Page 70 of Lady of the Lake

“I need to know if he’s likely to recover from this disease. There’s no point wasting our efforts if he dies tomorrow.”

I look down at myself, at the cloaks dyed with vibrant shades of midnight blue and cherry red. “But I will attractsomeattention. I’m not dressed like I’m from the country.”

He shrugs. “You’re dressed differently because you’re not from here. You’re a visiting healer for Lord Kahedin, straight from Corbinelle. So, of course, that’s why you need to ask about his health.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handful of copper coins. “This should be enough for food without suggesting you might be here with a prince.”

My stomach rumbles, and I don’thatethe idea of getting some food. In fact, my mouth is already watering. I pull off my rings, placing them on the windowsill, and check my reflection in the murky glass. I undo my hair, wearing it loose like the commoners do. I take off my second cloak and hang it over the chair. “How do I look?”

He pins me with his gaze, and his dark eyebrows knit together. “Memorable, but you’ll pass for a Corbinelle healer. Just be careful what you say. You’ve got to play the role. If anyone gets suspicious, you’ll be reported to the King’s Watch.”

He has no idea how good I am at playing a part.

As I’m walkingdown the road to the nearby village, it occurs to me that it’s the first time I’ve been walking outside alone since I nearly died in the explosion. No guards, no palace staff, no Talan or Nivene.

I stalk through the woods utterly alone except for the eerie echo of a wren’s song wending through the forest. A weight settles on my shoulders, pressing down on me. Cold mist twines between the trunks.

All this time, I’ve been behaving almost automatically, responding to people’s expectations of me, showing them a reflection of what they need to see. Nia the farm girl, the princess, and the Avalon agent doing what she’s told.

At home, I’m Nia the people-pleaser, the caretaking daughter.

But who am I, really?

I don’t have a home anymore. I suspect Wrythe of trying to kill me from Avalon Tower, and I’ve been trying to kill those around me here. The idea of returning to California with my mom makes me want to vomit.

That leaves me with one last role to play.

From now on, I make my own choices. No more blindly following the orders of Avalon Tower, nor will I bend completely to Talan’s machinations. He’s still dangerous, capricious, and morally questionable. And yet, I no longer believe that killing him is the right thing to do. Even if he’s out for himself, he’s taking down his father first, and that makes him an ally. And if that’s true, maybe I can change his mind. Maybe I can make him see humans as more than dispensable pawns.

Slowly, carefully, I want to form an alliance with him.

I just have no idea how to tell him what I’ve been doing here this whole time.

As I walk, I pull my cloak tightly around me. At the edge of the forest, the trees thin. I cross into a misty clearing and climb onto a hill overlooking the village. It takes me a minute to get a good view through the fog, but at last, I see cottages huddled near a river below. Lanterns hang from crooked stone walls, tinging the mist with gold. As I walk closer, I spot a few fishermen casting off by the river’s edge and some kids chasing each other on the outskirts of town, bundled up against the cold. A few women look after them.

I trudge down the hill, my misty breath mingling with the fog. Smoke curls into the air from a cottage, and I smell freshly baked bread. My stomach rumbles.

I’m fucking starving, and now I can’t stop thinking about a particular pizza place I used to go to back at home. I’ve beeneating wildflowers and salmon and oatcakes for months now, and I wanted nothing more than several slices of oily pepperoni with hot pepper flakes. My mouth waters, and for one moment, I don’t want magic and enchantment anymore. I just want fast food foronehuman meal.

As I reach the cobbled road at the bottom of the hill, the children’s laughter fades, and they turn to stare at me, wide-eyed and rosy-cheeked, their mittens covered in snow. One of them grins, showing off a big gap in her teeth. Fey children areadorable.

I shift my gaze to the women watching over them. Their thick cloaks of undyed wool blend with the mist, and their expressions are cautious.

“Good day,” I say. “I think I am lost. I’m trying to get to Lord Kahedin’s castle.”

The two women exchange bemused glances.

“Definitely going the wrong way,” the older one tells me. “You should return on the path you came from and turn north at the crossroads. It’s about a day’s walk from here.”

“Oh.” I adopt a frustrated expression. “I knew I made the wrong turn somewhere. Is there a place in town where I can buy some food? I’m starving”

The woman nods at one of the cottages. “Ol’ Dreena has a bakery just there, and some meat. But you do know Lord Kahedin is sick, yes? He’s very contagious.”

I nod. “I’m here to help him. I’m a healer. Is he hanging in there all right?”

“No idea,” one of them says. “Could be dead by now, for all I know. Then we get a new lord, and nothing else changes for us, does it?”

“Right. Of course. Thank you.” I turn and cross the cobbled road to a shop with a painted sign hanging out front and a large window stacked with bread and pies. I push through the door,and my mouth waters. The scent of fresh baking, roasting meat, and sweets hits me right in the stomach. Food lines every wall.

A woman stands behind the counter, kneading dough. Her pointed Fey ears stick through her long, straight, green hair. Behind her, shelves are lined with all the supplies that people here probably need to survive—farming tools, flour, herbs, and dried fruit.

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