Page 132 of A Cursed Son

“I don’t know what they are, or how dangerous. Marlak is going to help.”

She bites her lip. “It should be easy for him. I guess that’s where the name of the court comes from.”

“There’s so much we don’t know about the fae.”

We get to the bottom of the stairs and Ziven joins us, standing beside it. “Astra,” he says. “It’s not true what Tarlia said, that I am interested in you. I’m your friend.”

“I know.” I point at her. “She has quite an imagination. I’m sure you just wanted to do the right thing.”

Tarlia rolls her eyes. “Oh yes, I’m so confused. Apologies.”

Ziven glares at her. “Maybe you’re the one in love with Astra.”

She chuckles. “If I liked girls, I would. Look at her and tell me she isn’t the prettiest woman in this coronation.”

Tarlia is baiting him, I know it. Is she hoping he’ll say that she is the prettiest? Or thinking he’ll agree with her?

Ziven raises one shoulder. “That will depend on one’s taste.”

He glances at me, and we exchange a smile. I think we both agree Tarlia’s assessment is absurd.

“I’m glad you’re both here,” I say, trying to end that subject.

Then, from the corner of my eye, I notice Crisine looking at us. Crisine, her hair silver and brilliant, her skin and eyes light brown. I think her expression is mild curiosity, but I can’t be sure from this distance.

“Oh, so that’s the one.” Tarlia is using a mocking tone, and I’m not sure why. “The reason you won’t get kisses from your fiery husband.”

“Stop it.” I glare at her and discreetly point at Ziven.

She chuckles. “My dear cousin here heard everything, Astra. No need to be shy.” In a lower voice, she asks, “You really think your prince loves her?” Her nose crinkles.

“I don’t know.”

Tarlia opens her mouth, closes it, and points behind me.

Crisine is standing there. “Apologies for disturbing you.”

Her voice is soft and melodic, the kind of voice I’d love to hear reading for me, but I recall Marlak’s vision and how her voice was different, harsher in it.

I blink. “It’s fine. Do you need anything?”

She looks down at her hands clasped together, then back at me. “I only need a minute. To talk to you alone.”

I don’t trust her. Her meek, even nervous posture makes her seem harmless, but I have an awful feeling about this. That said, Marlak spent years in a relationship with her, so she can’t be a monster.

Tarlia answers before I have time to say anything. “You can talk here.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Crisine says, her tone flat.

Tarlia smirks, her posture and expression the perfect haughty noble. “I’m the Krastel princess and I’m talking to you.”

Crisine turns to me. “I only need one minute. Please. It’s important.”

“Astra, don’t,” Tarlia says, and I wonder if she’s worried about me or upset she’s being ignored.

Shit. If I don’t hear what Crisine has to say, I’ll keep wondering forever, regretting I didn’t take this opportunity to learn more about Marlak. But I don’t trust this Spider Princess.

“One minute?” I ask.