Chapter 2
“Celandrine,” I hissed the moment the tall pines’ shadows fell over me, shielding me from the concerned eyes of my husband and troupe. It was dark within this wooded area, high branches blocking out the watery noon sunlight, so I had to squint to make out the shapes.
She wasn’t here, but I knew I saw her lurking in the woods in one of those frothy confections she called a dress.
If she’d had her way, I would have worn one of those, with purely decorative armour at the shoulders and wrists.
I’d have been paraded among the Lucrecian army, as a beacon of shining hope for humans fighting the endless war against our goblin enemies.
Except that war was supposed to have ended with the ceasefire when I married Kier.
I hadn’t asked if it was holding. Part of me didn’t want to know.
But even with new goblin friends, I remembered my single human friend, Adellina, and the smug, boring people I trained with under Celandrine’s guidance.
I also remembered the criminal gang I’d been part of.
I didn’t miss them quite so much. They weren’t like my troupe; they were the type to drive a throwing star into your throat if you looked at them wrong.
“Celandrine?” I hissed again, daring to speak louder.
From the shadows of a sturdy pine, she stepped out, the frilly lilac skirt of her dress dragging along the floor, rows of beads rattling.
Her skin was polished onyx, face utterly cherubic, hair piled elaborately on her head.
She looked exactly the same as I remembered her, with eyes narrowed in maternal disapproval.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded, stalking closer.
I wasn’t her acolyte anymore; I was a princess, and a badass in my own right.
My time in the goblin lands had hardened me, so I wasn’t surprised when her eyes flared with surprise.
“You’re one of the rebels, aren’t you?” A bitter thought made me laugh.
“Is that why you were so kind as to promise me revenge on the man who killed my sister? Guilt, because you were one of the ones who sent her to her death?”
“Man?” Celandrine echoed with slimy distaste, her stare echoing the same disapproval. “Since when have you called the prince anything but a monster?”
I shrugged, fingers brushing the edge of my dagger. “Since I married him. Long story. What are you doing here?”
“So suspicious, Zabaletta,” Celandrine murmured, coming closer and not marking the way I tensed, or maybe not caring that I was ready to fight her.
“Answer my question. Did you know my sister? Were you part of the rebel group that sent her into Kier’s castle to steal the stone of power keeping his little sister alive?”
“In a way,” she replied primly, close enough now that her shadow fell over me, the texture of her skin visible beneath layers of rouge, her eyes sparking with a distinct edge of malice I don’t remember seeing before.
“You Lucrecians, always so angry about everything. So easy to rile. It took no effort at all to convince your sister to enter Bluescale lands. No effort at all to convince you to train under me, either.”
I struck at the same time as Celandrine, but my dagger didn’t even graze her skin, unlike her attack. Piercing pain between my eyes dropped me to my knees so quickly that I couldn’t catch myself.
No. This felt like…
I glared up at Celandrine as she stopped before me, kicking my dagger aside. Heat trickled over my top lip. I tasted copper and blood.
“Not… Celandrine…” I spat, every beat of my heart a sluggish struggle. Agony spiked through my chest like a nail driven through bone, robbing me of air.
“Oh, no sweetie, don’t misunderstand.” Celandrine knelt in front of where I struggled to get back to my feet, digging my fingers into the dirt, grabbing unsuccessfully at the roots of a tree.
“I’ve always been Celandrine, and she’s always been me.
She was a character I created several years ago, when I first started to put my plans into place. ”
“Cleodora,” I spat, vindictively happy when saliva landed on her cheek. This wasn’t my trainer, wasn’t a general in the Lucrecian army. This was the Greenheart queen, the mastermind of a game I was only beginning to grasp. She wanted power and land, wanted to be the queen of all goblins.
“I never expected you to marry the prince,” she said with a trilling laugh, the frilly lilac skirts of her dress brushing my knees. “What an interesting turn of events. Beneficial to me, in the end.”
I ground my teeth to trap a cry when the pain drove deeper, winding like a corkscrew into my skull now. Panic flared—Kier’s, not mine—and relief made my shoulders droop. All I had to do was hold on and he’d find me. I’d be safe.
Or she’d turn me into a weapon against him.
“Next Wednesday, bring Kier to Azurann. I believe your little players troupe passed through the town, so you should be familiar with it. I’ll be waiting at the pond in the town square.”
“Azurann—is under fog,” I croaked, my head bowing under the pressure against the inside of my skull, her command binding into my mind itself.
“I have a safe route in, but thank you for your concern.”
I wanted to spit at her again, but pain rushed through my skull and I moaned, slumping against the ground.
“Next Wednesday at noon,” she ordered, rising to her feet.
She hooked the toe of her shiny black boot under my chin and forced my head back.
I looked into a face of pinched, despicable beauty.
No longer Celandrine, but her true face.
Cleodora, queen of the Greenheart kingdom, complete with her sparkling crown. “See you then, Zaba.”
“Fuck you.” She didn’t get to call me that.
I tried to get up, tried to grab my dagger, but my fingers only twitched. She kept me there until her footsteps had long since faded, and only released me when rough, pounding steps replaced them.
“Zaba?” Kier demanded, dropping beside me and grabbing for my shoulders. “What happened?”
He picked twigs from my hair, skimming his thumb under a graze on my cheek, but they were only superficial wounds. The mess Cleodora had left in my head was a far more imminent threat.
I licked my dry lips and tested my voice. It emerged raw. “I’m fine. I just fell over.”
I wanted to tell him everything, but the queen’s magic compelled me into silence, so all I could do was look at my husband with pleading eyes.
He knew something was wrong, but he didn’t press. He just wrapped both arms around me to help me to my feet and murmured, “Let’s get you home.”
I opened my mouth to tell him, but froze.
If Kier gets even an inkling that something is wrong, I will hunt down everyone you love.
How many more columns of stone would be carved with the names of my friends?
I closed my mouth and said nothing.