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“But—”
“Things are different for me, Eleanor. I have to stay here. I have to make this life work for me. But you? This thing you’re supposed to do for the prince—whatever it is—means you have a chance to go home. If you just uphold your end of the deal, he’ll release you, right? That doesn’t apply to me and Lady Rivera, and I have to be careful. Things could so easily get a lot worse for me.”
I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say so much in one go. As her words sink in, guilt gnaws at me—and grief too, for the both of us. I miss my father and my friends dreadfully, but how much worse must it be for someone who’s been trapped here for years? Subjected to this kind of treatment with no real hope for a way out. As I finish tying off her bandages, I feel tears coming to my eyes at the thought, but I try to discreetly wipe them away. I don’t want Fiona to think I’m making this about me.
“I wish I could help you, Fiona. More than just putting a patch on things.”
“Don’t worry about me,” she says, though her voice is still weak with pain. She looks around the room, taking in the workshop. “You should be focused on doing what the prince wants, so you can get out of here.”
I sigh, my sorrow loosening my tongue. “But I don’t even know if I can do it. And unless he drops dead sometime soon—which doesn’t seem likely—then I’m stuck working on this project he has for me for as long as it takes. Forever, maybe.” I say aloud the wild thought I’ve been toying with recently, one I know to be reckless. “Part of me wonders if I should just take the risk and give up trying altogether. Take my chances with breaking the deal and whatever magical consequence comes with it.”
She slides off the workbench she’s been sitting on.
“No, Eleanor, you can’t just break the bargain; it’s too risky.” The concern in her voice touches me. Even as she stands there, sliced up at the hands of her mistress, she’s worried about me.
“I know,” I say, giving her a small smile as I squeeze her hand. “Here, let me get you a dress to change into and then we’ll fix that room.”
Fiona is quiet on the way back to Sun Room, and I wonder if the horror of what she’s just been through is catching up with her. In fact, she doesn’t speak again until the blood’s wiped up and we’re arranging the silks for the fae to lounge around on later. I notice she keeps folding and unfolding one blanket in particular, her eyes distant like her thoughts are a million miles away.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
She turns to me with a sudden look of sharp focus on her face.
“What if…” she starts, then stops, looking like she might be about to talk herself out of what she was going to say. But she takes a breath, then forges onwards. “What if there’s another way to end your deal other than fulfilling it or breaking it?”
I blink at her. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve heard there’s more powerful magics even than a contract between human and fae.” She looks around, checking that we’re not being overheard. “I’ve been around here long enough to know that fae have more weaknesses than they let on,” she murmurs.
“Such as?”
She swallows. “Do you know about true names?”
I shrug. I know a little—barely more than scraps of rumors, some of them wildly contradictory. The only thing that everyone seems to agree on is that fae are given monikers like Ruskin Dawnsong and Destan Lionsvale, but that they have secret names given to them at birth.
“They’re magical, aren’t they?” I guess. “If you have a fae’s true name, does that give you some kind of power over them?”
Fiona simply nods, her eyes bright with what I think is adrenaline. She knows telling me this is dangerous for us both.
“But then why haven’t you tried to get yourself out?” I whisper. “Couldn’t you go home, free yourself from Lady Rivera, if you found out her true name?”
“They guard them very carefully,” she says. “Most High Fae never write their true names down. There’s no record of Lady Rivera’s. I know,” she says, with the air of someone who’s tried to find it.
“But you think there might be a record of Ruskin’s?”
“Lady Rivera has talked about it. I’ve heard her. When she’s with her close friends she’s very open, and she doesn’t like Prince Ruskin. She thinks he’s a pretender to the throne, that we should have a fully Seelie ruler. She hates that he banished his sister.”
“He has a sister?”
Fiona nods. “Lady Rivera tells people that his sister should’ve been the heir. But when the High Queen couldn’t rule anymore Prince Ruskin kicked her out.”
“He banished his own sister to keep her from making any claim to the throne?”
“That’s what Lady Rivera says.”
I shake my head, confused by this sudden onslaught of history. I’m glad to be getting some answers, but they only throw up more questions.
“She’s full Seelie? How?”
