Page 59 of Lady of the Lake

“Last night, in the dark. I know he wasn’t the best father to you, but he’s still the father of a princess of Brocéliande.” He pauses, searching my face. “He deserves to be buried among the honored dead. But we must keep his death a secret. If anyone connects you to Arwenna’s murder, I’ll have a harder time protecting you from the King’s Watch.”

A sharp tendril of guilt coils through me, and I swallow hard. My job would be a lot easier here if he were a straight-up asshole with no redeeming qualities. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. “Thank you, Talan.”

The setting sun casts him in amber. “There’s another reason I asked you here. Back in Aedan’s mansion, it seemed you could use your powers freely. Has the pain gone?”

“I still get a headache when I use my magic, but I can ignore it if I have to.”

“Good, because I’m going to need your magic again very soon.”

“Who’s your target?” I ask.

“Lord Kahedin.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “I know he’s powerful, but isn’t he bedridden with the Ichor Plague? I heard the ladies talking about it. Most of his servants have died.”

“Yes. It’s unfortunately highly contagious and fatal.”

“My mind control powers work with touch. As charming as you might be, my prince, I’m not willing to risk an agonizing death for you.”

Talan leans in slightly, enough for the warmth of his body to wash over me. “It’s a real problem.” His smile is slow, sensual. “But you can always touch me instead. I already know you want to.”

Heat licks down my spine. “What do you mean?”

He swirls the mead in his glass, his gaze never leaving mine. Calculating. Intense. “I can step into Kahedin’s dreams. Unfortunately, I found it difficult to influence him there, but I can take you with me. You can manipulate him from there. You touch me, and I bring you into the dream world.”

I blink. “You can do that?”

He tilts his head, his gaze heavy-lidded. “You’ll need to practice first. You get to do something no one has ever done, Nia. You get to see inside my head.”

CHAPTER 28

Ifollow Talan into a small, round room with a window view of the kingdom. The snow and ice glow with shades of periwinkle and peach as the sun dips lower, hanging just above the city walls. Pillows nestle on curving benches, and I settle down on one next to the windows.

Talan lights a few candles in sconces.

“And what should I expect to find in your pretty head?” I ask.

He turns to me, a lock of his black hair falling across his sharp cheekbones. “Scared of what you’ll learn about me?”

“No.”

“Could be anything, Nia. I control other people’s dreams but not my own. Sometimes, I dream of memories, and other times fears. Occasionally, it’s pleasure. Let’s hope for your sake it’s the latter.”

“And what, exactly, should I be practicing?”

“Your job in my dreams is to remember whoyouare. You need to remember your separate identity as Nia.”

Ah. Well, then, I’m fucked. At this point, after months and months of faking, who knows who the real Nia is?

“Don’t get lost in my unconscious,” he warns. “Don’t forget who you are because you’ll need your magic and skills.”

He sits next to me and touches my face. His magic washes around me, a soft caress of dark power that skims over my skin. I’m keeping my own protections up, not letting him into my head, and yet, I feel myself falling into his mind, plummeting into his shadowed depths, and fear claws at me.

I curlup in a cramped space and inhale in the scent of mold and dirt. It’s oppressively dark in here. I can’t breathe, but no one expects someone to breathe in a grave, and I’ve been buried for years. You’d think your heart would stop beating after they inter you, but mine keeps going, slamming against my ribs, refusing to stop. If I were human, it would have stopped long ago. Do they realize their fragility is a mercy?

The panic never goes away, not even after you’re dead. Sometimes, I wonder if I ever existed, or if I have always been here, trapped in the dark.

I’vealwayshated not being in control. Locked up.

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