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No matter what, I’d play my part. Shooting a glance at the guards posted near the door, I smoothed my skirts. Father didn’t need to know I had pants on under this slip. Just like he didn’t know how bad the chaffing situation got down there when you tried to learn how to fight in a godsdamned skirt. He was an old buffoon and I wouldn't miss him.
“Good afternoon, Daddy,” I said pleasantly as I stepped into the room. My fingers lingered on the doorknob before it fully closed. It was my final chance to run away. This would be my only opportunity to find a reason to not be here and dash out of the room. The cool brass vanished from my fingertips as I brought my hand back to my side, pinching my skirt between my fingers as I lowered myself into a curtsy.
Frannie, being the ass-kissing mistress she was, tilted her chin down in a bow of her own from the seat she’d draped herself so dramatically across. “Princess Maggie, I’m so glad you’ve joined us today. It’s a blessing to be in your presence.”
My cheeks lifted in the best fake smile I could muster. I hummed in response. The words ‘Is it?’ sitting on the edge of my tongue, threatening to ruin the image of grace I was putting forward for tea today.
“I was hoping we could take some time after and sew together. I could impart some womanly wisdom upon you,” Frannie continued.
I was never sure if her sweet nature was real or forced, but either way, it made me want to gag. Which would make it hard to keep from spewing the tea I was about to drink all over that expensive gown my father bought her. What a shame it would be if that got ruined.
Once my father was gone, I’d toss Frannie out of the castle and have the gown auctioned off for some extra coin. There was no way I’d ever wear it after her, and burning it would be a waste.
“Aren’t you younger than me?” I bent and kissed my father’s ring. “Shouldn’t I be the one bestowing wisdom?”
Oops, that slipped out.
Frannie’s eyebrows knitted together as she frowned, counting her fingers because doing math in that tiny little brain of hers was too hard. She giggled. “Silly me. I’d be happy to listen to any advice you could give me, Princess.”
There was always an edge to her voice anytime I said something I shouldn’t. An edge that told me that, should my father think her good enough, which he wouldn’t, she would make an evil stepmother and an even worse queen. Queen was my job. Queen would be my job.
“Perhaps another day.” I avoided eye contact with her, unable to even pretend for a second that that would be enjoyable.
A metal tray sat on the small table next to the couch. On top of the tray sat the steaming teapot and a small cup waiting for me. I lifted it by the handle, a steady hand hovering against the pot, like I had been taught to pour it as a young girl. Steam rolled off the warm, brown drink. A sweet scent of peppermint met my nose.
Father must really be in a mood to be drinking my mother’s favorite tea. That alone was worrying. The rings on his hand sparkled off the evening sun as it flooded in from the open curtains. His fingers rubbed across his forehead, trying to work away whatever headache was bothering him today. Which could be anything, really.
King Ottack worked himself up into a tizzy about anything and everything. ‘Trust no one, Maggie,’ he had told me many times. ‘Everyone’s a fool with an agenda.’ Yet somehow, he was still the one I didn’t trust. Being so close to a man like him made it easy to spot others cut from a similar cloth. And avoid them. Greedy, lying bastards.
“Why the long face?” I said with fake empathy. Metal and china rattled off each other as I set the cup down and stirred in some sugar. The small bit of noise was annoying enough for Frannie to watch my hands like a hawk. She wanted to watch me mess up. My only mistake was not dumping the entire teapot of burning hot liquid over her head. Her pale complexion would burn to a crisp. Even if it was only for a moment before it would heal, it would be satisfying enough.
“Why is it, darling, that I have to bear the weight of being the only ruler in Stylica that has any sense?” he sputtered from under his palm.
“Oh no,” I gasped. “What have the buffoons done this time?”
Another act. I already knew what the other rulers were doing. I always knew. Between my own personal penpals and spies I had enlisted, I was usually in the know before my father. Which is how I got so good at acting. It used to make my palms sweaty to act surprised. Sometimes I even wore turtleneck dresses to cover the way my chest would flush. Now, it was nothing. Lying came as naturally to me as it did to my father. He just didn’t know that yet, and he would never know it. Not if my plan for today went well.
“Oh, it’s awful. King Windre has sent out a proclamation to his entire court that they are releasing their Nymphs from slavery. Any Fae found in ownership of a Nymph by the end of the week will be rendered useless to the kingdom,” Frannie said, as she fanned herself like the thought alone would bring her to her knees.
Rendered useless to the kingdom. Fancy terminology for if you got caught, you got killed. I wondered who taught the little-miss-airhead that. Oh my gods, if my father was wasting our riches on a tutor for this half-wit... Okay, second decree once made queen, get rid of the tutor.
My jaw dropped open as I lowered myself to the couch. This news was too much to handle, I could faint. Or at least that’s how I wanted it to seem.
I fucking knew King Windre was releasing his Nymphs, and soon, we would be too. My father wanted more land, more slaves, more objects. Things to fill the endless void within him. He would take and take and take, until one day he would be facing off against everyone for a stupid plot of land he didn’t own. Or something along those lines. He would bring war upon our court just to keep pushing the boundaries, as he often did.
How they didn’t notice was beyond me. Over the past hundred years, my father had gained miles upon miles of land in every direction, just by instructing the cities along the border to slowly expand. That land was ours now. My father had to cheat his way to get it. Anything more… no, that would be war. We would be spread too thin, considering we had half our armies traipsing toward the Heathern Court for fucking King Ganglin.
King Ganglin may have looked my age and was about as handsome as any man derived from dreams, but I was not blind to the abuse he had put any partner he ever had through. I was not stupid. No, I’d rather find myself queen to that party boy, Dace, which seemed less likely, but I didn't need him now anyway. I had a new plan.
King Ottack growled under his breath. “It pains me to even hear it spoken out loud again. He has only given this thing momentum. Those Nymphs will be crushed by our army when the time comes. Without their powers, they can’t do any harm. Like annoying little gnats that just won't quit flying around your face.”
“Good comparison, King Ottack. Yes, just like gnats.” Frannie sipped her tea.
I turned away from her so I could roll my eyes. Some things couldn’t be contained. “That is terrible news. Will you be issuing any proclamations here?”
“And what? Set the Nymphs here free, too?” He laughed.
“Well, if they are as simple as gnats, I don’t see how they would be much of a problem if set free.”
