Page 132 of The Witch Queen

“Nothing comes without a cost,” I allow. “But think of what you’ll gain. With Malum, you’ll have more power than you ever dreamed. So much more than just coven magic. I could give that to you.”

She could let me. Choose me. Some desperate part of me hopes that she’ll do exactly that. That she willfinallyreach for me. Want me.

“My magic is part of me,” Jacquetta replies. “You can’t ask me to change it. And I wouldn’t even if you did.”

Another rejection, then.

What else did you expect?that hideous voice taunts.

“You’re asking the same thing of me,” I retort. “Worse, you want meto give up my abilities entirely. Abandon everything I’ve built. All so the covens can—”

“You think you’re so different from them?” she throws back. “What about this?”

She roots through a pile of books and yanks one out. Every muscle in my body freezes. It’s the collection of Diviner prophecies.

“How many times have you read this?” she asks, showing me Aphelia’s words. “Quite a lot by the look of things.”

“That’s none of your concern,” I grind out.

“And why is ityourconcern, Ayleth?” she goes on, brandishing the book. “Why do you care about the words of a dead witch—one who led the same covens you claim to hate? Why are you so obsessed with being queen? You may have shattered the Bloodstones, but they’re still controlling your life. So are the Heirs.”

Shame burns in my cheeks. I seal it off, leaning into anger instead. I let it fill me up. Thread through my spine like steel. Shadows mass around me, eager to be used.

I snatch the book from Jacquetta’s hands.

“Iamthe queen,” I seethe. “And if you’re too much of a fool to accept what I’m offering you, that’s fine. But as you feel your power wither away, know that it was your own fault. That you had the opportunity to become something greater and you turned your nose up at it. All because it came from me.”

Her blue eyes burn impossibly brighter. “Is that what you think you are?Greaterthan us? Better? Thatthingis going to come back here and rip you apart and it’s because ofyou. The princess was right—what you did brought it here.”

My bloodroils.

“I don’t care if the creature tears this palace down with her bare hands,” I hiss, leaning in. “I will not be sacrificing my own gift. Not for you or for anyone else.”

Jacquetta just stands there for a few moments, the fire crackling in the silence.

“Then enjoy your crown, Ayleth,” she says at last. “Soon enough, it will be all you have left.”

With that, she makes for the door to the servants’ passages. I let her go, my anger burning hotter than the flames in the hearth. Shadows swarm around me and I open the book again, running my fingertips over the faded words of the prophecy.

A beating heart must she drown, if she is to wear the crimson crown.

I buried my own heart long ago. And I should have known better than to let Jacquetta, or anyone else, dig it from its grave.

—

I dump another pile of journals onto the table in Ignatius’s lair the next evening. Blodwyn looks up, pulling her own neat pile aside as mine spills everywhere.

“Have those books done something to personally offend you?” she asks.

I don’t bother to answer as I plop into my chair and drag a volume toward me. It’s yet another of Ignatius’s journals. But my nerves are so raw that even the sight of the High Priest’s handwriting makes me cringe. I slam it closed again and shove it away.

“Really,” Blodwyn says. “Is something wrong? And where’s Jacquetta?”

Of course she would ask about her. The other witch is probably still sulking in the kitchens, which is fine with me. Shade was right—she can’t be trusted. I haven’t yet called my Huntsman back, but I’m running out of reasons not to do so.

Nearby shadows lengthen, as if urging me on.

“I don’t know,” I say tightly.