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No one deserved what she did to me, nor what I had to do to her. No one. Autumn’s assessment of the toxicity of the queen was far more spot-on than I had realized before. Had she not pointed it out with such conviction, it may not have bled into my mind as it had. Like a plague taking root and spreading, I now could not unsee the travesty of my situation and the wickedness of the queen of Catalan.
Yet still, I was her plaything.
I hadn’t grown courage since Autumn, and I had parted ways. I hadn’t heightened my willpower against Amira or our contract. If anything, I had resigned to my fate even deeper for fear that any bit of rebellion or myself that peeked through would show Amira that I had something to lose. That I had someone I cared about more than myself.
My thoughts ceased as Bereille stared at me expectantly, and my mind returned to his words. “What do you mean, Bereille?”
“She cursed the child.”
“What…” Then I recalled he mentioned the naming ceremony and Margarite’s son. I’d heard Margarite had a healthy baby boy, and Duke Drekor was thrilled. However, I had not asked about the naming ceremony or thought about it. “How?”
“I’m not sure exactly. Her words were cunning, and no one realized what she had done, but I’m afraid she’s up to something explosive. Something to quake the world.”
“She’s already ruined so much,” I whispered. I knew saying too much would get us killed, but it wasn’t often the queen was away. I had been bottlingeverythingup, and my mental state was grim. I was not in a good place. I was brave enough to know and to admit it, especially to someone like Bereille. But I was also too weak to do anything about it.
“It’ll never be enough for her. I’m afraid Feist is in danger.”
“Feist?” Bereille’s words were a jumble, his thoughts jumping from one thing to another, and I had a tough time keeping up.
“Sahlyn, you must be cautious. Your farce is nearly up, and you need to be prepared.”
My eyes widened, and my heart thudded.
He knew.
I saw it in his eyes. He knew I had spared Autumn and tricked the queen.
“What do I do?”
“There are ways… Seek answers in Dunvar.”
“The mountains?”
He nodded and glanced around, searching for prying eyes and ears.“Mondu.”
Mondu… I had heard of that before. It was a dwarven catacomb somewhere beyond the mountain range.
“The girl, A—”
“Do not speak of her.” There was an edge of anger in his voice that shocked me. It was as if he knew Autumn personally. Maybe he did since we had blades made by her family.
“What do I need to do, Bereille?”
“Be ready.”
“Will you be there to help me?”
“Not in the way you think.”
Panic and tension radiated through me as I stared at him, but he didn’t elaborate, and we didn’t have another chance to speak.
The next day Amira returned, even stranger than she was previously. Crueler and more beautiful. Dark power radiated from her. I still had no idea where she'd been, but she returned changed, and it was even more terrifying. The third night back, she had a maid whipped and then killed for not properly making her bed for the second time, but what happened next was inconceivable.
I went to the stone bathing chamber after Amira had barked orders to the guards to deposit the maid’s body and drain her blood into one of the tubs. I got there before anyone else and integrated myself into the shadows of an alcove.
Moments after the guards had finished her bidding, Amira came in. She glanced around, assuming she was alone. She stripped without even checking the chamber, having no doubt told the guards not to disturb her. Amira’s nude body looked pearlescent ivory and glowed with female vitality. It was as if she had taken a long drink from the fountain of youth. Her growth in power had shed years from her appearance.
The queen stood before the strung-up, naked body of the deceased maid and cocked her head in contemplation. Then she plunged her blade into the girl's chest, twisting and carving until she pulled out her heart. She grasped it and let the blood run down her arms.
