Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“Where did Mordeus take her? Did he kill her?” She told me he wouldn’t. Told me she was worth more to him alive than dead. She was so sure she’d be rescued. “I need to know if she lives and where I can find her.” The green-eyed faerie before me isn’t the first guard I’ve found since acquiring this ring, and he won’t be the first or last to know my wrath, but he’s the one who took my friend away. He’s the one who can tell me where she is.
“I took her to the king. Perhaps he can tell you where she is.”
I frown. “The king is dead.” My sister killed him herself after she freed me from his dungeons.
His eyes flare bright. “You do not know! Our king lives! The gods have listened and given him back to us!”
“That’s not possible.” My words snap in the quiet night.
“But it is. Mordeus was wise, and he prepared for all eventualities. We never should have doubted.”
Fear is a chisel chipping at my icy heart.
I yank my heart back and lock it away where it belongs.
The faerie reaches for me but stops, his hand just short of my shoulder. “Are you mad at me?”
“I am. You are the reason my friend cried and shook in the dark. And you are the reason she is lost to me.”
His face crumples. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I didn’t know,” he blubbers, tears sneaking out the corners of his eyes.
I wish I could’ve seen him like this in the dungeons—could’ve seen him begging. My disapproval hurts him. While I wear this ring, he would do anything to be in my good favor.
“Tell me what you want,” he pleads. “Anything.”
It’s getting late. Too soon the sun will rise, and my sister will be looking for me—looking for the weak and frightened little girl she expects to live inside this skin. So I don’t draw this out the way I prefer. I bat my lashes and fist the fabric at the front of his tunic.
I curl my lips and watch his heartache wash away. My smile makes him happy. My smile makes him believe he’s done something right. “There’s only one thing I want,” I say, leaning closer.
“It’s yours.” He’s breathless. Desperate for my command. “What is it?”
“A kiss.”
“Thank you.” He exhales—relieved and grateful. I’ve given him permission to take what he’s wanted since he set eyes on me.
This is where the magic truly is. The moment these red lips touch his.
His breath hitches. His lips part in horror, and life leaves his eyes. He becomes a heavy weight—death leaning against me. I smile in earnest now. He can no longer torment those weaker than him. He can no longer find pleasure in others’ pain.
Once I release his shirt, his lifeless body falls to the ground.
I slice off a handful of his curls with my dagger, then slip away as quietly as I arrived, knowing the faeries in the alehouse below will have no memory of my visit, no memory of the chestnut-haired woman with the face of the shadow princess.
My chambers are warded against goblin travel, so I have my goblin bring me to a remote area at the back edge of the palace grounds. The sun hasn’t yet begun to rise, but the palace is lined with paths lit by torches that illuminate my companion’s pimpled face.
Gommid is two feet shorter than me with a big belly, a bulbous nose, and a tongue he can’t quite keep inside his toothy mouth. He eyes my magic ring and shakes his head. “Perhaps you should learn to face your enemies without that wicked crutch,” he says.
I ignore this. I don’t know why the ring doesn’t affect goblins, but I know Gommid well enough to know my secrets are safe with him, so I don’t worry about it.
I reach into my pocket and retrieve the handful of my victim’s curls—Gommid’s payment—but hold them away from his grasp. “A male I spoke with tonight told me Mordeus is back. Did he speak the truth?”
“You ask about the honesty of the male you killed?” He sniffs and flicks at the tip of his nose with his long tongue.
I shouldn’t be surprised that he knows how I spent my night. Goblins are the keepers of secrets in this realm, and they always know more than they’ll share. My sister told me their knowledge is collective. What one knows, they all know. She wasn’t warning me so much as letting me know they are a useful resource, but I’ve always wondered what they do with all that information. No one really knows where goblins’ loyalty lies.
I shrug. “Is it true?”
“Your sister’s claim to the throne is secure. Do not fret.”
I scowl. “I’m not afraid.”
“Oh? Is that why you wear that ring and hunt your enemies in the dead of night? Need I warn you again? You must be yourself more than the Enchanting Lady, or she will control you.”