It’s one last bit of rebellion—saying his true name.
The queen rises from her throne, her snowy white skirts billowing behind her as she reaches out to hold both of my hands.
Her fingers are ice to the touch.
“In exchange, I agree to tell you the location of your mother,” she says, and I feel the bond lock into place. I glare at her, and she adds, “As well as consider Nox’s side of the bargain fulfilled.”
If I were capable of it, I might feel a bit sick.
The feeling is worsened when the queen tells me of my stepmother’s location, and I realize that though the queen is incapable of lying, she’s still managed to trick me just as easily without it.
CHAPTER 47
NOX
I watch Blaise as she leaves the throne room.
She has the set to her shoulders of a woman who has left behind a burden.
I suppose she’s leaving, which is exactly what I want for her.
But wanting it for her is not the same as wanting it for me, and I can’t ignore the hurt that pierces my chest when I realize I’m the burden she’s leaving behind.
So as I watch her walk away, it’s like watching my soul being rent in two.
I’ve worked myself into an irate state by the time I burst into the queen’s throne room.
She’s leaning back against the headboard of the throne, her lithe body slouched against the polished silver, her eyes closed in what must be a fleeting moment of peace.
When my footsteps ricochet across the frozen river that carves her throne room in mismatched halves, she jerks awake, her back snapping into its rigid upright position.
“Ah. Farin,” she says as if she was expecting someone else and is relieved it’s only me. Only Farin. Her son who is not her son.
I’m not in the mood for formalities. The queen has been evading me ever since Blaise woke from her Turning. I’d been so distressed as Blaise writhed upon that altar, so convinced she wouldn’t survive the harsh magic that ripped her body apart and stitched it back together, I hadn’t dared to call in my bargain with the queen.
At the time, I’d felt I could only ask the Fates for so much at one time, and though I was convinced Zora would live on through the remainder of the week, I felt all the Fates’ attention must be directed toward Blaise.
Blaise who had let me kill her.
Blaise who had lied to me.
Blaise who left.
But Blaise is not the only liar between the two of us.
It happened when Cinderella’s neck cracked. When her body morphed back into Blaise’s corpse before slumping dead on the floor.
It had come out of her—a sickly looking shadow of a substance, crawling from her lifeless lips.
Something ingrained in me had taken over amidst my grief, a habit Gunter had instilled in me, and I’d herded the inky being into the adamant vessel.
And then I’d bowed at the queen’s feet, offering it to her, begging for her to make Blaise live.
The queen had agreed to offer her assistance, to do whatever she could to ensure Blaise’s survival, but the parasite wasn’t the only thing she wanted in return.
As it turns out, I didn’t need the queen’s help—Blaise would have woken without her potions and salves—but the queen had fulfilled her side of the bargain in offering assistance, and now Blaise lives, half a life as it may be.
In exchange, I am the queen’s.
Forever.
It’s why when Blaise asked me about the parasite, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. Couldn’t bring myself to admit that I’d taken our dreams, our future, and dashed them upon the rocks.
It’s why, when I learned the gravity of what Blaise withheld from me, I clung to my anger like a drunk to the bottle. Because at least, for just a moment, if I could be angry with Blaise, I could forget I was angry with myself.
I herd my mind from the thought.
It’s not useful anyway. Blaise and I are done. We were done the moment I bowed before the queen and gave myself over to her will.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” I say, and the queen doesn’t deny it. She simply rubs her forehead in the most unqueenly manner I’ve ever witnessed. There’s something about her regal air that’s lacking today, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. “It’s time for you to fulfill your end of the bargain. I extracted the parasite and delivered it to you; I fulfilled my end. It’s past time that you wake my sister and allow her to depart.”
The queen lets out a sigh. Her breath is so cold, it doesn’t fog the air, chilled by the river of ice. “You wish to remain, then?”
The scoff that escapes from my mouth drips venom from my exposed teeth. We both know that she hasn’t left me a choice.
A pained smile stains her lips, creases the corners of her discerning eyes. “I had hoped you might become fond of this place over the years. That you might one day consider it your home.”
There’s a barb to her words, one that stabs at the space between my lungs.
