Page 52 of Faerie Trials

We moved around a corner and they knocked against the nearest door. “Your Majesty?” Leftie called out.

The king’s voice sounded from inside telling us to enter. The door swung open on its own. The guards stood to the side and released their hold on me only after they were sure I wouldn’t make a run for it.

Tywin’s lackies waited while I made my way into the room. An office, I saw from a few furtive glances I dared to take. The walls were done in panels of red silk, with old wooden floors, and in the center a massive desk eight feet long at least.

The inner sanctum of the mad king, I thought. Except the thought didn’t make me laugh.

“Miss Alderidge, there you are,” Tywin said smoothly. “Please do come in and take a seat. I’d like to have a word with you.”

My face void of expression, I shuffled forward on numb feet and sat on one of the ladderback chairs in front of the long, low desk. The king sat behind it, with his fingers steepled in front of him. I zipped my lips. Waiting. Waiting to see what he would say.

This was way, way worse than facing Claribel and Rooker.

“As you can see, I did not ask the rest of the Elder Council to be here for this meeting. I thought it was something you and I needed to discuss privately.”

I wasn’t sure what chilled me more—the look he speared me with or the fact that he’d wanted the two of us alone.

I inclined my head. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”Keep it respectful,keep it short.Keep it together.

“As I’m sure you’re aware at this point, I have been in touch with the bureau. I know you were involved in a shifter attack last week.”

Tywin looked ready to kill someone. I wanted to die on the spot. “Yes, sir.”

Definitely no point in denying it. He already knew.

“I’m not going to ask you what happened. The bureau has already given me the details.” Tywin leaned forward, his expression grim. “I wanted to personally tell you that we are reopening our investigation. You are officially our number one suspect in Madam Muerte’s death.”

“What? Why?” I blurted out. Straining to hold myself in check.

“You were told to keep out of trouble. I’m sure you’re aware we do not tolerate shifters in these lands. Abominable creatures on their best day. Bloodthirsty savages on their worst,” he said. “I strongly recommend you not leave town, Miss Alderidge. Too many things have happened and too little is adding up to my liking. You must understand this is a concern to me.”

Every part of me trembled.

“The way I see it—” His clipped voice snapped against me like a whip. “You have two choices in this situation: Either you maintain your innocence and remain in town as we conduct our investigation, or…” Tywin paused. “You admit your culpability.”

“I’m not guilty,” I insisted without hesitation.

Tywin continued to stare at me. I focused on the bristles of his closely trimmed goatee. It was better than being frozen by his eyes. “There are fanatics in my land. Fanatics whose only purpose is to sow chaos. And yet even with these issues needing attention, you have been a niggling thorn in my side. Especially considering your odd friendship with my son.”

I jerked.

“If we find out you are the culprit,” Tywin said, “not only in the unfortunate death of Madam Muerte but behind the recent attacks, you will lose your citizenship in Faerie and find yourself back in the human realm. Forever. Do I make myself clear?”

What could I say? He did not accept my word no matter how many times I’d given it. Despite what the king said about expecting greatness from me, I believed the opposite. He suspected, and with his suspicion, he blamed, despite the truth.

He wanted to find someone guilty. Unfortunately, I’d been in the thick of things too many times.

I nodded slowly. “Yes, sir. Crystal clear.”

20

Isat glued to the chair for the longest time, waiting for the king to say something else.Anythingelse. He finally released me without another word and sent me on my way back to school like a good little girl. The guards paid me no mind as I bolted out of the room and down the hall.

I had enough to worry about already, such as not dying during the Trials, to concern myself with the king’s crazy, unfounded suspicions. I had to trust that since I didn’t murder Madam Muerte, there was no way the investigation would find me guilty. They couldn’t find evidence of a crime I didn’t commit. Right? The spell that had taken her out was so beyond anything I was able to do. Surely the king must realize that.

So why couldn’t they finish with all of this and let me go? What was taking them so long if the king had the investigation reopened?

What a time to be alive.

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