Finally, the unfamiliarity of them makes horrible sense. This is a trap.
This is the conspiracy he hoped Lady Elaine would reveal. Had Oak not missed their meeting in the gardens, had he not been so willing to believe that it was over when Lady Elaine herself gave it up, had he not departed on the quest to save his father in the first place, perhaps he could have discovered this. Discovered it and foiled it.
Oak recalls the councilor extolling the wisdom of his betrothal to Wren, recalls his pushing the royal family to come immediately to Insear after the hunt. Remembers how Randalin maneuvered a conference alone with Bogdana and Wren.
The Minister of Keys was laying the groundwork while acting so pompous and irritating that he couldn’t be taken seriously. And Oak fell for it. Oak underestimated Randalin in the most foolish way possible— by falling for the same trick he played on others.
Jude eases Cardan to the ground and kneels beside him, sword in her hand. “I will cut your throat,” she promises Randalin.
“Stabbity stab, knife wife,” says Fala, with feeling. “Traitor’s blood is hot, but it still spills.”
Taryn has a dagger out. Madoc, dangerous enough with just his claw-tipped hands, has moved into a fighting stance. Oak rises and moves to his side.
“You should have listened to me,” Randalin tells Jude from the safe distance he has put between them, behind one of his soldiers. “Mortals are not meant to sit on our thrones. And Cardan, the least of the Greenbriar princes, pathetic. But all that will be remedied. We will have a new king and queen in your place. You see, none of your own knights are here to save you. Nor can they cross to this isle while the storm rages. And it will rage until you’re dead.”
Oak blinks. “You made a deal with Bogdana. That’s what the Ghost was getting proof of, that’s the thing he thought I wouldn’t like.”
Because of Wren. That’s why the Ghost thought Oak wouldn’t like it.
“You should be grateful,” Randalin tells the prince. “I persuaded Bogdana to spare you, though you are of the Greenbriar line and her enemy. Because of me, you will sit on the throne with a powerful faerie queen by your side.”
“Wren would never . . . ,” Oak begins, but he’s not sure how to finish. Would she agree to the murder of his family? Did she want to be the High Queen?
You can’t trust me.
I’m not the one who needs saving.
Randalin laughs. “She didn’t object. And neither did you, as I recall. Didn’t you tell Lady Elaine of your resentment of the High King? Didn’t you encourage her plot to get you on the throne?”
Oak’s stomach hurts, hearing those words. Knowing a storm is raging outside because of someone he brought here. Seeing Cardan’s body lying in a pool of red, no longer conscious and maybe no longer alive. Thinking of the Ghost’s open, staring eyes. Seeing the way Oak’s sisters are looking at him now and how his mother is looking away.
“You poisoned Garrett,” Oak says.
Randalin laughs. “I gave him the wine. He didn’t have to drink it. But he got too close to uncovering our plans.”
“And Elaine?” he asks.
“What could I do?” Randalin says. “She wanted out.” And pouring her wine from the same urn as the spy’s convinced him it was safe to drink.
Expressing the desire to get out was how Oak planned on getting Elaine and her friends to turn on him. The same way he’d defeated other conspiracies—courting an attempted murder and exposing them for that instead of as traitors. But she hadn’t known it would doom her. He should have given her a warning.
And now his family thinks he was part of this. He can see it in their faces. And worse, in bringing Wren here, maybe he was.
Maybe this is what Wren wanted when she agreed to come to Elfhame. Revenge on him. Revenge on the High King and Queen, who stripped her of her kingdom and sent her away with no help and no hope. The crown that Mellith was promised.
Wren, whom he believed he loved. Whom he believed he knew.
He sees now that she learned the lessons of betrayal, learned them down to the marrow of her bones.
There is no apology Oak can give that could be believed, no way to explain. Not anymore.
Oak feels something snap inside him. He draws his sword.
“Don’t be foolish,” Randalin says with a frown. “This is all for you.”
There is a familiar roaring in Oak’s ears, and this time he gives in to it eagerly. His limbs move, but he feels as if he’s watching himself from far away.