Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 127026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
March clearly liked this line of reasoning. He wanted that throne above all else. Kerrigan had just been the easiest way to get to it.
“And what happens if he loses?”
Trask leaned forward. “He won’t.”
“Anyone can lose.”
“Not when they have this,” Trask said. Then, he reached into his pocket and removed a small disc.
“The Collector,” Kerrigan whispered to Fordham.
Kerrigan wanted to burst in and knock out the pair of idiots. She wanted that Collector in her hand. She wanted to discover its secrets. But maybe if she waited a moment longer, Trask would spill more information about the Red Masks’ plan.
“A disc of Tendrille?” March scoffed. “How is that going to make him win?”
“It’s called the Collector. It takes the magical print of every person who is in his cause. So, we can all rise up as one against those who have tried to stamp us down for so long.”
“And who is that?”
“The Society.”
March guffawed. “You’re going against the Society?”
“Those in the Society who are letting half-Fae and humans rise up the ranks. They should be kept exactly where they belong. Under our boots.”
March arched an eyebrow. “So, why would you want me after I was engaged to a half-Fae?”
“Anyone can be redeemed in the eyes of the Father. Repent against your previous actions, and the Father will richly reward you in his new world.”
March’s eyes lost their skepticism, and he seemed genuinely interested. “You know I care little for politics.”
“I know that you want Bryonica,” Trask said. “And why shouldn’t you have it? You’re a powerful Fae male, next in line for the throne. We could use someone with your sensibilities to work with us.”
March wavered. “What would I have to do?”
“Touch the Collector, join us, rise up on election day to the start of a new regime. Then, you will have the throne of Bryonica.”
Kerrigan and Fordham exchanged a glance. Election day. That was only a few days away. What exactly did rise up mean in this instance? Was there going to be a protest? Were they going to go after the Dregs, as they had done after the tournament? She had too many questions and no answers.
She wanted March to ask more questions. To get Trask to tell him more. He couldn’t simply agree based on false assurances, could he?
March stood then, ran a hand back through his dark hair, and then nodded. “All right.” He pressed a thumb to the Collector. “Count me in.”
Kerrigan’s stomach plummeted. She hadn’t realized that she was holding out hope that March would turn him down. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time Trask had tried to recruit him. He’d known all along that Trask was a Red Mask and never mentioned it to her. Not that that was a surprise.
But after what had happened at the nominee presentation, when she had chosen Fordham over him, it made sense that he would want revenge. He would want someone else to fill the power vacuum her absence had left.
Fordham glanced at her. “I jump and take out March. You go after Trask.”
She swallowed down bile. It was finally time.
Then, the adjoining door opened, and a chorus of noise filled the room. Trask discreetly put the Collector back into his pocket. He laughed jovially as roughly two dozen other Fae entered the room. To Kerrigan’s horror, she recognized nearly all of them. Bryonican nobles who had been at her formal birthday party. Royals who had tried to curry favor with her for one thing or another. Friends of her father’s. Were all of them Red Masks?
“Welcome to the party, March,” a female said, placing her hand on March’s sleeve.
He removed his arm abruptly. He looked like he wanted to snap at her for being so familiar, but Trask threw an arm over his shoulders.
“Let’s toast to our newest member.”
Fordham’s hand was on her arm. “We can still take them,” he whispered.
She shook her head. “Two dozen? We’d have the element of surprise, but I know the strengths of half of those people. There are Society members in there. Not just untrained half-wits.”
“What do you suggest?”
She didn’t know. She needed time to think. Darby couldn’t keep the servants away from here forever. It was going to look suspicious that no one had come this way to bring them refreshments. Even as a handful of humans flitted into the room and passed out flutes of sparkling.
“We have to wait out the party,” she said, grasping for another solution.
“We can’t,” Fordham insisted.
But what else could they do?
Then, another figure slithered into the room. Kerrigan’s eyes widened, and she squeezed Fordham’s arm tight.
“What?” His eyes found the stunning female who had glided into the room. “Isa.”
“Isa,” Kerrigan agreed.
The tides had just turned a second time. Two dozen nobles … maybe. Two dozen nobles and Isa. Maybe was looking more like maybe not.