Chapter Forty Ayleth #2
“Consider what the witches did to the Dwarves,” I say. “Their Mines are all but demolished. And then there are our own losses. We cannot afford to offer the covens our sympathy. Or our trust.”
“We can.” This time, it’s Gavin who speaks. I should have set Nox on him at the hunt. “Malum has plagued this realm long enough. If there’s a way to contain it, we should seek whatever assistance we can get.”
Yet more of the court is beginning to agree, nodding their heads or shouting out their approval.
I can feel the threads of this situation slipping out of my hands.
Anger smolders in my chest. How has Jacquetta, in mere minutes, managed to sway this fickle court to her side?
It took me years to establish my place and she will snatch it out from under me. I will not let her.
Shadows leap and dive around me. An idea cobbles itself together in my mind: But no, not mine. Shade’s. If Jacquetta is so keen to summon the Heirs, then that’s what we’ll do.
“Fine,” I say, raising my voice to be heard. “We will arrange this meeting. But not to ally with the witches. To capture them.”
All attention pivots in my direction, Jacquetta’s as well.
“Capture?” she repeats, her brow furrowed.
“You admit to being a witch,” I say simply. “You could be casting a spell, even now. Or luring us into a trap.”
The way she lured me.
“I’m not—”
“Then prove it,” I say. “Take us to the others. We capture them, bring them back to the palace, and then they can convince us of their intentions.”
As I hoped, the fickleness of the court works in my favor. The idea instantly begins to take root. Courtiers nod along, their bloodlust ignited.
“Such a plan would grant us the upper hand,” Warbeck muses.
“No,” Gavin objects. “We shouldn’t—”
“Quiet, boy,” his father barks, nudging him hard with his elbow.
“I might agree with you, Warbeck,” Margaret adds, considering Jacquetta. “After all, should we arrest the witches, we can use them as part of the Justice trial.”
“Use us?” Jacquetta snaps, aghast. “You said I—we—would be safe.”
And she should have known better than to trust Margaret.
“You will be,” I say. “So long as you comply with our demands.”
Jacquetta looks to me. She is seething, her blue eyes like daggers.
“And if I refuse?” she asks.
I smile at her, spreading my shadows around me like wings.
“Then you will remain our prisoner. And will be treated as such.”
And this time, I say with my eyes, I will not hesitate.
I will throw her into the pyre myself.
—
I remain long enough to watch as they haul Jacquetta away to wherever they’ll be keeping her.
The dungeons again? I don’t care. Let her rot.
She brought this on herself. I stalk through the halls and back to my chambers, intent on summoning Shade.
Forming our plan to seize the rest of the witches’ power, which is what I should have done as soon as Jacquetta set foot in the palace.
Yes, that deep instinct urges. Take what is yours.
But when I return to my rooms, I find I’m not alone. Blodwyn is waiting, fury rolling off of her in waves. Nettle sits beside the princess, her tail twitching and I could swear that even she is glaring at me.
“How could you do that?” Blodwyn demands.
Nettle trills, as if to second the question.
“You don’t understand. Jacquetta—”
“Was helping us,” the princess interrupts. “She devised a way for us to work with the covens. Exposed herself to do it. That couldn’t have been easy for her.”
“And what do you know about it?” I challenge. “Were you involved? Perhaps you arranged her little audience with your aunt?”
She balks. “I didn’t. But maybe I should have. Jacquetta risked everything to try to establish peace and you—”
A hollow laugh climbs up my throat. “You think she wants peace? Where was this peace years ago? Jacquetta is acting on her own plans. She always is.”
“And what of your plans?” Blodwyn throws back at me. “You said that you wanted an honest way forward. Now you’re forcing Jacquetta to lie and scheme just so you can win a senseless war? One fought over—what was it, differing ideas?”
Nettle flicks her tail at me, reproachful. I ignore her.
“I do want to win the war,” I go on. “Because Jacquetta, along with all the other witches, used and discarded me. All they want is to take away my power so that they can keep their own.”
“Power,” Blodwyn spits the word. “Is that all anyone cares about?”
“Yes!” I all but shout. Malum kicks up behind my sternum, the shadows of the room swelling.
“Power is the only thing that matters, Blodwyn. Surely you’ve seen that by now.
You have your pretty ideals of what the world should be, but that’s all they are—imaginings.
And you don’t understand what my life was like before I came here.
I will not be going back there. Not for Jacquetta or anyone else. ”
As soon as the words leave my lips, I know they’re a mistake. Blodwyn looks at me like she’s never seen me before.
“So you’re just going to throw her away,” she says, the shock on her face hardening to anger. “For a crown? Is that what you’ll do to me, too?”
Silence hums between us. I tell myself to take it back. Salvage whatever is left between us. But the words simply don’t come. Blodwyn reads the truth on my face.
“I see,” she says. “Well at least now I know what you really are.”
“Wait…” I call.
But it’s too late. The princess storms off, slamming the door behind her. Nettle meows at me, her golden eyes filled with disappointment.
And I have never felt more like a monster.