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“I couldn’t understand why, and of course, I was ashamed of it. Never had I heard of a fairy who was disgusted by their soulmate.

“I don’t know how the Thief did it, how he managed to scoop out the Green Man’s spirit and insert his own.” She covers her eyes for a moment. “I’ve only ever seen magic like that once before.”

My brows knit. I rest my forearms on my thighs and lean in closer.

“Back when I was young and my parents ruled the Kingdom of Flora, I met a man like you—an enchanter. Lazaret.” Mara breathes his name. “He came to our court as a minstrel, there to entertain my family and the lesser nobility.”

The Flora Queen already told me this story back when I visited her kingdom. Does she remember that, or has her mind withered along with her body?

Her eyes grow distant. “Gods, was he stunning. Golden skin, eyes like emeralds.”

I try not to roll my eyes. Mara might be tragic, but she’s still vapid.

“However, it was my sister,” Mara says, “Thalia, who claimed his heart. I envied her then, to have the attention of such a beautiful man.

“But the longer she was around Lazaret, the weaker she became. She was convinced they were mates, even though it was ridiculous—fairies can sense that sort of magic, and it wasn’t present with my sister or Lazaret. But Thalia wouldn’t be swayed. She pledged her life and her heart to the enchanter … and her power.

“My parents told her to undo what she had done, that her magic belonged to the realm, not some pretty fairy, but she wouldn’t listen to them.

“Even as Thalia weakened, Lazaret was having increasing sway amongst our people. He’d spin songs and mesmerize the audience in ways that were … unnatural.” She sighs out a breath. “And the more familiar he and I became, the more he unsettled me. It was just a conversation that turned awry somewhere along the way, or an inappropriate reaction to a situation.”

My skin pimples. I know too well what she’s talking about.

“But at the time,” she continues, “we were all under his spell. Everyone but my parents, who saw him for what he truly was—athief.”

That word is like a cool breath against my neck.

“They called him into court one spring morning to entertain the nobles. But it was a trap. Before he could so much as open his mouth, the court’s executioner sliced off his head.”

She rubs her eyes. “My sister … she didn’t survive long enough to see the next moon cycle. Her power was hers again, but her heart wasn’t. She took my father’s sword and took her life.”

Mara frowns, her hand curling into a fist. She takes a deep breath. “I was never my sister. I never wielded the same staggering magic she did. I was supposed to marry well and enjoy the fruits of court life. Instead, she died and I inherited the throne.

“I wasn’t powerful, but the land of Flora is kind; when I was most uncertain about my kingdom’s future, it gave me my king.

“I found the Green Man, deep in the Arcane Forest. He was borne of the trees themselves; I saw it with my own eyes, the way the tree trunk’s flesh parted and a fully formed man stepped forth from it.”

Her words remind me of all those bloody soldiers curled up in trees. The Thief must’ve used the Green Man’s power to put them there.

“In that instant, our bond snapped in place. Only the greatest rulers are given this sort of gift from the land itself. The Green Man was strange and magnificent, the way wild things are, but he was no normal fairy. He was a blessing, and he was mine.”

She shudders out a breath. “I loved him. So much.” Her eyes flick to me. “I know you probably question that, but the man you saw—”

“—was the Thief,” I finish for her.

She flinches a little, her wilted flowers shifting in her hair. “How could I have missed it? I ask myself that all the time these days. I don’t have any answers. I thought that perhaps the Green Man’s strangeness was a sign that the earth was calling him home. And when the trees started …rotting… I thought my magic had betrayed me.”

The darkness will betray you, the seer had told Des.

I didn’t know magiccouldbetray its wielder, but I of all people should know better. Des’s magic tricked him into a bargain that kept us apart for seven years.

Magic is sentient.

“I was angry and jaded at my power,” Mara says, “and at the mate who had begun to act odd and distant and spent long hours among my sacred oaks. I should’ve known. There were times when my mate seemed sinister to me.

“And then, when the sleeping women began returning to us in caskets, and we began laying them out in the greenhouses, the Green Man would often visit them. I mistook his fascination for concern, never once guessing he was resp—” her voice breaks, “—responsible.

“And so I buried my jaded emotions in warm bodies and beautiful celebrations. Even as my oaks died and my people went missing and my mate slipped farther from my reach, I pretended everything was fine.