features up. “I have the same suspicions as you.”

I was twelve when I learned that the fairies wanted a protector, a creature to do their bidding. They created the Folk by crushing the bodies of their fallen into one to create a creature a hundred times bigger than them. The first thing they ordered their new protector to do was exterminate an entire species—the capris.

It didn’t take long for me to understand that the fairies did not want a protector, they wanted vengeance.

That was when I began to want vengeance too.

Cynthia understands this desire far more than anyone. The only thing is that to her it’s futile, and to me it’s inevitable.

“May your suspicions meet my ears?” I ask.

“Grant me a favor and they shall.”

I am the only one who knows the many reasons she may need a favor, and still, I debate.

To most, a verbal promise will only be paid back by one’s virtue. A Royal is not included in the generalization of most. If I offer her a favor now, I am to be indebted to her until she asks something of me. Similarly to how I will be forced to marry Calista after our betrothal. A favor from a Royal is a covenant deal.

Yet, Desdemona’s mother is certainly suspect number one as to why the Arcanes have come back to Elysia this time around. So here I am, saying, “Yes, Cynthia, you have my favor.”

“Desdemona’s mother was closely linked to Freyr before her death, not Dalin.”

Interesting. I say, “Clarify what you mean by her death.”

“Isa Althenia died seventeen years ago,” she says.

The way she speaks is irritating, as is my idea that it would be any different—even with a favor at play. She’s always made me work for my information.

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