Page 17 of Fate of the Sun King

“You like it,” she says with an indulgent smile.

“I love it,” I say with my mouth full, a few crumbs spraying out. She laughs warmly and then closes the box, much to my disappointment, which I try not to let show. I watch her every movement as she wraps it up and then holds it out to me.

“You can have them.”

My eyes widen. “Really?”

“Anyone who appreciates them this much should have them all,” she says.

I look around the clearing. I’m not supposed to accept gifts from strangers. I shouldn’t even be talking to her, but I can’t help myself. She seems nice enough, and anyone giving me cake can’t be all bad, right?

“What’s your name?” she asks.

“Lor,” I say without hesitating, and she smiles.

“Well, Lor, they’ll go to waste if you don’t take them. They were intended for my daughter, but I fear I’ll have to make a detour on my return journey, and by the time I get home, these will have dried out. You’d be doing me a favor.”

I find myself nodding, reaching to accept the gift. My fingers close around the slick surface, but the woman doesn’t release the package. I frown at her, tugging on the box, but something has changed. Gone is her kind smile, darkness reflecting in the azure swirl of her eyes.

This was a mistake.

Finally, she frees the box from her grip. It rebounds from our opposing forces, crashing into my chest, where I nearly crush it.

“Oops. Careful,” she says, her tone pitching into condescension. “You don’t want to ruin them.”

But she’s smiling again, and it’s warm and comforting. I must have imagined what just happened. I was up too late last night reading under my blanket with a lantern, and my mind is playing tricks on me.

“Thank you,” I say and take a step back. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, don’t leave yet,” the woman says. “Won’t you join me for a minute longer?”

She pats the spot on the log next to her and gives me another enchanting smile, but I’m sure I’m no longer imagining the vicious gleam reflecting in her eyes.

“No, I should really get back.”

I take another step, searching the edges of the clearing, listening for the sounds of Tristan’s approach. Where is he? Why hasn’t he found me when I actually need him?

“I insist,” says the woman. “I gave you those lovely treats. It’s the least you can do.”

“No,” I say again, shaking my head, fear pricking up the back of my neck. “No, I have to go.”

Then I turn on my heel and run, the box of cakes tumbling from my hands before I plunge into the trees.

But she’s already pursuing me.

With her longer strides, she catches up easily, snagging the back of my tunic so hard I hear the stitches pop before she bands an arm around my waist.

“Not so fast, little one,” she snarls in my ear. “I know who you are. What you are.”

I kick and flail. I need to get away.

“You’re coming with me,” she says, her voice rough, devoid of her earlier kindness, as she turns and heads back towards her camp.

“Tris—!” I scream as a strong hand clamps over my mouth, muffling my terror.

“There will be none of that, little one.”

I continue bucking and fighting, but she’s so much stronger. I have to do something.