“You don’t know what you’re talking about. It wasn’t my fault.”
“It never is, is it?” The tone of her voice feels like a slap. I crumple a fistful of blanket. “You craft curses, but the effects aren’t your responsibility. You come up with some half-baked plan to depose the Briar King, and it’s our future queen who winds up nearly dead.”
“That was an accident! I would never—”
“I know you wouldn’t,” Laurel interrupts. Her expression softens. “But I also know this situation was entirely out of our depth.”
“What does that mean? You regret allying with us?”
“We had no chance of winning. I knew that from the start. I should have gone to Endlewild right away and—”
“Endlewild?” Something slithers between my ribs. She’s never used his name like that before, without the honorific. And she wouldn’t. As full-blooded Fae, he ranks far above the Graces.
“Yes. I told you we’ve been speaking of late.”
But I can tell from the way she picks at the end of her braid that it’s been longer than that. “When was the first time?”
“After I Bloomed.” She straightens her sleeves. “And then at parties.”
“Liar.” The black silk of my magic ripples. “Tell me the truth.”
Fear simmers stark ocher in her gaze. Good.
“I did meet him after I Bloomed.” Her fingers knot and unknot. I’ve never seen her so restless. “Alyce, you have to understand that—”
“Just tell me.”
She paces. Halts. “On the night of my Blooming Ceremony, Endlewild asked me to report on your actions. I was placed in Lavender House specifically to watch you.”
For a moment, there is only the sound of the bells pealing outside. The soft ticking of the clock on the dressing table.
“And you agreed? You…spied on me?”
“I was afraid of you,” she rushes on. “Everyone was. In the nursery, you were the subject of nightmares and horror stories. And then I was placed in your house? I was terrified, Alyce.”
Unwelcome tears graze the back of my throat. “All those years—you were telling him everything about me.”
Bits of memory, like shards of glass, begin to fly together. My missing gold. The king’s servants sneaking into my Lair without leaving a trace. Laurel appearing in my Lair in the dead of night—she never did tell me what she was doing “visiting” me. Now I know. She didn’t think I was alone. She thought the Lair was empty. She’d been breaking in. Poking her nose in my affairs. She’s the one who stole my gold. Who told the Briar King what I was planning to do. This is why Endlewild stopped coming to check on me after I started working for Lavender House. He didn’t need to. Laurel did it for him.
“It wasn’t easy,” she says. “Not after I got to know you. You’re not a monster. And I meant what I said before. You and Lord Endlewild would be so much stronger together.”
“Get out.” I can hardly breathe around my rage. Around the magic that swells and hums inside me, desperate for an outlet. “Leave us.”
“Alyce.” She edges toward the bed. “You can’t think this is going to end in your favor. The curse is different this time.”
On instinct, I move closer to Aurora, blocking the path to her body. “Why?”
She presses her lips together, as if debating whether to answer, but then goes on. “Because when the princess wakes, she will not remember you. Not as you are.”
I glance at Aurora. The smoothness of her forehead. The untroubled lines of her mouth. “What does that mean?”
“When we softened the curse”—Laurel speaks to me as though I’m a frightened animal, each word deliberate—“we made sure that when the princess thinks of you, she will know you only as a Vila. As a threat.”
“You can’t do that. It’s dark magic—to tear us apart.”
But Kal’s words in the tower come back to me. “The Vila have a terrible reputation for lies and trickery, but the Etherians are just as wicked. They only mask it better…”
“You know that my gift is wisdom. With my elixirs, I can shape the knowledge in another’s mind. Help them make decisions.” She swallows. “And with Endlewild’s help, I reached into Aurora’s memory and changed it.”
“That is not your gift,” I insist. “That is evil. You cannot have done this to us.”
She lowers her gaze. “It is not evil, Alyce, if it was done for a greater good.”
“What greater good?” I shout at her. “Keeping the princess away from someone like me? A mongrel?”
“No. I don’t see you that way.” She reaches for me but I slap her away.
“Then why did you do it?” I laugh, but it is a haunting, caustic sound. “Because you’re Endlewild’s special little pet? Because you hate me? Please, explain the price of your betrayal. I want to know what you’re worth.”
She recoils.
“You know how I feel about the Grace Laws. How determined I am to reform them.”
“What of them? Aurora already made your precious blood oath. She will do whatever is necessary—”
“The princess is a human. And human promises are fickle, brittle things, easily broken, easily forgotten.”
Endlewild’s words if I ever heard them.
“You don’t trust her? After everything we’ve done. After everything she did—”
“She is one person, Alyce!” At last, that veneer of stoic calm cracks. “And her hold over Briar is not secure. She was irresponsible, going to the black tower alone. Relying on only a few people when she should have united a realm. She has no idea how to lead.”
“And you do?” I fling back. “Endlewild does?”
“Yes,” she hisses. “He’s witnessed queen after queen sit on the throne. And he’s tired of the greed and the corruption—as tired as I am.” She pauses. Takes several breaths. “It turns out that Lord Endlewild’s sporadic absences from court have been trips to Etheria. He’s been negotiating with the High King of the Fae to intervene on behalf of the Graces. To stop the humans from enslaving us. The Fae will unseat Tarkin and uphold the queen’s reign. And we will have everything
