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Lidia had enough training and self-control to keep her face blank, tone utterly bored. “My mother was a witch-queen. Plenty of people knew her.”
“Ah, but I knew her—flew in her unit in our fighting days.”
Lidia angled her head. “Before or after you sold your soul to Flame and Shadow?”
“I swore allegiance to Flame and Shadow because of your mother. Because she was weak and spineless and had no taste for punishment.”
“I suppose my mother and I differ on that front, then.”
Hilde swept her rheumy gaze over Lidia. “Better than that disgrace of a sister who now calls herself queen.”
“Hypaxia is half Flame and Shadow—she should have your allegiance on both fronts.”
Lidia knew Irithys monitored each word. If she could remember things after seeing them only once, did it also apply to what she heard?
“Your mother was a fool to give you away,” Hilde grumbled.
Lidia arched a brow. “Is that a compliment?”
“Take it as you will.” The hag flashed her rotting teeth in a nightmare of a smile. “You’re a born killer—like any true witch. That girl on the throne is as softhearted as your mother. She’ll bring down the entire Valbaran witch-dynasty.”
“Alas, my father was a smart negotiator,” Lidia said, making a good show of admiring the ruby ring on her finger, the stone as red as Irithys’s flame. “But enough about me.” She gestured to the hag, then to the sprite. “Irithys, Queen of the Sprites. Hilde, Grand Hag of the Imperial Coven.”
“I know who you are,” Irithys said, her voice quiet with leashed rage. She now floated in the center of the orb, her body bloodred. “You put this collar on me.”
Hilde again smiled, wide enough to reveal her blackened gums. A lesser person would have cowered at that smile. “I had the honor of doing it to the little bitch who bore the crown before you, too.”
Hilde didn’t mean Irithys’s mother, who had never been queen at all. No, when the last Sprite Queen had died, the line had passed to a different branch of the family, with Irithys first to inherit.
A damned inheritance—she’d gained the title and a prison sentence in the same breath. Irithys had barely had her crown for a day before Rigelus had her brought into the dungeons.
Lidia said blandly, “Yes, Hilde. We all know how skilled you are. Athalar himself can thank you for his first halo. But let’s talk about why you chose to betray us.”
“I did no such thing.” Even with the gorsian shackles, a crackling sort of energy leaked from the hag.
Lidia sighed at the ceiling. “I do have appointments today, Hilde. Shall we speed this up?”
She gave no warning before tapping the top of Irithys’s crystal. It melted away to nothing, leaving only air between the hag and the Sprite Queen.
Irithys didn’t move. Didn’t try to run or erupt. She just stood there like a living, burning ruby. As if being free of the crystal after all these years—
Lidia shut down the thought, her voice as dead as her eyes as she said, “Let’s see how motivational you can be, Your Majesty.”
Hilde glared daggers, but didn’t cower or tremble.
Yet Irithys turned to Lidia, hair swirling above her. “No.”
Lidia arched a brow. “No?”
Across the table, Hilde was still bristling—but listening carefully.
Irithys said boldly, unafraid, “No.”
“It wasn’t a request.” Lidia nodded to the hag. “Burn her hand.”
Hilde snatched her gnarled hands off the table. As if that could save her.
Irithys’s chin lifted. “I may be your captive, but I do not have to obey you.”
