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“She’s his half-sister. The queen’s first husband was Unseelie—it was an alliance, a political marriage to end the war. After he died, she married a proper Seelie. That’s when she had her daughter.”
“It seems like Lady Rivera really likes to gossip,” I say, taking this all in.
Fiona’s eyes widen with fear again when I badmouth her mistress, and she checks our surroundings again.
“I listen to what she has to say to her friends,” Fiona whispers. “I’ve been here a long time, and you never know what could be useful.”
I nod, understanding exactly what she means. And now I have a person to fit the hole in this picture—I knew people at the Seelie Court were unhappy with Ruskin, but now I know who they’d prefer. A sister, banished. I wonder if it really is just all about power for Ruskin—whether he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else being in charge, or if there’s more to the story.
“Well, your eavesdropping is certainly helping me out now. But what’s his sister got to do with his true name? You think she knew it?”
“No, but when an heir to the throne is chosen, the High King or Queen make it official by putting the heir’s true name on some stone.” She twists her face like she’s trying to remember, brows knitting together. “The…founding stone of the Seelie Court.”
“And I’m willing to bet a lot of money that the royals keep that stone nice and hidden, don’t they?”
“Yes,” Fiona says, but doesn’t look perturbed. In fact, she seems positively excited at the plan forming as she speaks. “But if you find the stone, then you’ll find Ruskin’s true name. That should give you power over him—power to dissolve the deal, to do whatever you like. I’m sure you could just walk straight out of Faerie, and Ruskin couldn’t touch a hair on your head.”
It makes sense, that she would have pondered such things. I cannot imagine how many times she must’ve sat, trapped in this palace, dreaming of ways she could protect herself from Lady Rivera, or find a way back home.
I reach out to clasp her hand. “If I did find it, Fiona, I’d find a way to use it to help you too. Ruskin’s Lady Rivera’s ruler, after all. I could make him order her to set you free, and then you could go home too.”
A light shines out on her face at the idea, and her eyes glisten with unshed tears.
“You’re too kind,” she says. “I hope what I’ve told you will be helpful—maybe for the both of us.”
“Who knows,” I say honestly, but even with my noncommittal answer I feel the sharp edge of my desire to help her and gain my own freedom. I have no idea if I’ll be able to find this stone, but at least one person in this palace knows where it is, and that means the key to my escape is with him, rather than the impossible alchemy he’s asking me to do.
I tell Fiona how to look after her wounds, and remind her to seek me out if things get worse, then I reluctantly leave her. The lights I helped hang earlier are now beginning to set the palace aglow with the glimmer of a thousand tiny stars, and I hurry to my room. Soon these halls will be filled with the fae in their finery, and now I realize I need to be among them.
As I suspected, Destan has left the dress from earlier right there on my four-poster bed.
I shan’t go to the ball, but I do have a prince to find.
Chapter 16
Iasked Kaline to bring a mirror into my room a few days ago so I could comb through my increasingly knotty hair and make sure the illusion on my dress was holding up. Now, I’m not sure if it was such a good idea, because seeing myself in the mirror in this dress—seeing precisely so much of myself—has me second guessing this whole plan. This is a dress for someone brave and bold, and I don’t feel like that person right now. Instead, I’m struck by a wave of shyness—wondering if I can really pull off the same confidence the fae women exude when they wear such revealing clothes.
But I need to get close to Ruskin. I straighten, pushing my shoulders back.
You’re going to wear this thing, and not let it wear you, I tell myself. The reflection in the mirror suddenly looks more the part, and I start to think I can do this. I have to do this. Where before it was Ruskin forcing me to his side, now I need to seek him out. I remember Halima’s words from this morning, about how the harvest moon makes him more impulsive. Maybe if I can find him tonight, then I can get him to slip up, maybe tell me something he doesn’t mean to. If I turn up in this dress, it’ll at least seem like I’m willing to play his game. Surely that will put him in an approachable mood.
And if I can’t get him to drop clues about the stone directly, then I can watch, and listen, like Fiona did. The more used to me he gets, the easier it will be to infiltrate his world, and when he’s almost forgotten I’m there, then I’ll see something I shouldn’t and be one step closer to freedom, for me and my friend.
I certainly feel very free in this gown—almost too much so. I am very aware of the warm air dancing about my legs in a way I’ve never felt before, the front plunging almost all the way down to my navel. I lift up something I made this morning—a chain of gold links with a thin, teardrop shape dangling from it: The rose petal Ruskin gave me. After yesterday, realizing how important it could be to my survival, I wanted to make sure it wouldn’t get lost. So I gilded it, and now fasten it around my neck, where it hangs between the curves of my breasts.
It takes a lot of my courage to step outside the room, but once I’m out in the corridor, I try to forget what I look like and focus on who I need to find. I take hold of the petal between my fingers, bringing my thoughts to a mess of black hair, a strong jawline, and piercing, yellow-green eyes.
A breeze seems to pluck the petal from my fingers and it flutters before me, secured by the chain around my neck, but pulling down the hall. Following its lead, I take a turn to the left, along a corridor I’ve never been down before. The palace seems to darken as I go. Night has fallen, and the faerie lights are few and far between here, but when I cross courtyards and rooms open to the sky, the moonlight is so bright, I almost don’t need them.
The flowers around me change—no longer blousy and bright, they’re darker, more refined. Though elegant in shape, they climb the walls via thick, mean-looking vines littered with thorns. I cannot help but be reminded of Ruskin—beautiful and dangerous.
My gut tells me I’m nearing him when a towering archway looms up ahead, but my way is blocked. Out of nowhere, Halima appears. The petal loses its momentum, dropping back down onto my chest where it hangs there, motionless.
“I thought you were going to the ball?” she asks, eyeing my dress with her favorite neutral expression. I get the impression she was following me to make sure I ended up where I should.
“Nope. Not my thing.” I smile perkily. Something about Halima’s constant stoicism always makes me want to be sunny, just to balance things out—and maybe also annoy her a bit. “I’m looking for Ruskin, actually.”
“Prince Ruskin, and so I gathered.” She looks over her shoulder, confirming to me that this is the way to his rooms. “That’s not a good idea. Not tonight.”
