Page 4 of Vicious Is My Throne

“The royal coffers are overflowing with gilder, so when our queen ordered me to secure five horses, I figured the sky was the limit.”

“That was a request, not an order. And I am not the queen.”

“Everyone in Blackcastle would beg to differ.” Lyrae flicked back her straight black hair before her expression turned a shade exasperated. “I purchased these from the city stabler yesterday and paid him a fair price. When he heard they were for the princess who freed the city, he gave me the best steeds on hand.”

For a long moment, I considered her.

Exotically beautiful. Efficient. Dangerous.

These past weeks, Lyrae had become—at least on the surface—a loyal member of our group. Torin had taken our former enemy into her confidence; even Zephryn swore she’d turned over a new leaf. But I’d spent most of my life pretending to be someone I was not, and I saw the signs in Lyrae.

Her cooperation was nothing but an act.

Perhaps she’d been acting for so long she didn’t know how to stop. But behind her easy smile I saw the cold calculation. As she stood quietly beside me during royal audiences, I watched her scan the crowd with that assassin’s stare that discerned too much.

For weeks now, I’d watched and wondered what her end game was. Why she stuck around when the smart move would have been to head south to the Havens, get on a boat, and never look back.

But I’d never asked the questions that swirled in my head.

“I’m not a princess either,” I muttered, re-buckling my saddlebag, tugging the belt tight. We were alone. As alone as we’d ever be, and even then, I considered walking away. But Lyrae had fucked me over in the worst way and I couldn’t leave without saying something.

Without knowing why she’d forced me to kill Ember.

Besides, I might not get another chance.

“I have a hard time trusting someone who tricked me into killing my best friend.” I held up my hand when she went to answer, this…murderer who’d allied with the Oracle had slaughtered innocents in the name of a sadistic king.

“I never had a mother or a father. Never had siblings. All I had was Ember, and she only came to Caladrius because of me. I’d told her enough stories to make these realms seem so…wonderfully magical, she didn’t see the rot hiding underneath. Not until it was too late. I’ll carry her death as long as I live.”

I swallowed. “Tell me why you tricked me that day. Why you were working for the Oracle.”

Lyrae blinked, her blue eyes the same shade as Adele’s. In fact, she reminded me more of the witches—long, sleek black hair, pale eyes and skin—than High Fae.

“Torin knows the story. Ask her, since you clearly don’t trust me.” Every word was clipped.

“I want to hear the truth from you.”

Her lips thinned out. “Fine, but not a single word to anyone. Nobody can know.” Like me, she scanned our surroundings, her eyes skating up the front of the Keep before she shifted behind my horse and dropped her voice.

“My sister was a thief, not out of necessity but because she enjoyed stealing. And she was good. Really good. She came by the profession honestly enough since our parents were two of Tempeste’s most wanted pickpockets and she only followed in their footsteps.”

I didn’t know what surprised me more.

That Lyrae was from Tempeste, or that her parents were criminals.

Light flickered in Lyrae’s cold blue eyes then went out. “She went after something she had no business stealing, and she wasn’t fast enough to evade the king’s elite guard. She ended up in the Fae King’s dungeon, scheduled to be executed.”

Lyrae’s shrug was too stiff to be nonchalant. “I was a low-level grunt in the army but had always wanted more. The Oracle caught me outside the Citadelle’s dungeons sneaking in to free my sister and made me a deal. Be her eyes and ears in the Shadow King’s court, and my sister would be spared.”

Her smile turned bitter. “I made the deal. Of course I made the fucking deal. What else could I have done? But even freedom didn’t save my sister. She died in a shitehole prison somewhere in the Shadowlands while I was killing royals in the Shadow King’s daily audiences so he could feel powerful.”

A low, quiet laugh. “I’ve served the Oracle longer than my sister was even alive. How do you think that makes me feel?”

“So the Oracle blackmailed you to do her dirty work in an enemy realm. I assume you passed vital information back to her?”

Lyrae nodded. “Simon was the main courier, flying back and forth between Blackcastle and Tempeste. Torin went along…because none of us could stand up to her. We were all her puppets.”

Alright, that tracked but still didn’t explain why Lyrae stuck her neck out to help us.

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