Page 138 of The Witch Queen

A hollow laugh climbs up my throat. “You think she wants peace? Where was thispeaceyears ago? Jacquetta is acting on her own plans. She always is.”

“And what ofyourplans?” Blodwyn throws back at me. “You said that you wanted anhonestway forward. Now you’re forcing Jacquetta to lie and scheme just so you can win a senseless war? One fought over—what was it,differing ideas?”

Nettle flicks her tail at me, reproachful. I ignore her.

“I do want to win the war,” I go on. “Because Jacquetta, along with all the other witches, used and discarded me. All they want is to take awaymypower so that they can keep their own.”

“Power,” Blodwyn spits the word. “Is that allanyonecares about?”

“Yes!” I all but shout. Malum kicks up behind my sternum, the shadows of the room swelling. “Power is the only thing that matters,Blodwyn. Surely you’ve seen that by now. You have your pretty ideals of what the world should be, but that’s all they are—imaginings. And youdon’t understand what my life was like before I came here. I will not be going back there. Not for Jacquetta or anyone else.”

As soon as the words leave my lips, I know they’re a mistake. Blodwyn looks at me like she’s never seen me before.

“So you’re just going to throw her away,” she says, the shock on her face hardening to anger. “For acrown? Is that what you’ll do to me, too?”

Silence hums between us. I tell myself to take it back. Salvage whatever is left between us. But the words simply don’t come. Blodwyn reads the truth on my face.

“I see,” she says. “Well at least now I know what you really are.”

“Wait…” I call.

But it’s too late. The princess storms off, slamming the door behind her. Nettle meows at me, her golden eyes filled with disappointment.

And I have never felt more like a monster.

Chapter Forty-One

Ayleth

As soon as dawn breaks, Jacquetta is escorted outside to summon a raven.

Despite the early hour, most of the court is pressed together on the balconies or windows of the palace, eager to get a glimpse of the witch. No fewer than seven guards cluster around her, each armed with iron weapons, as if Jacquetta were an ogre from one of Willa’s stories. I stand at the back of the small party, my shadows ready to spring if Jacquetta decides to betray me.

But the other witch does as she’s instructed. Head held high, she summons the bird and recites the words of the council’s carefully tailored message: She tells the Heirs that she can lure me to meet them. That they can use me as a piece in their game. It will work. Because it’s exactly what Jacquetta did to me the last time she came to the palace. But the irony of the situation doesn’t give me the satisfaction I crave. Instead, as I watch the raven sail away, Blodwyn’s words from last night slink through my mind:

You’re just going to throw her away? For acrown?

Jacquetta does not look at me once.

—

The covens’ answer arrives sooner than I expected. The raven is spotted the following afternoon, carrying Selene’s response: she agrees to meet at an abandoned Sanctum about a day’s ride from the palace. The court absorbs this news like one of the elaborate, spun-sugar desserts served at a feast. Nearly everyone is convinced that the witches’ capture signals the end of the war. Weston is already planning a victory party. I should be celebrating with them, if for no other reason than because, as Margaret has decided to use the witches in the final challenge, the trials are temporarily halted. With any luck, they’ll never be reinstated. And in a few days’ time, I’ll have the Heirs at the palace, kneeling before me at long last. I’ll have finallywon.

Alone in my chambers, I lift the crown from its box and run my fingertips along the jagged facets of the Bloodstones. Soon enough, these stones will hold the final dregs of the witches’ magic. This realm will belong solely to Malum. My own power will be strong enough to send the lost princess back to her grave. To be the queen the prophecy promised. Thetruequeen. Malum swells in my chest, as if in anticipation. This is what I wanted. What I destroyed everything to achieve.

Then why I do feel so empty?

“Ayleth?”

My own name jolts me into the present. I put the crown back in its box as Fitz trots into the chamber, Joan following behind him. Damn everything. I’d been doing my best to avoid her since the throne room. Blodwyn as well. But I suppose I knew this was coming.

“So,” Joan begins coolly. “How long has Jacquetta been here?”

There’s no point in lying to her now.

“She was captured at the hunt,” I admit. “I was using her to help me dig up information about the duchess.”

Joan’s eyebrows lift, piecing this together. “Soshe’sthe reason you said you had Margaret under control?”