Page 47 of A Queen This Fierce and Deadly

I wasn’t entirely a monster. Although, I was sure I was close.

I surveyed him. He’d once told me he’d become trapped on this continent when the barrier went up. Which made him over four hundred years old. He didn’t seem like one of the fae, but if he was hybrid, he would have shown more signs of aging. So, what was he?

“What were you doing here?”

“I was attempting to travel to a northern village.”

“Why?”

He gave me an amused look that silently asked me why I felt entitled to that information. “I will help you round up your lost sheep,” he said.

I didn’t bother arguing. Hopefully, the hybrids had continued moving in the direction I had instructed. I surveyed the carnage around us one last time.

They would have hunted every single fleeing hybrid until we were all dead.

I wished we could kill them all again.

THE QUEEN

Pelysian’s mother stared at me. It had been hours since I walked into this hovel, and I’d been forced to sit here and watch her stitch. She hadn’t even offered me sustenance.

Her gaze flicked to the mirror behind me, and I turned. Still black.

“Only two such mirrors in existence, and one of them was shattered under your watch,” she said.

“I almostdied, witch.”

She just tutted at me.

“What is your name?” I asked, shifting on the uncomfortable wooden chair. It scraped against the earthen floor. Truly, it was barely a hut. And yet, I would need to get used to such poverty—at least until my son was crowned. Without the grimoire in my hands, making sure Jamic took his rightful place would be difficult. But not impossible. If Prisca killed Regner, Jamic and I would find a way to kill her and take the book.

The hag turned her attention to the shirt she was stitching. “How many times have we spoken before now?”

If she thought such a pointed question could embarrass me, she was mistaken. “Too many,” I said.

She let out a chuckle that turned into a hoarse cough. “My name is Ravynia.”

“Your power is vast. Why do you not use it to claw your way out of this poverty?”

“This is not poverty. You do notknowpoverty. You have not seen it, smelled it, lived it. I am content with mylife and my home. Besides, if those in power were to learn of my gift, what do you think would happen to me?”

I knew what would happen to her, because I had plans to install her in the castle the moment Regner was dead. She would ensure I could always see my enemies coming. And forever outwit them. She would fight it, but I knew who her children were. And as I knew well, people would do anything for their children.

She gave a faint smile as if she was reading my thoughts. “Imagine if Regner had enjoyed my power,” she said mildly.

I shivered at the thought. But her life would be much different under my service. Unlike my husband, I was not evil. Nor was I insane.

The afternoon passed achingly slowly. Finally, hooves sounded outside. I stiffened, but Ravynia waved her hand. “It is my son.”

He took his time, likely untacking his own horse. When he finally opened the door, he didn’t look surprised to see me.

A quick glance at his mother and then his eyes met mine once more.

“Your ladies are dead, aren’t they, Your Majesty?”

I felt a pang somewhere in my upper chest at the memory of the terror in their eyes. “Yes.”

Pelysian’s gaze dropped to my hand, which was rubbing my chest. “And does it bother you?” he asked softly. “Knowing you’re the reason for their deaths? Knowing they likely could have lived if you had given them a second thought?”

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