And being unpredictable herself.
The thought bothers me. Because until this moment, she’s been making all the right moves; her armies at the borders, an offer of peace with Ravenal….
But it’s what Lucere would do. It’s what an untried queen would do.
Somewhere out there, my mother is moving pieces.
It has to be the vision that the Prince of Shadows saw.
“Are you coming?” Thiago calls, mounting his horse.
I told him I wasn’t some precious princess who needed help getting up and down from her mount, and clearly he’s taken me at my word. I gather the reins of the mare that was lent to me and prepare the stirrup—
Feet slap on the cobbles behind me.
Imerys captures my wrist just as I set my foot in the stirrup. “You’re going?”
“It seems to be the best option for all of us. I don’t think your sister is interested in extending the invitation.”
Over her shoulder, I see Lucere pace to the edge of the balcony, looking down on us with a cool expression. Her gaze locks on Imerys.
“Thank you. For saving my life and Gossamer’s.”
“I’m sorry about the books.”
Imerys squeezes my hand. “And speaking of books, I was thinking about what you were asking before. About the relics. Is that what you were truly searching for?”
“Searching for?”
“Oh, please…. I’m not an idiot. You broke into my library and you were searching for something. It wasn’t about the Old Ones, though I think you’re interested in them too.”
The urge to ask dies on the tip of my tongue. I left her books on my bed, for I didn’t feel right about taking them, after everything.
“I owe you my life,” she points out. “If I can help in any way…. I swear I will not tell another soul.”
I have to trust someone. And while my husband and the others would slay any monsters we came across, when it comes to finding information, this is what I need. Someone with knowledge. Someone who has access to information.
“I need to find the Crown of Shadows.”
Suspicion dawns in her eyes. “Why?”
I don’t want to lie to her. “Because I’m tired of living under the yoke of another, and this is the only way I can free myself.”
Imerys nibbles on her lip. “I’ve heard of it, though I don’t know where. Or what. Just…. The name sounds familiar somehow.”
Curse it. It couldn’t be this easy.
“If I find anything, then I’ll send it your way,” she promises.
“Thank you.”
Chapter Fifteen
Thiago sentences me to our chambers for several days, because although there’s no outward sign of damage, my throat remains raw and I have a pressing headache that stabs harder every time I use my magic.
I don’t know if he’s pleased I made such progress—he’s been training me to access my powers for the past three months with little response—but he does insist I rest.
“Maybe I’ve been going about this the wrong way?” he muses. “Maybe you don’t need solitude and meditation to access your magic, but something more pressing.”
I pause, halfway through a bowl of soup. “You’re going to send me into a burning building next training session?”
“No.” There’s a certain sort of wickedness in his eyes. “But I’m sure I can conjure… motivation.”
“Just remember: I can set your britches on fire.”
He snorts as he pushes away from the bed. “Or our sheets.”
“That only happened once!”
“Once is enough,” he says with a wink, as I’m about to throw my buttered roll at him. “Unless you mean that metaphorically, in which case I’m quite happy to volunteer. Get some rest.”
“Did you hear anything about Lysander?”
His face sobers. “The Prince of Shadows sent his hexbreaker. She worked her magic, and Baylor said there’s a little difference, but Lysander’s still trapped in animal form.”
I sigh. More unfortunate news.
“Rest,” Thiago presses. “Curses are twisted things. It will take time to undo, much like your own memories. I’ll see you at the end of the week. I need to check in at the border. With Eris and Baylor out of action, the others sometimes need a little more watching.”
I spend the afternoon lolling in bed, and wake the next day with the need to do something.
With strict instructions that I’m not allowed to light so much as a candle, I head to the drilling yard, where Finn will put me through my paces in Thiago’s absence.
Every woman in the castle lets their eyes linger on Finn. He’s six-and-a-half feet of lithe strength and pure arrogance, with cheekbones that could cut like a knife, eyes the color of an alpine lake, and the kind of smile that makes even my heart skip a beat—even though I’m promised to another. He’s just that pretty. Long dark hair is bound back from his face in braids, and there’s a faint golden tattoo just above the center of his brows in the shape of a flame.
“Can’t rest?” he calls, stringing a bow.
I shake my head ruefully. “Please tell me that’s for me.”
He hands it over, then kicks the quiver up into his hands with some kind of graceful hopping motion that would probably see me flat on my face if I tried to emulate it. “For my lady fair,” he says, handing over an arrow. “It’s been a while since we’ve trained together.”
It’s frustrating to be told you used to do something with someone, only to have no memories of it. “Did we?”
He clucks under his tongue. “How could you forget a male like me?”
“Well, considering I had no idea I was married to Thiago, surely I can be forgiven for not remembering you?”
He sighs. “Unremarkable. Unkissable. Unmemorable. I swear the three of you ladies are trying to give my pride a mortal blow.”
I nock the arrow and face the target set up at the far end of the bailey. “If I thought your sense of pride was in any danger, I’d beg forgiveness, but you seem to be doing an immeasurable job of supporting it.”
“I can’t help that I’m dangerously
