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Lavender had been right. Others were quick to change their opinion of her. She had earned their respect—for now—but she knew it wouldn’t last. People’s opinions were as fickle as the weather. One moment you were their sun and the next you were the cloud that stole it away.
The only thing she could do was her best, everyone else be damned.
“You can be seated.” She waited until everyone was situated before saying, “I have gathered you today to discuss my sister’s fate.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Duke Deveraux said. “We have begun preparations for her execution, which will take place at sunrise in two days time. Your Highness need not bother with the details. You have done more than enough. It is time for you to rest now.”
In other words, they wanted her to step back so they could take the reins. Thicket had other ideas. She clasped her hands in an effort to still them, preparing for the reaction that was sure to come with her next words. Confidence was like a crown. It was easy to slip on but difficult to hold the weight of. Maybe one day, it would come as naturally as being queen. For now, Thicket still had to remind herself to breathe.
She filled her lungs and said, “Lavender will not be executed.”
Shock rippled through the room.
“You cannot possibly be serious,” Count Armand demanded. “After all she has done, she deserves to die.”
“No,” Thicket said. “She deserves to pay for her crimes. But that doesn’t mean that price must be paid with her life.”
“Your Highness,” General Cales said. “I know she is your sister, however sparing her life poses too much of a risk. To ask those of Vindrya to live with that kind of fear…”
“The Desert Kingdom has already agreed to this punishment, as well, Your Highness,” Count Beauregard added.
Thicket squared her shoulders, looking each Council member in the eye as she said, “I am not asking Vindrya to sacrifice their peace of mind. I have a way to ensure that Lavender is never able to hurt anyone again. One that doesn’t end in her death.”
Caspian grinned. “And what, pray tell, Miss Vogeli, is that?”
“There is this curse…”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Thicket descended the stone staircase, cast in gloom and shadows. When her foot made contact with the last step, an echo reverberated through the dungeon’s walls, drawing Lavender’s attention. She sat alone in her cell, sprawled out on the firm bed stuffed in the back corner.
“So,” Lavender drawled. “Vindrya’s beloved Princess returns. I was starting to think you’d left me to rot down here.”
“I had to sort out the mess you left me with,” Thicket told her.
Lavender sat up, as graceful as a cat, flashing her with a sly grin. “Being Queen isn’t much fun, is it, little Rose?”
“I’m not Queen yet,” she reminded her.
“Not yet, but you still act like it.” Lavender, quick as a blade, was by the bars, grabbing hold of them. The rods shook and grumbled from the impact. “It should have been me.”
“You threw away that opportunity when you fell for what was written in that journal.”
Lavender froze.
Slowly, her light brown eyes hardened in understanding.
“You’ve read the prophecy.”
Silence was answer enough for her.
Lavender’s head fell, her face shielded by damp strips of her long hair. “For the longest time, I thought you were the prophesied ruin of Vindrya. How could you, a wild child with no grace or care, possibly rule our kingdom? I was a slave to that crown. My every day, my every breath, went into perfecting myself so I could be the ruler Vindrya deserved. In the end, none of it mattered. You are a phoenix and I am a raven. You shine brighter than any sun and I am left in the shadows with the scraps of your brilliance.” She let out a dry, humorless laugh. “So, have you come to kill me? To fulfill the prophecy? To purge my taint on the bloodline?”
“No,” Thicket said softly. “I’m not going to kill you.”
Lavender nodded. Wordlessly, she reached for a pendant at her neck. It wasn’t her raven’s totem. Just a regular piece of jewelry. Until Lavender twisted open the top and downed something inside. Slowly, the cuts and burns marring Lavender’s once perfect skin began to heal.
Her sister, it appeared, had one last trick up her sleeve.
