Page 78 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood
“Such a beautiful face.”
Catreena’s voice startles me out of my thoughts. The new queen stands in the doorway. She sweeps into the room, her fitted black-and-gold dress swishing with every step. Her beauty is unnerving—there’s something doll-like about her perfectly symmetrical face.
“Dry those tears, lovely princess. I have a gift for you.”
“I am not in need of gifts.”
I want to turn my back on her, but her eyes have me captivated. My neck is locked, unable to look away. Eyes I believed to be blue now appear to be gold—mesmerizing. There’s a shimmer to them, like looking into the sun.
“Please reconsider. It’s a peace offering. We got off on the wrong foot yesterday. You seemed displeased with the new arrangement.”
Her words snap me out of the trance.New arrangement? Displeased?
The day my mother passed away, I went missing and died in the woods. No one came to find me. And when I stumbled back to the castle, it was only to discover that my father had decided to remarry a complete stranger. He allowed this woman to sit on my mother’s throne and wear her crown—a woman at least half my mother’s age. She may even be my age.
“You are a stranger who appeared out of nowhere and took my mother’s throne less than a week after she unexpectedly died. Was she even in the ground before you crawled into my father’s bed? I’d guess not. The entire situation disgusts me. Your guards have also been downright cunts, treating me like a prisoner in my own home. With all that said, I’m sure you can understand how the new arrangement has been difficult to swallow.”
I match her false smile with one of my own.
Catreena’s reaction is slight—a twitch in her left eye. The smile on her face remains, but something about it changes. A tenseness forms around her mouth, as if her muscles are fighting to keep it in place.
I was hoping for a more open display of emotion. It always feels better toseehow your words have hit their mark.
I underestimated her.
Now I see she’s a woman impressively skilled in the art of concealing emotion—a trick I never mastered.
It doesn’t matter. She can keep that pretty mask on all she wants. I know when I’ve gotten under someone’s skin.
“I understand completely.”
There’s something about the way she speaks that catches me off guard. The words almost float, moving through the air like ribbons of honey. Each syllable nuzzles against my skin.
“Which is why I’ve brought you a gift.”
Her voice lulls me, leeching the animosity from my bones and replacing it with a warmth that relaxes me in my seat.
“What is it?”
My own voice has softened.
Catreena lays something on the table. “I’m told these were special to you.”
My mouth gapes. “Where did you find this?”
“There’s a tree I’d written off as dead—but lo and behold, I passed by this morning and there was a single fruit hanging from the top branch. I asked the staff, and they told me these were your favorite. Something special you shared with your mother.”
Tears brim in my eyes as I stare down at the golden apple.
How is this possible?
If what Harrow said is true, that tree was tied to my mother and her magic. Does this mean a piece of her soul has remained here?
Reaching out, I run my fingers along its smooth, glossy surface.
“Yes. They were something we both loved. The tree first bloomed the day I was born.”
This one is so shiny I can see my reflection in it. That never happened with the others.
