It is, a little. “Why haven’t you told?”
“I already explained.” Laurel adjusts her blanket. “You’re entitled to your secrets. And the crown princess can do as she likes. Not everyone would feel that way, though.” There’s a warning in her tone.
“I’m aware.” The cold leaking through the window has bitten through my clothes. I move to the chair across from Laurel, wincing as I imagine what Rose would do with such delicious knowledge.
“Is that why she stopped coming?”
I pick at the fringe on a throw pillow. “I have no idea,” I lie, stubbornly refusing to admit my own na?ve stupidity. “I thought…things were different between us.”
“She’s a royal.”
“You’re saying I shouldn’t trust her?”
Firelight catches the bits of sea-green in the wisps of hair that escape her braid. “I’m saying she’s as caged as we are. In a different way.”
“You feel caged?”
“Don’t you?” She tilts her head. “The Graces are commodities, the same as you. We both attended the trial.”
Narcisse’s frenzied pleas resonate in the whine of the wind outside. I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “Aurora wants to change that. Abolish the Grace Laws and establish an entirely new system.”
“Aurora?” Laurel smiles and a blush climbs up my neck. “She might. If she lives. And I hope she does. But there’s a difference between being a princess, given free rein to traipse about the Grace District at night, and a queen.”
Kal’s words from a different mouth. I hadn’t wanted to believe them then, but now—
“Don’t mistake me,” Laurel continues, tracing her fingertips over an illustration in the book. A Briar Queen, it looks like. I can make out the thorned bramble crown from here. “I expect great things from the princess. We need more rulers like the early queens. Leythana’s daughter systemized the Etherium mining. Her great-great-granddaughter established the trade routes we still use today.” She doesn’t try to mask the disdain in her next words. “Of course, much was lost once the queens started doling out their responsibilities as wedding gifts.”
“Aurora swears she wouldn’t.” But a bitter taste forms in my mouth. Can I believe anything the princess said?
“It would mean a new age.” Laurel studies the fire. “The Lord Ambassador is also eager to see what would happen with the next queen.”
Endlewild.
I swear I can hear his snide Fae laughter in the crackle of the fire. “I don’t give a dragon’s asshole what he thinks.”
Laurel’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “You’re not fond of the Fae lord.”
I wrap my arms around my middle as tight as they will go, the phantom burn of that golden staff scorching my skin.
“You wouldn’t be either if he tortured you a hundred thousand ways, deemed you a half-breed, and promised your death at his earliest convenience.”
A flush smears across Laurel’s cheeks. She looks away. “I know you have a history.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” I cringe against the memory of his coarse, bark-like touch. “And what are you doing talking to him anyway? He hates the Graces.”
“I met him when I first Bloomed. He’s partial to the wisdom Graces. I believe he views us as less…materialistic. And we’ve spoken several times at social engagements.” She pauses, pressing her lips together as if considering whether or not to continue. “And he doesn’t hate the Graces. That’s a common misconception. He hates Briar’s obsession with wealth and beauty. Ours is no longer the realm the Fae entrusted to Leythana. And he despises seeing light Fae magic bottled and sold.”
“Sounds like something they should have thought about before they made the alliance agreement during the war.” I burrow deeper into the blanket, that slimy feeling of Endlewild’s gaze still oozing down my spine.
Laurel shrugs. “Perhaps. But I think you have more in common with the Lord Ambassador than you realize.”
I huff out a laugh. “He wants me dead.”
“He’s separated from his kin and court. Made to witness his own breed of magic harvested for vanity and greed. Can you imagine what Narcisse’s trial was like for him?”
Once again, the fallen Grace’s ghost hovers in the shadows. It was hard enough to watch her gilded blood racing through the tubes, picturing my own kind in her place. And I’d noticed Endlewild’s absence at the trial. I’d assumed he hadn’t known about it, but perhaps he did know. And he stayed away because he couldn’t bear the sight.