“Sit,” she says.
The only option is to obey.
“No attack.” She slinks behind me as I take a seat at the vanity. “Or nothing beyond the usual. The Prince of Evernight will be there, after all. He craves my downfall.”
Someone’s projecting.
“I thought the Unseelie delegation would be the greater danger?”
Five hundred years ago we defeated them in the Wars of Light and Shadow, but the peace has always been tenuous. This recent treaty between Seelie and Unseelie courts is a relatively new development, and if I were my mother’s daughter, I wouldn’t trust it.
The three witch queens of the Unseelie court are bloodthirsty, vicious, and powerful. If my mother has delusions of grandeur, then they’re nothing compared to the Unseelie, who want to cast us all into chains.
The queen lifts the heavy strands of my hair from my shoulders and runs her jeweled claws through it. “Queen Angharad is still bleeding from that last skirmish, and some say she doesn’t have the full support of her sister queens any more. She’s trying to fight a war on two fronts, so she won’t have the courage to cause trouble for us. Focus on the real danger, Iskvien. Those at your back. Those with a knife to your throat.” Her claws caress my collarbone. “Those who were never meant to rule the earth beneath their feet.”
She’s speaking of the two Seelie princes who forced their way onto the thrones of their own kingdoms. The Seelie kingdoms have been matrilineal for centuries—queens are tied to the lands, and the earth beneath them flourishes from the bond. Any kings that sought to elevate themselves were slowly and mercilessly destroyed. My mother considers Prince Thiago and Prince Kyrian’s claims to be unnatural, and she’s been working on ruining them ever since they proclaimed themselves.
Prince Kyrian never attends the Lammastide rites in person. Mother once mocked him for the loss of the woman he loved, and he swore an oath that if he ever set eyes upon her again, he’d have her head. To uphold the peace, he sends an envoy to the rites in his stead.
So she’s talking of Evernight.
Always Evernight.
My thoughts stray to the forest and the bane. The creature who knew me.
And the Prince of Evernight, who rules the dark kingdom.
“What should I expect?” I’ve never met the prince. These are the first Lammastide rites my mother’s allowed me to attend. “Will the Prince of Evernight avoid us?”
“Unfortunately, not. He considers me responsible for the loss of his wife, and I daresay he’s still determined to have his revenge upon me. In fact, he’s the reason I’m here.”
Here it is. I still, like prey catching scent of a dangerous predator as she moves to the side, considering the array of scents and powders on my vanity.
“What does he have to do with me?”
“You’re not coming home with us tonight, Iskvien,” my mother says, lifting the stopper of my perfume vial and sniffing delicately at the scent within. Her nose wrinkles.
I blink.
“What?”
“The Prince of Evernight agreed to a truce over the territories of Mistmere after that unfortunate clash near the border, but it has come at a price.”
I feel the edges of the world sucking at me. “What price?”
“There are to be hostages, to prove our good faith. His cousin is to be exchanged tonight, for you.”
The jaws of the trap spring shut. I shouldn’t have trusted her sweet smile, her gentle touch.
“You bartered me away? Like a fucking trinket?”
The queen’s eyes narrow. “Watch your tone, daughter.”
Rage fills me, but it’s tempered with the quicksilver flash of fear. All these years I’ve been wary of her temper, but this is…. How do I…?
“It’s only for three months,” she continues, as if I’ve accepted it.
The prince could do anything to me in the space of three months. If he thinks my mother killed his wife, then I daresay I’m to be a proxy for his vengeance.
“Is this punishment?” The words erupt from my mouth. “For failing to kill that bane? It was just a hesitation, Mother. Andraste stole the kill. It won’t happen again.”
“What hesitation?”
Andraste didn’t tell her?
The queen’s face tightens imperceptibly, and her hands come to rest upon my shoulders. The tip of each of her fingers is covered in a silver claw, the points pressing into my collarbone. Thin chains connect them to the gauntlets around her wrist. It’s nothing more than a focus for her powers—not that many know that—but the effect is also eerily threatening.
She doesn’t say a word.
She doesn’t have to.
“Andraste was faster than I,” I say swiftly, to cover my misstep. “I thought she’d told you.”
“The bane is of little consequence.”
I square my shoulders. “Why worry about a ferocious beast when you’re throwing me to the wolves?”
“You are not to be harmed.”
“Of course not. Am I to be his whore instead?”
She arches a brow at my tone. “You are to be his political hostage, Iskvien. Make whatever bargains you need to, to keep yourself safe. But remember…, his cousin will be in my hands.”
And any harm that befalls me will be returned in kind.
“Forgive me, Mother, if such a concept brings me little peace. They say the prince betrayed his queen and murdered her sons. I daresay he’ll not hesitate to consider his cousin to be an acceptable loss if he can strike a blow upon you.”
“You disappoint me, daughter. I offer you an opportunity, and you throw it in my face.”
This is another one of her challenges. Prove yourself, she’s telling me. Show me you have the strength and wit to survive.
“What opportunity?”
“There is a way you could serve your queen while you are there.” My mother unsheathes the dagger at her belt and places it on the vanity in front of me.
Star-forged steel. No trueborn fae can wield the iron that lies on this world, but this knife was forged from the heart of a fallen comet, and its iron came from beyond the stars.
As
