Chapter 13
M ireille reluctantly withdrew her hand from the wisteria tree.
Norcliffe was well enough for the time being, particularly given that the queen was in Rivenwilde, and though the tree gave her comfort, she could not afford to linger.
She turned back to Alder, his tall form limned in the strange moonlight.
He no longer seemed quite so imposing, but she could not say whether that was owing to the dream, or that she knew his secret.
He had ambushed her with the queen’s presence at the ball, but each night, he’d given her the gift of knowing her father was safe, and that Norcliffe still stood. She asked, “You said you have a plan?”
He stepped forward, his dark eyes searching her face. “It will require your cooperation.”
“You want me to agree blindly when the last move you made was to invite my mortal enemy to dance alongside us. I may have agreed to an alliance, but I will not hand you indiscriminate trust.”
His mouth tightened. “Because you believe me a monster out to conquer human lands. Yet you would expect me to trust you when you would do the same as I.”
“The same? I hardly think?—”
He took another step forward. “I would do anything to protect my people.”
Well, he had her there. She folded her hands neatly at her waist. Around them, the garden swayed in an imagined breeze.
There was something calming about the rhythm, though, and Mireille tried to steady herself in its pace.
She said, “You witnessed our encounter, besides that she sent me every night to walk to my death—” Her eyes shot up to meet his.
“She drew me into your chamber, but given the chance, she chose to drive the blade into me.” Not Alder, the prince who she had somehow bound.
“It was not the first time.”
“She sends women into your chambers?”
His expression shifted. “No, that’s—” He shook his head. “She merely taunts me. In my cage.”
“Oh.”
He stepped closer, and she shifted, too, her body reacting as if they were still in a dance. “Not an ally,” he said. “Not a pawn.” His last words were barely above a whisper. “But no victim.”
One corner of her mouth ticked up. She couldn’t help it. “Not a monster, not a conqueror, but not…” The hourglass rose again in her thoughts, and she could not say the words. Alder was trapped. He was bound by the Rive and bound by the queen and her curse. But he was still a fae.
He watched, waiting for her to finish, but when she did not, his shoulders relaxed and he moved to place his hand on either side of her waist.
“And what of this plan?” she asked against his chest, staring at the spot his finger had tapped during his confession.
He released a breath, then turned her with him to walk from beneath the wisteria and down a narrow path.
Ancient stone pillars rose through the greenery, less alive than the ones in the palace, and Mireille wondered if they belonged to her memory or Alder’s.
He said, “The creature that attacked you on that first night was a miscalculation by my sister.”
Mireille tensed, ready to pull away from him, but his next words stopped her short.
“The creatures let loose tonight were a miscalculation by the queen.”
“Miscalculation?”
He kept his eyes forward. “Nisha wanted to be rid of you. She believed I had made the bargain against my will, like the others. That it would prevent the breaking of the Rive.”
Mireille wondered how many times she had been watched unaware, not giving second thought to the many open windows and balconies that could be concealing a small dark mink. “She no longer seems to feel that way.”
Alder’s laugh surprised her. “No, I fear she does not. She’s impulsive, sometimes recklessly so, but after a time, she believed our arrangement could come to benefit her.”
“Has she confessed all this?”
His voice darkened. “She has not. But her schemes are transparent. She cares very little for covering her tracks. And any other fae would not have sent a message merely meant to frighten you off.”
Mireille tried not to think about what the merely meant, but she knew enough of the fae to understand the gravity of her situation.
Alder paused before at a bench beneath a trellis of climbing roses, gesturing for her to sit.
When she did, he settled beside her, the space small and quiet, and shaded from the dreamlight’s glow.
“Nisha’s motives are not difficult to guess.
If I were to marry anyone not from Westrende, the only way to bring down the Rive would be to bring down me. ”
If he married Mireille, his life and his kingdom would be at risk, the same as she. And yet, they were tied by the threat of a ruthless queen. “I still cannot reconcile your choice to invite the queen in. It seems a great deal of risk only to confirm her intentions and mine.”
“That was not why she was invited.” His tone was off, his attention on the moon through the canopy of leaves. “Tonight, once we returned to the ball, I intended to announce our betrothal to the court. She needed to be present. She will remain as guest and as witness.”
Mireille stood abruptly, nearly knocking into him. “I did not agree to this.” In fact, she’d agreed not to agree to the ceremony at all.
He gave her a speaking glance.
“This is your plan? To announce we’ve settled on giving up our kingdoms?
” She paced only steps away, then immediately back.
“You called me your betrothed to the queen. So you invited her to, what, test me first? Before the announcement? To test her?” She resumed her place on the bench.
He did not shift over, only watched as she worked it out.
“Because if we were to marry, I would be forfeiting my right as heir. You think she would no longer have reason to do away with me, that she would simply take Norcliffe and be on her merry way. But Rivenwilde would still be bound and under threat.”
“It is more complicated than that.”
He had no idea. But Mireille did not say so, she could not and still have any chance of coming out of the ordeal alive.
“I need Maeve to believe we intend to go through with the marriage, need her to act. That is what I needed to be certain of—that she will make an attempt before the turn of the moon.” He leaned back. “And when she does, I will be ready for her.”
“So we are to feint, to… pretend a marriage.”
“Right up until the ceremony.”
She watched him for a very long moment. “And I? What do I stand to gain from this?”
His expression was grim. “This is the price for breaking your bargain. Aid in my scheme and you will be free.”
If the queen could be defeated, Mireille could return to Norcliffe. Their kingdoms could be saved. But how was she to believe he could do it?
“What if I do not trust that you can overcome her?” The marshal’s words echoed through Mireille’s mind. The price of breaking a bargain with the fae was always one too costly. No one would give it willingly. It had to be a trick. Escaping could not be so easy.
“That is the price you must pay.”
She blinked. “You planned this from the start.”
“I had considered my options. It could have gone other ways.”
“Indeed,” Mireille whispered. “For I was not even the first princess to agree.”
His expression went hard. She did not care.
She was not the only princess under threat by the queen, she was simply the last who had managed her way into his palace.
There were more, surely, perhaps in the wing with Lord Cadby.
Perhaps many more. It was apparent that her wince did not go unnoticed.
Every moment, the possibility of preserving her kingdom felt further away.
She said, “Then I have no choice at all. The only way to save Norcliffe is to agree to your ruse.”
He leaned closer, voice low. “Had you another choice, would you take it?”
She bit back her initial response, because of course the safety of her kingdom, freedom for herself, and the defeat of the fae queen would be worth it.
But it seemed unlikely that he would see it done.
After all, he hadn’t in all the time he’d spent cursed.
The boundary wall was ancient, just like the Rive.
No one had yet restored it. “I prefer to be told why and how our engagement will force her to act.”
“As I’ve said, I am unable to reveal details. But know that my history with her is long, and you and I are not the only ones with something to lose.”
She drew a shuddering breath. If she could not have his confession, then she would not give him hers. They would merely have to work together, doing all they could do drive the wicked queen off a cliff of her own making.
“Then let us bring her down, once and for all,”—she gave him her gaze— “husband.”