Mold clung to the air.
I would have gladly taken the scent of a pickle over this.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
ASHLYN
Iwaited for hours in my chambers—to hear the plan from Fyn. Waiting was excruciating.
A forceful knock sounded at the door. “Princess Ashlyn.” Lord Remus’s voice carried into my chambers.
“You may open the door.” I rose from the sofa, clasping my shaking hands in front of me. He knew what I brought with me.
He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, standing in the doorway like crossing would cost him everything.
“You may enter,” I said.
“You have been summoned to the council room.” He looked past me.
“May I ask what this is in regard to?”
“King Harlan will discuss the nature of your meeting when you arrive, Your Highness.”
“Lord Fyn and Lord Vaden, will they be present as well?” I peered down the empty hall.
The guard fell in step beside my chaperone.
“Everyone who needs to be present will be there,” Lord Remus said.
That wasn’t reassuring. “Very well, then.”
Every truth he uttered somehow was more threatening than the way Eva lied—the way Soren did.
I didn’t dare ask where Fyn was. If he wasn’t in the king’s study, maybe he would be crafting the plan. He didn’t need me drawing attention to it.
With every step further into the center of the palace, I reminded myself I only had hours more to endure. Then this all would be nothing more than an awful memory that I would tell Aelira and Cora about.
We’d sip tea, we’d laugh—and the fae would go back to staring at me like I’d never belong, but maybe none of that would matter, because I would be free.
The door to the king’s study had already been pried back. An overwhelming silence flooded the hall.
Lord Remus followed behind me as I entered.
Fyn wasn’t there. Vaden wasn’t either.
“You sent for me, Your Majesty?” My pulse quickened faster than I could say the words.
King Harlan gestured to an empty chair. The knot in my stomach tightened as I sat beside Soren.
“It seems you have not been honest with me.” He slid my leather satchel across the table.
The glass vials jostled inside.
Soren grabbed the satchel and tugged at the closure until the leather loop snapped. He reached in and pulled out a vial and rolled it back across the table.
The king tilted the vial, until the purple liquid flowed. I thought I was going to be sick from watching them all stare at it.
“Why would a princess be carrying a fae tincture to keep herself from being with child?” King Harlan asked.
