Cardan reemerges in the royal box, wearing loose white linen and a flower
crown all of roses. He ignores the High King and Prince Dain and flops down in
a chair beside Prince Balekin, with whom he exchanges a few sharp words that I
dearly wish I were close enough to hear. Princess Caelia has arrived for her
sister’s bout and applauds wildly when Rhyia walks out onto the clover.
Madoc never returns.
I ride home alone. Vivi heads off with Rhyia after she wins her bout—they
are going hunting in the nearby woods. Taryn agrees to accompany them, but I
am too weary and too sore and too on edge.
In the kitchens of Madoc’s house, I toast cheese over a fire and spread it on
bread. Sitting on the stoop with that and a mug of tea, I watch the sun go down
as I eat my lunch.
The cook, a trow named Wattle, ignores me and continues magicking the
parsnips to chop themselves.
When I am done, I brush crumbs from my cheeks and head for my room.
Gnarbone, a servant with long ears and a tail that drags on the ground, stops
in the hall when he sees me. He’s carrying a tray of thimble-size acorn cups and
a silvery decanter of what smells like blackberry wine in his large, clawed hands.
His livery is pulled tight across his chest, and pieces of fur stick out of the gaps.
“Oh, you are at home,” he says, a growl in his voice that makes him seem
menacing no matter how benign the words he speaks. Despite myself, I can’t
help thinking of the guard who bit off the tip of my finger. Gnarbone’s teeth
could snap off my whole hand.
I nod.
“The prince is asking for you downstairs.”
Cardan, here? My heartbeat speeds. I can’t think. “Where?”
Gnarbone looks surprised by my reaction. “In Madoc’s study. I was just
bringing him this—”
I grab the tray out of his hands and head down the stairs, intent on getting
rid of Cardan as quickly as I can, any way that I can. The last thing I need is for
Madoc to overhear my being disrespectful and decide I’ll never belong at the
Court. He is a servant of the Greenbriar line, sworn as surely as anyone. He
would not like my being at odds with even the least of the princes.
I fly down the stairs and kick open the door to Madoc’s study. The knob
crashes into a bookshelf as I stride into the room, plunking down the tray with
enough force to make the cups dance.
Prince Dain has several books lying open on the library table in front of
him. Golden curls fall over his eyes, and the collar of his pale blue doublet is
open, showing a heavy silver torque at his throat. I halt, aware of the colossal
mistake I have made.
He raises both eyebrows. “Jude. I didn’t expect you to be in such a rush.”
I sink into a low bow and hope he will think me only clumsy. Fear gnaws at
me, sharp and sudden. Could Cardan have sent him? Is he here to punish me for
my insolence? I can think of no other reason that honored and honorable Prince
Dain, soon to be the ruler of Faerie, would ask for me.
“Uh,” I say, panic tripping my tongue. With relief, I remember the tray and
indicate the decanter. “Here. This is for you, my lord.”
He picks up an acorn and pours a little of the thick black liquid into the cup.
“Will you drink with me?”
I shake my head, feeling completely out of my depth. “It will go straight to
my head.”
That makes him laugh. “Well then, keep me company a time.”
“Of course.” That, I cannot possibly refuse. Alighting on an arm of one of
the green leather chairs, I feel my heart thud...