Page 186 of The Trials of Ophelia

“Because she needs that woman more than either of us right now,” the second reminded him.

Their steps froze.

“What is that?” the first growled.

Santorina’s breath caught, but I suppressed a wicked smile.

“Is that a horse?”

“What in Bant’s Spirit is it doing here?” They shuffled forward again. I could make out each of their exhales as they warily crept toward the grounds.

As they watched Sapphire straight ahead and twenty feet out, where I’d told her to wait. To steal their attention.

One of them gasped, gripping his ax. “Is it’s mane blue?”

“Bant’s fucking cock, it’s her?—”

But before the Engrossian could finish his observation, my dagger lodged in his throat, his body crumpling to the ground like a limp doll.

The second whirled, his eyes widening. Barrett jumped him from behind before his ax was raised. The prince wrestled the soldier to the ground and tossed his weapon aside, pinning the Engrossian. Santorina retrieved the ax as I ran to the squirming pair.

“Your Royal Highness?” The warrior gaped up at his former prince, but Barrett only sneered, tightening his grip on his wrists.

I leaned over the man. “Where is she?”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “I knew it was you. That horse gave you away.”

“That horse is the bait that got your careless friend killed,” I hissed. “And you’re next, unless you tell me where Kakias is.”

“I won’t betray my queen,” he growled, his eyes flicking to Barrett. “Unlike some of you.”

“Kill him,” Barrett said.

The warrior bucked, but Barrett’s weight pressed him harder into the snow.

“She’s not on this side of the manor,” I guessed. “You had no guards stationed here. Only one measly, useless patrol.” He stilled, and I assessed that bouncing gaze. “So she’s inside somewhere? Or…” I thought back to the layout Ricordan had drawn of his home, and I smiled. “She’s in the inner courtyard isn’t she?”

A protected space that still allowed access to the moonlight—a key ingredient we’d need to reverse the ritual. The reason Ricordan had recommended the location for our trap in the first place.

“I knew we shouldn’t have trusted the information,” the warrior spat. “The kid was brainless.”

Barrett and I both froze. Behind me, Santorina inhaled sharply.

Trev.

Ricordan had not set us up. His son had.

Trevaneth had been lingering in the council all day as we planned, had asked a number of questions, and then disappeared. All the while, I’d thought him simply curious. He was too young for the gruesome realities of war.

But that was it—he was young. He was a boy who wanted his mother back, and though he made the wrong choice, I could not entirely fault him for that.

Now, though, we had to clean up his mess and hope losing the chance of surprise did not cost us the war. I bolted down the worries and aching sorrow that wrought within me, though.

“We’re done here,” I said, voice dry. Whipping Starfire from my belt, I swung her across the Engrossian’s neck in one smooth motion.

I didn’t watch him die. Instead, I strode around the side of the manor, reconstructing Ricordan’s blueprint in my memory.

“Ophelia?” Santorina whispered, worry thick in her voice.

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