Belladonna’s lip curls. “I know you’re up to something, you poisonous little toadstool. I don’t deem it coincidence that you were there when my sister died, and last night I just happened to cut an intruder in Lady Anissa’s rooms with my magic. Show me your right side and prove it wasn’t you.”
Protest dies on my lips. If I refuse her, she’ll know for certain it was me. “Would I not still be bleeding if it was me that you’d cut?” The dress I’m wearing is a confection of black silk, with ample amounts of flesh showing. The fabric drapes around my throat, crosses in the front over my breasts, and then flows into my skirts. My lower back and navel are bare and there’s a gold collar around my throat that holds it all together. It took me two maids and a lot of guesswork to get into it.
And some inventive cursing toward Keir.
I tug one of the pieces of material aside, revealing the curve of my right flank. The skin there is pink and tender. “See? No cut. I bumped into the corner of the vanity this morning though, so I daresay I’ll expect a bruise.”
Belladonna traces a clawed fingernail down the phantom remnants of the wound, and I grit my teeth.
If I was free to be myself, I’d punch her in the face, but I’m not.
Sweet, innocent Merisel would never confront a princess of the Blood Court.
She shoves me back, toward the pond. “Your innocent smile doesn’t fool me, you little wretch. I’ve questioned every princess who was at the Court of Dreams that night. Ismena said you were the only one unaccounted for the night my sister died and that you were friends with this Calliope. My sister could kill a fae from a hundred feet away. So how did a single madwoman manage to take her down?”
Another shove, and I feel my heeled slippers take in the edge of the pool.
I shoot the pond a wary look.
The foxfire lights in the blood lilies flicker with frenetic energy. A vine slithers through the water toward me as if it senses my shadow.
If I land in that water, I won’t be coming out again.
“Tell me the truth,” Belladonna snarls. “Look me in the eye and tell me you had nothing to do with my sister’s death. Tell me you didn’t see a chance to thin the competition and whisper Narcissa’s name in your friend’s ear.”
I grab a fistful of her gown. If I’m going in, she’s coming too. “I had nothing to do with her death! Calliope fooled me just as much as she fooled the others! I’ll bet our dearest Ismena forgot to mention what happened the night Calliope tried to kill her? I was the one who saved her. And when Ismena bolted for safety, Calliope tried to shove me in the damned wall too. Does that sound like I was involved?”
“Oh, she mentioned what happened.” Belladonna’s hands capture my wrists. “You came out of nowhere, she said. You appeared as if you’d leapt out of thin air and drove them both to the ground.”
I still.
I’d Sifted and attacked Calliope from behind. Ismena had been so panicked, I’d hoped she’d been confused enough in the rush for her to think I’d run at them.
“I know you were there last night,” Belladonna whispers, pushing me backward until I’m arching over the pond. A hungry tendril reaches for me. “And I know what you can do. It was you last night in Anissa’s rooms, wound or no wound. Admit it.”
I panic as my heel slips on the edge.
The only way out of this is to Sift—which will prove her point.
“If you truly thought me involved,” I try to bluff, “then you wouldn’t be questioning me. You’d have simply pushed me in the pond by now. So what do you truly want from me?”
There’s a moment where we stare at each other.
And I see it in her eyes. I guessed right.
She sets her sharp fingernails to my chest, right over my heart. A sudden pain spears through me, leaving my head spinning.
Suddenly, the pond is the least of the possible dangers here.
“I don’t know how you turned yourself invisible last night.” She leans closer, her lips whispering against my ear. “And I don’t care. Kill my future husband, Merisel, and all is forgiven. Kill him and bring me his heart, and I won’t snap shut the curse I just twined around your heart. But do it soon. Before this fiasco of a wedding ceremony is completed.”
I make it back to my rooms after Belladonna sets me free, the hem of my gown sodden and my heart racing.
An idiot.
I was an idiot.
Slamming the doors to my rooms shut, I cross to the mirror and jerk my gown apart. There’s a bruise mottling my skin, right over my heart. It’s in the shape of a knot of thorns. A blood curse. Fuck. What am I going to do?
I was complacent. I truly didn’t think she could hurt me, not after everyone had seen us very visibly enter the maze together. I allowed the protection of Keir’s claim on me to dull my senses. I’m in the middle of the cursed Blood Court, and I blithely followed its princess somewhere private, assuming she didn’t dare hurt me.
Why would she demand I kill the Lord of Mistmark? I’d tried to protest that I was no killer, but she simply tossed me on the grass and told me to find a way since I was so resourceful.
What in the Wild Hunt is going on here?
If Mistmark dies before the wedding, then there will be no tithe. He’s not a fool—judging from his conversation today he hasn’t handed the horn over to Malechus already, and probably won’t until the wedding is done. No, it will be a deal of some sorts—if
