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The massive bathroom’s sunken hot spring looked as if it might double as a lap pool.The sitting room held nothing but prissy spindles and embroidery furniture.And then there was the bedroom.A giant bed surrounded by gossamer hangings made an intoxicating combination of innocence and sex appeal.He didn’t want to dwell on the prospect of there being only one bed.This wasn’t the same as bunking in a warehouse patrolled by her cousin’s guards.
At least he knew that realm.
Kradnovtl?
He might as well be in another galaxy.
A portrait hung over a bouquet of fresh flowers.He moved for a closer look.The blooms’ fragrance hit him, so close to Vori’s scent.The masterpiece in the elaborate gilded frame showed his supermodel as a kid.No smiles for the tiny princess—she wore a solemn expression and a golden amethyst-studded tiara that looked far too big for her.
“How old were you when this was done?”
“Six.Maybe seven.”
Her mother, the part-fae queen consort, had been the mirror image of the supermodel Vori would become.Tall, fair, dark-haired, and stunningly beautiful, the only notable difference was the color of their eyes.Her mother’s eyes had been a gray so dark they were almost black.Vori’s had been violet even then, matching the amethysts in her tiara as much as the metalwork echoed the natural crown she wore in goblin form.
He had so many questions.He’d start with the simplest.“She called you Vorishka?Why?”
“My mom gave me that nickname.It means little thief.”She sounded sad, haunted.
Needing to keep her in the present, he tried a different topic.“Who is Jura to you?”
“She was my mom’s best friend, a great lady of the faerie court sent by Queen Clíodhna as part of the deal with my grandfather.For her to have been demoted?For them to have put her in that collar’s slow death sentence?For Artanya to have killed my mother’s chosen servants?I can’t imagine how terrifying the aftermath must have been for Jura.”
They needed to find those amethysts, stop the killer, and get the hell out of here.“The killer’s royal markings in goblin form—gold or silver?”
“Both.”Vori raked her fingers through her hair.The switch from goblin to supermodel had him again noticing the differences, such as her skin and ears and the shape of her hands, but also the clear similarities in the way she carried herself.“But only a handful of royals could have survived my father.”
“You said he killed for religious reasons.”
“Zealot madness.My father twisted the divine right belief to mean that soaking the ground with royal blood would heal the realm, and he didn’t spare innocents or children.”
“What if he used that as a cover to kill possible rivals for the throne?”Except the mad king had missed the two biggest threats—his brother, Lenneck, and Vori.
“Maybe.That would explain my uncle coming to my mother.Other than my father, I was the only golden-blood.”
“Perhaps.”Or perhaps her uncle had wanted to remove one of his two biggest obstacles to the crown.No wonder her mother had forced Vori into the human world.A young princess with a golden crown and amethyst eyes—the embodiment of their original queen—would’ve made the ultimate sacrifice or threat.Either might be possible.Perry couldn’t dwell on that, or he’d go as insane as her father had been.“At least we’re safe locked in here.”
She slid a wary look at him.“Maybe.Maybe not.It might be harder to justify my death if everyone knew I had returned.Implicit safety comes with living in the public eye.”
“Which is why you’re so famous in the human world.I should’ve seen it before.No wonder you became famous so young.”
“My adopted family thought it was the best way to prevent retaliation from Kradnovtl.Anyone who wanted to harm me would’ve had to overcome the constant spotlight and my immensely powerful demon-hybrid connections.”
He’d been the one in danger there.
They both were here.
Opening the silver serving dishes on the tray, he caught his reflection and the marking she had drawn on his forehead.She’d traced the spiked wicked crown in her golden blood on his skin.It was a whisper of her own.
The scents of citrus and butter and dough filled the air.Vori joined him, her nearness distracting him.“Mmm.”She lifted a pastry.“Jura brought my favorite lemon tarts.Given the empty fields and storage spaces we saw on our way in, I’m surprised they had the ingredients.”
“You could help your people if you decided to stay.”How someone could voluntarily walk away from such power floored him.Yes, her father had tainted the throne with his psychotic tyranny, but she could be so much more than a beautiful face on magazines.She could rule and do the job well.
“My home doesn’t need another power-hungry royal.I’m not becoming my father.”She dropped the lid on the tarts with a clatter.
“Okay, no overthrowing the government while we’re here.Noted.”
“We find the stones and the killer, and we go home.”
