Page 69 of The Witch Queen

Fuck, this is bad.This will devastate Laurel. She’s spoken little of the friend turned advisor, but I can sense the closeness of their bond. I fold the letter up carefully, then tuck it into the inside pocket of my cloak. Silene returns the thayar ledgers, and Fionn locks the drawer again. We sit in silence until Krantz arrives. When he opens the door, he gives us a threatening smile, something about his facial expressionsofffrom the last time we saw him, like his skin is stretched tighter across his face.

“How was your Solstice and Abscission?” he asks as he seats himself at his desk.

“It was restful, thank you. Velmaran tradition only celebrates on the day of the Solstice itself, so we were pleasantly surprised to find we had two weeks to do nothing but relax, amongother things,” I explain lazily, insinuating I had many affairs over the course of the holiday period. The mask of the charming and pleasure-seeking prince is firmly in place.

Krantz grins wide. “Excellent, excellent. I’ve heard rumors you’ve been seen rebuilding the merchant district. Why is that?” His gaze is cold and calculating, turning quickly from comradery to accusation.

Silene and Fionn stiffen beside me, but I keep my cool. “The Queen asked us directly for our assistance. Surely you can understand we were required to help her to maintain our cover.”

Krantz waves me off. “Yes, yes, of course. What do you think of Queen Laurel? Have you grown close to her?”

Even I can’t keep my brows from furrowing at this strange question. “I wouldn’t say that I’ve grown close to her, but I am attempting to maintain my position as an ambassador,” I say slowly, unsure what kind of answer he’s expecting. Krantz’s expression darkens for only a moment before he smiles again and changes the subject.

“And what was the palace like after our attack?” His eyes look predatory, and I carefully consider my words.

“It was somber, to be sure. We don’t interact with many who live there, but we attended a Solstice dinner with those who were displaced by the attack.” He hangs on my every word, manic interest in his eyes. “I must tell you, I fear you harmed your reputation by attacking citizens.” I say the words slowly, as if I’m just considering them now.

“And why is that?” His gaze is intense.

“Just the whispers at the palace. Many say you’re only interested in causing terror, that you don’t actually care about undermining Queen Laurel’s rule, since you’ve yet to attack her directly. I overheard servants just the other day saying you hadn’t attacked because you’re afraid of her.”

“I’m not afraid of thatbitch,” he spits, though there’s also a twinge of excitement in his tone. It’s strange, and once again I find myself uneasy in his presence. “Of course we want to attack the palace and the Witch Queen directly. But we haven’t been able to get enough information about her habits to plan an effective attack. And the palace is hard to infiltrate unless there’s a public event.”

I pause, pretending to think hard about his conundrum. Then I break out into a massive grin. “Perhaps we can help with that.”

He grins back. “Perhaps you can, Your Highness. Our alliance is proving to be more and more fruitful.” I want to squirm at the way his eyes alight with malice, but I hold myself steady.

“What information do you need?”

For the next hour, we discuss the various details he wants us to uncover. Nemesia’s letter burns my skin where it rests against my chest, but I keep my mask and focus in place. Krantz wants details of Laurel’s daily routine, how her advisors who don’t live at the palace get in each day, any additional secret passages we might know of—all the typical things someone would want. I lavish him with promises of information and vows to work together to bring down the Witch Queen. Fionn and Silene stay silent, playing their roles as advisors well. We agree to meet here again in two weeks’ time to exchange any information we collect. Krantz assures me that he has no current attacks on civilians planned, and I leave feeling as if I’ve accomplished Laurel’s wishes. Even if I know the additional information I uncovered will bring her more than she may be prepared to handle.

When we arrive back at our apartment in the palace, I immediately will light to dance across the ceiling of Laurel’s rooms, hoping she’ll see the signal quickly. My mind races with how best to relay the information, and where to do it. I pace in our sitting room, running through every possibility.

“I’m going to go find her,” I tell Fionn and Silene when she hasn’t arrived after twenty minutes of waiting.

“Give it more time,” Silene says soothingly. She places her hand on my forearm, quieting my pacing. “She may have meetings or other things going on. You know she wants information on how the meeting went. She’ll come.” Silene leads me over to a couch, and I sit, pulling the letter out and reading it again and again. I search for clues that it’s not what we think but come up empty.

After another hour, Laurel finally appears, looking somewhat disheveled but still glowing with an ethereal beauty I am as drawn to as ever. I stand abruptly and walk to her. “Is everything okay?” I ask.

“Yes, there were just some families who wanted to speak with me from the merchant district. Have you been waiting long?” she asks.

Before I can answer, Silene cuts in. “No, Laurel. Thorne is just on edge today. Don’t mind him.” Laurel stiffens, eyes searching mine. She’s too sharp, too watchful, to keep anything from, even for a moment.

“What happened?” she demands.

I reach for her instinctually but pull back. Lowering my voice, I say, as calmly as I can, “Everything’s okay, but we found something you need to see.”

“Show me then,” she snaps, clearly concerned. I sigh.

“Not here,” I say. “We should go to the northern moors. I can handle the cold. I’m already dressed in two pairs of pants from our travel to Oakton.” I give her what I hope is a reassuring and self-deprecating grin.

She studies me for another moment, then shakes her head. “No, it’s too cold, even for me. Why can you not tell me here? It’s secure and private, if that’s what you’re worried about.” I exchange glances with Silene, which clearly agitates Laurel even more. “Just tell me,” she orders. Silene steps toward her, placing her hand on Laurel’s shoulder.

“I think you should go to the greenhouse with Thorne. Fionn and I will stay here,” Silene says softly. Laurel nods. Before I can prepare myself, I’m squeezed with a familiar pressure, and Laurel and I appear in the greenhouse, still set up with poufs from our Winter Solstice morning.

“Tell me what’s going on before I force you to,” Laurel practically growls, shoulders tense and eyes searching. I pull the letter from my pocket, clutching it tightly.

“When we got to the manor in Oakton, we had some time alone in Krantz’s office. I searched his things. We found several items of note, but this…” I hold up the paper. “This was too important to leave there. We knew you would need to see it with your own eyes.” I hand her the damning letter, heart aching. She snatches it from my hands, her eyes ablaze with annoyance and worry, then looks down. I watch as her expression slowly shifts from the haughty frustration of an impatient Queen to the sorrowful grief of a betrayed friend. Her eyes move furiously across the page, repeatedly, always stopping at the end for several beats before restarting. With each reread, she slumps in on herself, shoulders dropping and back hunching. “The handwriting…” I say slowly. “We weren’t sure…” I trail off, unable to say it aloud.

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