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Somehow Munro forced himself to say, “True.”
“And we once both shared an appreciation for talented nymphs.”
Ellie slapped his shoulder again. “I’m not messing around. Knock it off.”
He didn’t. “Although my level of appreciation pales in comparison to yours.” He turned to his queen and said, “This one spent centuries doing nothing but nymphs.”
Kereny stiffened beside Munro.
Bloody hell. “You fucking checked up on me?” To Ellie, he said, “Excuse my French.”
She shrugged. “Oh, French is my favorite language. Ask fucking anybody.”
“Of course we vetted you,” Lothaire said. “We don’t soft-open our kingdom for just anyone. Although the nymphs vouched for you, is that enough to justify helping you find the Ring of Sums?”
Kereny said, “Perhaps we shouldn’t find it at all. We’ve heard the ring can be dangerous.” Still trying to find any reason not to be turned with the wishgiver.
After learning about her parents, Munro understood more about her refusal, but he couldn’t allow that to undermine his convictions.
Ellie answered, “The ring is dangerous. The more wishes you make, the more it’ll gum up the works. Leo explained it to me this way: if someone’s first wish is for a fortune in gold, trunks of coins will appear. If someone’s fourth wish is for the same, coins might bury the wisher’s family, suffocating them.”
When Munro heard shite like that, his Instinct screamed that he wanted no part of that magic. He met gazes with Kereny, hers imploring him to end this.
At his unbending look, she turned to the regents and said, “We also learned that Dorada will never use it again.”
Lothaire said, “Nor would I.”
Munro pointed out, “You must no’ have been too worried about any dangers since you used it on your fated female.”
“The wording is critical. I checked every iteration of my wishes against the foresight of my oracle, Hag.” He gestured toward Balery. Hag?
The queen said, “Balery. Everyone but Lothaire calls her by her name.”
“My fey magic tinkerer possesses some skill,” Lothaire continued. “Nothing like Nïx’s foresight, though.”
Balery appeared used to his antics.
“But at least Hag won’t double-cross you on a whim,” he added. “Nïx is apt to fuck you over whenever it pleases her.”
Munro said, “I know this well. She delivered my brother to the Order for experiments.”
“She gave those meddlesome humans my exact location, teeing me up for their capture. But that was nothing compared to what she did to me in the past. When an enemy buried me in the Bloodroot Forest, she knew and did nothing.” His eyes deepened in color, and he seemed to go into a trance. “The carnivorous roots of those trees invaded my grave, forever goring my barely regenerating flesh for blood. Never-ending torture . . . When I was released at last, six centuries had passed.”
Kristoff looked shocked by this admission.
The queen’s eyes glinted.
Lothaire appeared to wake up. “So cry me a river about your brother’s single vivisection. Also, understand me: I can trash-talk Nïx—she is my oldest friend—but no one else had better do so in my presence.” His red gaze gleamed with menace.
At the sight, Munro’s beast fought to rise, his fangs lengthening.
Lothaire gave a laugh. “Loa described you as one of the most reasonable of your kind; that sounds about right.”
Munro just stopped himself from snapping his fangs. Somehow, he stifled his beast again. How many more times would he be able to seize control?
Lothaire gave him a studying glance, then turned his attention to Kereny. “That pesky Order is a tedious subject for conversation. Those mortals have no style, no verve. Not like your circus.”
“So,” Kereny said, “you checked up on me as well?”
Lothaire’s lips quirked. “Mortal, I knew you back in the day.”
FORTY-EIGHT
Ren frowned. “I don’t think I would forget you.” Lothaire was the most intimidating—and eerily beautiful—being she’d ever seen.
Munro was gorgeous, but one never had to wonder if he was even real.
The king’s bearing made her feel like a mouse dangled before a coiled serpent. His expression said, I might strike at any moment, with no provocation, solely because I can.
It reminded her of the Forbearer king’s harnessed aggression. Whereas Stelian nonchalantly took sips from a flask, the blond male all but vibrated. Again, she wondered why the Forbearer king was attending the Dacian one.
“I searched for this realm for ages,” Lothaire told her, “so I often traveled through the Cursed Forest, but I didn’t call on you. I wouldn’t have wanted to interrupt the work of the Transylvanian Blade Huntress. You and your circus amused me to watch. How humiliating it must have been for my foes to cower before a human girl.”
A chill whispered across her nape. He’d been in those woods, and she’d never known.
“When mortals fight immortals, an early death is inevitable,” he said. “So it was a puzzle to me why humans would place themselves in jeopardy.”
