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“Zinnia, it’s fine,” I protest, glancing around for signs of Jane. She’ll have already found a weapon, no doubt. “They don’t like our food.”
“I’ll have one of those, please,” Valerian drawls in that elegant, smooth voice. His impeccable manners grate on me. “And a cup of coffee would be delicious, Zinnia.”
Zinnia’s face brightens. “How do you take it?”
“However you take it is fine, Ma’am.”
Ma’am? Suck-up.
Asher nods. “I’ll have the same.” Valerian scowls at the dragon shifter, and he adds, “Ma’am.”
“Me too.” Eclipsa spots my annoyed look and shrugs. “What? We’re polite. Mortals like that stuff. It puts them at ease around us.”
Hardly. A tiger with fangs and manners is still a tiger. But I don’t argue as Zinnia sets a basket of muffins, a little container of butter shaped like a cow, and a pitcher of sweet tea and lemons on the table.
She sweeps a curious look over Valerian before settling her knowing smile on me.
I frown. My two worlds have suddenly collided, and I’m not sure how to feel about that. After what happened to her family, it takes limitless amounts of grace and forgiveness for Zinnia to serve the Evermore in her own home.
I’ve never been more convinced than now that Zinnia’s too good for this jacked up world.
After breakfast is on the table, and Zinnia assures me Vi has been placated and Jane kicked from the house, we get to work. I sip my black coffee, listening to Eclipsa detail what she knows about the Spring Court palace and the magical safeguards while surreptitiously stealing glances at Valerian.
He’s picking at the blueberries inside the muffin with his fork, lips twisted into a perplexed frown. I watch him carve off a little chunk, the pastry steaming from the inside, and place it onto his tongue.
Pure joy lights his face, and I stifle a grin.
Valerian Sylverfrost likes blueberry muffins.
He might not be capable of love, but this confirms he does indeed have a soul.
“We strike during the gauntlet,” Eclipsa is saying. She stares down at her milky coffee before apparently deciding it’s not drinkable. “If Hellebore has the Darken’s soulstone or pieces of the Worldslayer, they’ll be stashed below, in his private underground chambers. I know from experience he keeps everything he considers valuable or wants to hide there.” She pauses, daring Asher to make a quip about how she knows all this, but dragon boy smartly keeps his mouth shut. “I can only confirm three chambers for sure. Besides the vault with poisons and other treasures, there’s a torture chamber and . . . an adjoining bedroom.”
No one questions why one would have a bedroom adjoining a torture chamber.
I frown. “Are you sure you have to do it while I’m in the gauntlet? Maybe I can help somehow.”
“It has to be then, when everyone’s distracted.” Eclipsa sets her fork down on her plate; she hasn’t touched her muffin. “We’ll have to disarm Hellebore’s spells to gain entry, but I happen to know those already. And the spells on the vault shouldn’t be that hard to crack.”
A proud smirk dances across her face.
Of course. Assassins have to be able to break into stuff.
The coffee burns my lips as I take a sip, trying to wrap my head around everything. It all sounds so easy, which is a bit alarming considering how very deadly our plan really is. If they’re caught, they could be executed.
A flash outside my window draws my attention to Jane. She’s armed with my old bow, peering through the glass at our visitors. The twins and Tanner linger near the top of the stairs, watching my friends with curious gazes.
Asher shifts nervously. “Has anyone else noticed we’re slowly being surrounded?”
“Afraid of wee little mortals, Asher?” Eclipsa teases.
“The tiny girl keeps sticking her tongue out at me,” he points out, obviously disturbed by this. “And the other one picks his nose and then eats it.”
“They’re children,” Valerian comments. “All children are odd, but not particularly dangerous.”
Asher stares through narrowed eyes at them. Most Fae rarely encounter children of any kind. Evermore lock their babies away from society, the children raised by lower Fae until they’re in their teens and therefore old enough not to be a nuisance.
I actually totally get that policy right now as I watch Tanner load up his homemade slingshot and point it at Asher’s head. Asher bares his teeth, and Tanner grins in challenge, ready to let his marble fly.
