Page 218 of The Nightmare Bride
“Althea left on her own,” I snapped, and goddess, how I hoped that was true. “You know that’s the most likely explanation.”
He grunted—in concession or impatience, who knew.
“And Kyven’s in my room, showering. I locked him in, so there’s no need to get snippy.”
“Fine.” Olivian waved a contemptuous,out-with-ithand. “Then what do you want?”
I lifted my chin and just...dove in. Amryssa couldn’t afford for me to hesitate. “What Iwantis for you to tell me how a piece of Zephyrine ended up in my dagger. And where the rest of her is. And why the nightmares seem to have a vested interest in keeping your daughter safe.”
The seneschal went ashen. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. A falling feather would’ve made more sound.
I chronicled every telltale twitch. Half of what I’d just said had been a stab in the dark, but the raw panic filling his eyes told me I’d hit the mark.
Seven hells, he’dknown. All along, Olivian had understood where Zephyrine was and hadn’t done a thing about it.
No wonder I hated this prick. The goodwill I’d granted him that day in his study dissolved like a sandcastle in the first high wave.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, but his denial arrived much too late. “If the dagger told you that, it’s lying.”
A breath jetted from my nose. So he knew the knife spoke, too. Unbelievable. “The dagger didn’t tell me anything. I figured this out on my own.” Or...Kyven had, really, but I didn’t need to go awarding the prince any gold stars at the moment.
“You’re mistaken.” Olivian’s words sounded like they’d been wrenched from his throat by force.
“I’m not. Clearly. Which means you know how to undo these nightmares, don’t you? How to free Zephyrine.”
I hadn’t thought the seneschal could look any more apoplectic, but he managed. He made a choking sound as his pupils shrank to fevered pinpricks. “You have no idea what you’re asking.”
I sucked at my teeth. “Maybe not, but remember how you said we only got into this bride-swapping mess because you didn’t trust me when you should have? Don’t you think this might be another one of those times?”
He leaned in, making full use of his height. “I absolutely do not.”
I widened my stance, unwilling to back down.
“And if you love my daughter as much as you say, you won’t breathe a word of this. Not to her or anyone else. Do you hear me? Do your job. Protect her. I don’t want to hear of this again.” He bulled past me, his rage so palpable I swore the flocked wallpaper cowered as he passed. Each stomp rattled the glass sconces in their sockets.
Well, then. Ifthatreaction was anything to go by, Amryssa was indeed a part of this. A very large part.
But Olivian clearly wouldn’t give me a damn thing. I’d have to dig up the truth myself. Wrest his secrets from the crumbling woodwork and assemble them on my own.
Where to start? The library, probably. Our only real repository of information. I’d have to hunt through every book, see if I could find mention of the dagger, or the Lady Marche, or any kind of clue.
I was still standing in the hallway, staring out the window, not really seeing the silver wetness sheeting down the pane, when footsteps approached.
I turned to find Merron. Fatigue and wariness dulled his features.
“Hey.” I reached for his elbow, but he stepped back.
“Your Highness,” he said stiffly.
I winced. Well, his avoidance this past month had definitely been intentional. “Yeah, about that. I?—”
“I just need to know one thing,” he said. “That day, when we were together. Did you know? Had you already decided you were going to marry him that same night?”
My mouth went dry. “Merron...”
“Just tell me.” His eyes shimmered, accusation held at bay. “I need to know what that was. If that was why you told me to forget you, afterward.”
A prickle invaded my throat, and I bought a moment’s delay by squeezing my dagger.Zephyrine, help me.
