Page 148 of Promise of Darkness
“Indeed,” the queen mocks, “I think I’m starting to remember a little rumor I once heard on the wind. Prince Thiago of Evernight has a cousin who was born a bastard of the sea, does he not? The girl could sing, or so it was said, until she made a pact with a mad witch who stole the power in her voice. And she never goes anywhere without her cousin. Grimsby, tell me…. Those two warriors you threw in the dungeon. Is one of them covered in tattoos?”
“I-I couldn’t say, my queen,” calls a lord to the right.
“Then find out.” Blaedwyn snarls.
A brief glimpse shows the sword, resting against the arm of the throne. Sweat drips down my spine. It’s now or never. I can’t afford for her to discover who her prisoners are.
I gather my muscles, prepared to grab for it, when a sudden cry goes through the room.
“My queen,” yells a loud voice. “I have found an intruder!”
Blaedwyn lowers the goblet from her lips. All across the room, heads turn, and the crowd parts.
My outstretched hand freezes.
Eris is forced forward, her hands clasped behind her head and her eyes glittering with rage. A fae male wearing the same black robe and silver mask she disguised herself with, prods her forward with a sword to her spine. One of his irises is black, and the other a pearlescent silver that makes me queasy.
“This woman wears the bloodstained rags of my brethren,” the fae declares, his mismatched eyes locking on Blaedwyn. “Though she’s not of my clan.”
“Bloodstained rags,” Blaedwyn muses. “An intruder, by the look of it. A thief. Or is she here to rescue her prince?”
The crowd gasps.
It’s not the distraction I was hoping for—curse Eris—but the Unseelie queen has her back to me, and her sword is but an inch away from me.
Time to set the plan in motion.
“But who would rescue Thiago?” Blaedwyn mocks. “Oh, look at those black, soulless eyes.Yes. I’ve heard of you too, Devourer. I’ve long itched to match my sword against your own. They say you cannot be beaten by battle, yet here you stand, bested by the lowest of my guard.”
Eris stands still, her eyes locked on the queen, and I know she’s deliberately ignoring what I’m doing. “Do you consider me bested?” she asks, cocking her head. “What if this was the plan, in order to get close to you?”
I’ve almost missed hearing the disdain in that voice.
“Then you’re a fool,” Blaedwyn tells her.
She’s only three feet in front of me.
I crouch by the side of the throne, hoping no one in the crowd spots me. Eris is putting on a good show though, and there’s no outcry.
“I think that sword’s warped your brain,” Eris says with a faint shrug. She slowly lowers her hands. “I wonder, can you be beaten in battle without it?”
“You’ll never find out,” the queen promises.
“Won’t I?” There’s a sense of satisfaction in Eris’s voice as I make my move.
Lunging forward, I grab Blaedwyn and yank her back against me, holding a knife to her throat. “Don’t move.”
A collective gasp rolls around the room.
Blaedwyn freezes.
“I’m not having a good month,” I whisper in her ear. “I suggest you answer my questions. Or I’ll cut your throat with star-forged steel. Where are you keeping the prince and his man?”
“Oh my,” she whispers back. “Another little mouse, rustling in the shadows. What a treacherous plot I’ve discovered.”
“The prince,” I growl, letting her feel the sharp edge of the knife.
“The dungeons,” Blaedwyn replies. “Where else would I keep the Royal Prick?”
