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“Yes. Uhm. One of the Bánánach was supposed to meet me here, I believe. Have you seen Lord White Throat?”

I liked her flustered. It was a good shade on her. I had not met Lord White Throat, but it was interesting that she thought that the spider message was from him. I made a note to ask the three about him. Perhaps we could find out exactly what Oaken Rose was up to.

“I have not. And aside from myself and your betrothed, no one else has been in the throne room today.”

A twinkle of venom sparkled in her cornflower-blue eyes. She didn’t like that I had mentioned him so casually, and she had forgotten to mask her distaste for it. Very interesting. Why exactly would the betrothed of my erstwhile suitor dislike me acknowledging her claim on him?

She was being sloppy today. Or I had stopped thinking like a human and started thinking like a Fae. Either way, it was a blessing I would not turn down.

“No one else at all?”

“No, my lady.”

She deflated as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders and cast me a glance. “I know I still owe you an exit. I’m still working on it.”

She played the opening hand, and I intended on winning this round.

I watched her, letting her squirm under my regard. I thought of all the ways I could flay her alive. Even if I did it with an iron blade. I would enjoy it. I would savor every scream. And I let the twisting disdain and murderous sentiments leak through to my face.

“Working on it? It has been months, my Lady Oaken Rose.”

My tone was passive, letting nothing but the harrowing play out in my regard.

She attempted to collect herself, suddenly realizing that the beaten, broken girl she had met in the garden was not the same who stood before her. The realization dawned in the sky of her face as clearly as the sun in the sky of Magh Meall.

“Patience. I know it is not a virtue that humans are known for, but you have hundreds of thousands of years to live here in the palace. I am oath-sworn to show you and your hand chosen comrades a way out of the palace. And I will. In time.” Cunning, dull as a butter knife, glittered in her eyes. She thought she held the upper hand here.

“Funny things, those oaths. Aren’t they.” I tilted my head, watching her like a hawk observing a mouse with a broken leg.

“How so?”

I smiled, mania leaking into the corners of my lips. “Well, its just that there we were swearing our respective parts, and you know I thought about it and like you said I have hundreds maybe even thousands of years to live in this palace. And there you are, sending me little notes telling me you’re working on it. At least for a little while. Did you get distracted?”

The shift in my tone had her on her back foot. Goose sat at my side, glaring at her. I didn’t bother to look down at him, I knew my enemies were his enemies, and what Goose considered his enemy rarely stayed alive for long.

“Where did you get a failinis?”

Worry was creeping into the edges of her carefully controlled voice as she watched Goose.

“You must have gotten distracted if a simple dog can distract you from this.” I pulled out the dagger I had stolen from one of the passing guards, who was too engrossed in flirting with a pretty young Fae to notice the lifting of his blade.

Her eyes flicked up to me, and I smiled. “See, the way I figure it, my Lady Oaken Rose, you’re right. You have my entire life span to fulfill that oath. But what happens to you if I’m no longer alive and you haven’t fulfilled your oath? The life of a daoire, especially one directly under your lover, sorry, brother’s hand, is harsh and fraught with danger. Any Fae could slip in and plunge a dagger into her back.”

Her eyes narrowed on the knife I pressed to my throat. “Humans have an aversion to suicide. Your self-preservation instincts are too sharp.”

“Are they? Are you sure about that? What would you wager on the fact I won’t slice my own throat open for what you and your foul pig of a brother have done to me?” I pressed the dagger in a little for effect, letting it bite in and loosen a small rivulet of blood to slip down the pale column of my neck.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed, trying to lunge for the knife.

Goose’s jaws collided with her wrist and snapped down several times before she was able to draw it back.

“And why not? I have nothing left to lose but my chains.” I slid the knife down, letting it carve into the sensitive flesh of my throat. Milky golden blood pumped in quick succession down the yoke of my dress. “You have one more week, my Lady Oaken Rose. If the sun sets on me within this palace on the seventh day, I will slit my throat and let you sort out whatever consequences come for you as a result. And if you think to have me sequestered to keep me chained and shackled to prevent it, know that I am very determined, and the moment an opportunity arose I would not hesitate. You would merely prolong your exposure to magic’s wrath. So, think very carefully about your next move.”

Her eyes narrowed as she held her wounded wrist close to her body. “I will not be dictated to by a fucking animal.”

“Oh, but you will be, my dearest Lady Oaken Rose. I know being the one over the barrel getting ass fucked by an oath is unfamiliar to you. So, let me spell it out. You chose to enter an oath with me. You sat your pretty little ass in that garden and waited for me. You maneuvered this into place. Not me. I was not the one that sought you out. Oaths cut both ways my lady. You, a Fae, should know that. Oaths sworn must be kept.” I pulled the blade away from my neck. “Now I believe I have made my fucking point. Get out of my sight.”

“I could have you beaten every day for those seven days and then toss you out the front door,” she snapped.