Page 25

ALISTAIR

I watch my bride’s retreating back, her maid having shown up just at that moment to summon her to a dress fitting. The black cat that’s been shadowing me pads out from hiding and winds between my ankles before heading toward the open balcony. I follow it.

Instead of the black cat, an ageless woman with silvery hair in a thick braid down to her waist perches on the balustrade. Her black boots swing girlishly, kicking up the hem of her drab gray dress.

“Careful, Maxine. It’s a four-story drop.”

She throws her head back and laughs. To my horror, she twists to one side and swings her feet onto the stone ledge, rising easily to stand on it. Suspiciously spry for a woman of her age. The witch isn’t at all what I expected from Elinor’s description.

“I am not afraid of a little fall.” She skips from one end of the curved balcony railing to the other.

Abruptly, she misses a step, wobbles, and tumbles over the ledge.

I rush to balustrade and peer over it, expecting to see her prone form laid out below.

Instead, a gray sparrow flies straight at me, circling my head twice. Instinctively, I bat it away.

“Hahaha, see, princeling?” The bird disintegrates in a puff of feathers and Maxine is back, her backside again resting on the stone, her legs swinging casually. The smug grin on her face tells me astonishment must be written all over mine. I quickly school my features into a glower.

“Nice parlor trick.”

She tosses her braid back over one shoulder, seemingly miffed that I’m not more awed. The truth is, Belterre hasn’t seen that kind of magic in generations. Over a century. Maxine wielded it like it was nothing. Clearly, she is no ordinary witch.

“It’s no trick, princeling. I can become anything or anyone I want. Even you.” Her features melt disturbingly and reform in my own likeness.

“Handsome,” I deadpan, concealing my uneasiness. The witch is the obvious solution to my predicament.

At what price?

Don’t lie to me again, Alistair. Elinor’s warning echoes in my mind. Maxine’s offer to trick Elinor into believing her stepfather is alive and well would be the ultimate lie.

But it’s so very tempting.

“She’ll never know the difference,” Maxine vows. I narrow my eyes at her.

“What are you?”

“A princess.” She lays one palm atop the other and places them below her chin, batting her eyes at me. “Nay, a queen.” Dropping the act, she reaches out to prod me in the chest. “I’m a witch, you fool. What does it look like?”

“If you can appear like any creature, then how do I know I’m dealing with an old woman and not, for example, a cunning dragon in disguise?”

She cackles at that.

“I am a witch,” she says. “The last fae witch in Belterre. I was abandoned by my people when they ascended to the sky to escape being hunted by humans. Banished, if I’m being honest.” Her voice deepens with each word, turning masculine.

Her shape elongates and broadens. She can shapeshift quickly or slowly, it seems, depending upon the effect she wishes to create.

“They left me here thinking I would be hunted by humans, but I have evaded discovery for a hundred years, and now, I am ready to return to my home.”

I confess I am utterly unnerved by this strange woman. I know better than to show weakness—my father trained me well—yet I cannot completely conceal my shudder when Tremaine materializes in her place. Facing down the man you beat to death is a peculiar feeling.

“I can appear at your wedding in a few hours,” Maxine says as…

he or she?... hops off the balustrade and strides forward.

She even has his gait nailed. The slight tremble in his hand from years of too much drinking.

A waft of alcohol breath prompts my nose to wrinkle in distaste, beyond any ability to control my own reaction. Maxine is delighted by this.

“See? A perfect resemblance.” She melts back into her true form, though if I could compare the woman before me now with the one who fell off the balcony a few minutes ago, I would swear she looks younger now. As if she’s aging in reverse.

“What is your price?”

She grabs my cravat and yanks my face down to hers. “Tell me the location of the fae castle. I know you found it, princeling.”

Hairs prickle on the back of my neck. She releases me suddenly. I stumble back a step and choke out, “It’s mine.”

“Elinor wants you to share the knowledge. Don’t blame your beloved for tattling, princeling. The sweet girl never knew she was talking to me when she blabbed to her feathered friends. She loves talking to the little beasties and birdies, don’tcha know.”

I could do it. Take the witch up to the tower.

Show her the maps of the sky and how to find the cloud formation.

But then my private secret wouldn’t be mine anymore.

Knowledge of the fae’s hiding place could be a potent weapon in the event of a conflict.

Right now, we are at peace, but there is no guarantee that will continue.

Not with Briar’s awakening and the prophesied fall of Isanthia.

“No.” I turn on my heel, intending to end this conversation and come clean with Elinor, but Maxine whips in front of me and changes form once again.

This time, she is Tremaine as I left him in his cell—head bashed in, missing teeth, both eyes blackened, blood dribbling from his nose. I recoil.

I did that to him. I’d do it all over again, but gods damn everything, if Elinor finds out…

“I could show up like this,” Maxine grins evilly with Tremaine’s ruined face. The witch has me over a barrel. She wants that location badly enough to blackmail me.

“You have played your hand well,” I grit out.

“I’ve only had a hundred years to plot my revenge,” she says, snapping back to her true form, looking almost youthful this time.

Her silver hair has darkened slightly, her lips are plump and pink, her cheeks subtly smoother.

“I was the one who cursed your first bride, princeling. It was I who sent monsters to protect her, although she didn’t see it that way.

I cursed your great-great-great-grandmother for ruining my plans.

She poisoned Briar, so I made her death contingent upon Briar’s awakening.

A fitting revenge for thwarting my plans, don’t you think?

” She chuckles and prods me in the sternum.

“I can do worse to you. I won’t hesitate. ”

I believe her.

“Fine,” I grit out. “I will show you the castle. But I warn you, no bird can fly high enough to reach it. You remain earthbound.”

“I have left nothing to chance, princeling. Rest assured, I have a plan for that, too.” She grins, revealing perfect, white teeth, with sharply pointed canines. There’s a feral look about her.

I recognize a bad bargain when I’m making one, but I would rather spare Elinor the pain of knowing what I did to her stepfather.

I promise this will be my last lie. From now on, nothing but the truth will fall from my lips when she is the only one who can hear me.

Lies and half-truths must play a part in statecraft, but in the intimacy of my private life with Elinor, I must learn to speak a new language.

Starting this afternoon.

One last lie to tie her to me forever.

“Do we have a deal?” she prompts.

Sun beats down on the crown of my head. Time is slipping away. Wordlessly, I nod.

I’m going to regret this. I’m counting on Elinor’s forgiving nature. Once we’re married, she’ll come around. I just need this one final deceit to last a few hours. Until she’s mine. Forever.

“Sign this.” She points to a scroll of parchment, upon which scrawling lines appear. I read the agreement silently and find no trickery. I show her the location of the castle. She pretends to be Tremaine for the duration of my wedding. Our bargain is then complete.

“Well?” She opens her palm. An inkpot appears in the center. She offers me a quill. I dip and sign the first A of my name in bright-red ink.

Blood.

I lift the quill, hesitating. “I have an addendum. I need you to do something for Elinor.”

Maxine arches one brow suspiciously. I write my request in blood ink and show it to her for approval. She points. Her name scrawls across the bottom.

“Fae bargains are binding, Alistair. Now sign.”

I sign the rest of my name and underscore it for good measure.

“It is done.” The scroll poofs out of existence in a shimmering cloud.

“I shall meet you at noon in the chapel. You’d best go and greet your friend.

The dragon and his bride should be arriving any minute.

I told you I had planned for everything.

” She smirks. “I wasn’t going to let your messenger be devoured by fae beasties.

Whether you can reconcile with your onetime knight is up to you. ”

Killian .

I won’t squander an opportunity to mend fences with the one friend I’ve ever had. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to claim Elinor. If he felt a fraction of this obsession toward Briar, no wonder he betrayed me. I’d have done the same without batting an eye.

I rush from the balcony into the cool castle interior. Glancing back over my shoulder, I see a skinny black cat sitting in the sunlight, watching me. I would swear that feline is smiling.