Page 52 of The Stolen Heir

I walk into the hall, where two more knights are waiting. They march me to an audience chamber where Queen Annet sits on a throne covered in powdery white moths, each one fluttering its wings a little, giving the whole thing the effect of a moving carpet. She is dressed in simpler black than she was when I saw her last, but Oak is in the same clothes, as though he hasn’t slept. His hands are clasped behind him. Tiernan stands at his side, his face like stone.

I realize how used to seeing Oak’s easy smile I am, now that he no longer wears it. A bruise rests beneath one of his eyes.

I think of him staggering back from the ogre’s blow, blood on his teeth, looking as though he was waiting for another hit.

“You stole from me.” Annet’s eyes seem to glint with barely concealed rage. I imagine that losing a mortal and a merrow was embarrassing enough, not to mention losing Hyacinthe, whom she had practically bullied Oak into letting her keep. She must especially mislike being humiliated in front of the heir to the High Court, even if I have given her an excuse to delay him a little longer. Still, she cannot make any legitimate claim thathewas a party to what I did.

At least I don’t think she can.

If Revindra is angry with me, Annet’s rage will be far greater and much more deadly.

“Do you deny it?” the queen continues, looking at me with the expression of a hunting hawk ready to plunge toward a rat.

I glance at Oak, who is watching me with a feverish intensity. “I can’t,” I manage. I am trembling. I bite the inside of my cheek to ground myself in pain that I cause. This feels entirely too familiar, to wait for punishment from a capricious ruler.

“So,” the Unseelie queen says. “It seems you conspire with the enemies of Elfhame.”

I will not let her put that on me. “No.”

“Then tell me this: Can you swear to being loyal to the prince in all ways?”

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. My gaze goes to Oak again. I feel a trap closing in. “No one could swear to that.”

“Ahhh,” says Annet. “Interesting.”

There has to be an answer that won’t implicate me further. “The prince doesn’t need Hyacinthe, when he has me.”

“It seemsIhave you,” Queen Annet says, making Oak look at her sideways.

“Won’t he go immediately to Lady Nore and tell her everything we plan?” asks Oak, speaking for the first time. I startle at the sound of his voice.

I shake my head. “He swore an oath to me.”

Queen Annet looks at the prince. “Right under your nose, not only does your lady love take him from you, but uses him to build her own little army.”

My cheeks heat. Everything I say just makes what I’ve done sound worse. Much, much worse. “It was wrong to lock Hyacinthe up like that.”

“Who are you to tell your betters what is right or wrong?” demands Queen Annet. “You, traitorous child, daughter of a traitorous mother, ought to be grateful you were not turned into a fish and eaten after your betrayal of the High Court.”

I bite my lip, my sharp teeth worrying the skin. I taste my own blood.

“Is that really why you did it?” Oak asks, looking at me with a strange ferocity.

I nod once, and his expression grows remote. I wonder how much he hates that I was called his lady love.

“Jack of the Lakes says that you were to escape with Hyacinthe,” the queen goes on. “He was very eager to tell us all about it. Yet you’re still here. Did something go wrong with your plan, or have you remained to commit further betrayal?”

I hope Jack of the Lakes’ pond dries up.

“That’s not true,” I say.

“Oh?” says Annet. “Didn’tyou mean to escape, too?”

“No,” I say. “Never.”

She leans forward on her throne of moths. “And why is that?”

I look at Oak. “Because I have my own reasons to go on this quest.”