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“Yes!”
“Alchemy, Geneviève. You must—"
Whatever I must was interrupted by Sister Beverly dropping a wire into the saltwater, thereby electrocuting me. The chair was starting to the surface, so at least I could breathe.
I tried to gasp, but instead I screamed, choking on the electrified water, and convulsing.
Again and again, shocks jolted me.
I have no idea how long it lasted, but when the monstrous woman pulled me entirely out of the water, she was wearing thick black gloves and the sort of sadistic smile that nogoodperson would have in that moment.
“Please . . .” My teeth were grinding together, and I was pretty sure that I couldn’t stand even if I had a way to get free of my restraints.
“Confess! Repent!” She was grinning as she stared at me.
I was ready to confess to a host of things if it would make a difference. Being electrocuted wasn’t on my list of things I ever wanted to experience again.
“What do you want me to say?” I managed to ask.
She nudged the wire bundle closer to the edge, not into the well but threatening it.
“What?” I repeated.
“By submerging you, the water and steel chains conduct the charge without burning you.” Sister Beverly peeled off her gloves. “But don’t worry, witch, you all burn in the end, either here or in the fiery pits of hell. You think consorting with the devil will save you but—”
“I do not and have not consorted with the devil,” I said in a voice that was still far less steady than I’d like. “I am not what you think.”
“Witch,” she said.
Then the cruel nun—if that was even the correct word for a member of this random witch-torturing group—walked over to the door. “Monseigneur? I have had no luck with an admission of guilt. Shall I continue?”
The door opened, and this time, Chester entered the room. He was wearing priestly garb that was as convincing as a dress on a frog. A clerical collar didn’t make a man holy.
He made the sign of the cross over Sister Beverly. “You are doing God’s work.”
The woman practically swooned at his attention. “I am His to command, through your guidance of course!”
Chester patted her face like she was some house pet. “Perhaps she will confess to me, my dear. Maybe she’s too corrupt to share her vile words with an innocent . . .”
I scoffed, and Beverly eyed the wires at the edge of the well.
Chester, however, opened the door for her, and she took his cue to leave. I watched the door slip closed with a barely audiblethunk.
“Geneviève Crowe. You vex me.” Chester stared at me, and it was as if a mask melted from his features. The gentle monseigneur guise slipped away, and before me stood the arrogant duck pizzle that thought he could willfully destroy, kill, and maim.
Words aplenty buzzed in my head, but anger wasn’t going to help here. I bit back my rage and waited.
After several silent moments, he folded his hands together as if in prayer and pronounced, “I’ve been pondering our dilemma. There are only a few options left to me since Beatrice pronounced you as her heir.”
“She didwhat?” I asked, almost against my will.
“You were wed wearing her crown. That was an announcement,” he said, as if it were obvious.
And maybe it ought to have been. I thought back to the wedding. I should’ve known Beatrice was making a statement when she placed that circlet of gems on my hair.“This is not a veil. It is not a fae crown. It is in place of those things.”
Leave it to Beatrice to fail to mention what she was doing.Fucksicles. After centuries of answering to no one, Beatrice was obviously not keen on sharing all her machinations. And honestly, I resembled that trait far too much to be truly upset with her—but right now, I wasreallywishing she’d told me.
“I do not want to appear unreasonable,” Chester said. “A war withdraugrand fae aligned would be untidy.”
