28. Zoey
Zoey
“You can talk,” I say to Katerina, despite the answer clearly being yes.
“When I choose to.” Her eyes are hard, haunted. “And right now, I’m choosing to talk to you.”
“Why?”
“Because Henry needs to die.” Her gaze doesn’t waver, and there’s no trace of hesitation in her tone. “Aerix can make that happen.”
I blink, trying to process her words. It’s not just the intensity of what she’s saying that’s throwing me—it’s the fact that she’s speaking at all.
“What did Henry do to you?” I finally ask.
She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she walks to her dark canopy bed and sits on the edge, her movements deliberate and poised .
“He betrayed us,” she says finally, steady but distant. “You see, Henry, my brother, and I were taken from the mortal realm together. Henry was a family friend for years. He used to come over for dinner, and to study together. But there was always something off about him. I didn’t see it then. Now, I can’t believe I missed it.”
I take a cautious step closer. “What happened when the three of you got to the Night Court?”
Her expression hardens, fury sparking in her eyes. “Henry made sure my brother was sent to the barns.”
My stomach drops.
“Why?”
“Because my brother was competition for the queen’s attention,” she says simply. “I don’t know what Henry said to the queen, and I don’t think I’ll ever know. But one day my brother was here, and the next, he was gone.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say, because what else can I say? If I was in her position, I have no idea what I’d do. All I know is that I wouldn’t be as collected as she seems to be right now.
“You can be more than sorry,” she says sharply. “You can help.”
I nod, although I don’t say yes. Because despite it all, I remember what Henry told me.
The most influential players can often be found in unexpected places. Potential allies, too .
How do I know who’s being truthful and who’s lying around here?
The answer is simple—I don’t know. At least, not yet.
This game has layers, and I can’t just trust what I see on the surface. I have to learn how to keep myself afloat and make my way over to the deep end.
And right now, I have to listen to Katerina to see what I can learn.
“After my brother was gone, Henry turned his attention to me,” she continues, and just like that, her composure cracks. “He told me he’d ensure my brother’s safety, and that he’d speak to the queen on his behalf—if I did things for him.”
The way she says “things” makes my skin crawl. The tension in her voice, the haunted look in her eyes… it’s not hard to piece it together.
I swallow hard. “You mean?—”
“Yes,” she interrupts, cold and clipped. “Exactly what you think. Henry likes having power over me. He likes knowing I’ll do whatever he demands—protect my brother. And the queen and Malakai? They enjoy it. They treat it like a game. A show. They make comments, and they laugh about it, as if our lives are just entertainment for them, at best.”
My chest tightens. “Is that why you stopped speaking? ”
She nods. “If they can’t hear my voice, they can’t twist my words.”
“Do you mean the other humans?” I ask, since surely, Malakai must be able to make her speak. I doubt he would have kept her here for so long if he couldn’t.
Although, who knows? Maybe he enjoys her silence.
“I do,” she confirms. “You shouldn’t trust them. Not any of them.”
“But I can trust you?” I ask.
“You can trust your gut instinct about Henry,” she replies. “So, will you help me? Will you tell Aerix about Henry? Will you lie and say he touched you? Will you make him pay?”
Of course—Katerina doesn’t know that Henry approached me and grabbed me after she left. But she clearly knows him well enough to suspect.
I glance down at my hand, remembering Henry’s fingers digging into my wrist. His threats about Matt. The way he’s been looking at me since the moment I got here—as if he wants to break me.
But what Katerina’s asking is dangerous. Reckless. It’s like taking out a pawn instead of analyzing the entire board.
“What about your brother?” I ask, since that’s the one thing not adding up.
If Henry dies, won’t the queen take it out on someone? And isn’t Katerina’s brother an easy target in the barns?
“I’ve come to accept that I have no way of knowing if my brother’s still alive or not,” she says, so evenly that it gives me chills. “But if Henry dies like Jake did, I’ll know. And, despite everything, at least I’ll have that.”
Her haunted gaze pins me in place, but my thoughts race ahead, weaving through the threads of danger and deceit that entangle us all.
A few hours ago, I might have jumped at the chance to get rid of Henry.
But Isla tried to teach us about chess while we were whittling the pieces, and one of her lessons stands out to me now.
You can’t just focus on the piece directly threatening your king. You have to see the whole board, anticipate every possible countermove, and consider what sacrifices might be necessary ten moves ahead.
I might not have put as much thought into it while we were playing earlier—I was distracted by my own spiraling thoughts—but I’m not just playing with pieces anymore. I’m playing with people.
I can’t afford to play impulsively. Not when lives are on the line.
“I need time to think,” I say carefully, not wanting to lead Katerina in one way or the other .
Something flickers in her eyes—respect, maybe. Or recognition.
“Fair enough,” she finally says. “But when you go back out there, don’t tell anyone that I spoke to you today.”
“Or else what?” I ask, stepping back.
“You’re not getting any more out of me. Not until Henry’s dead.”
She presses her lips together and motions to the door, her message clear.
I’m not going to hear her voice again until I do what she wants.
And for some reason, that puts me more on edge than any of Henry’s threats.
I do more than survive, Aurora’s voice echoes in my mind as I leave Katerina’s room. I thrive.
As I make my way through the halls, my mind maps out the web of alliances and betrayals surrounding me. Henry’s threats, Sophia’s kindness, Katerina’s silence, Victoria’s anger, Aerix’s possessiveness, Aurora’s subtle help, Isla’s surprising sharpness, Elijah’s wisdom—they’re all moves in an endless game where the rules keep changing.
If I want to survive here—no, if I want to thrive —I have to be more than one move ahead, but five.
Ten.
I have to stop reacting and start playing .
I need to be the one making the moves—not the one being moved.
And so, I straighten my spine as I return to the courtyard, my resolve hardening like iron. The fae may think humans are nothing more than pawns, but pawns have potential.
Because pawns can cross the board and become queens.