Page 221 of The Witch Queen

I see the duchess’s new heart has done nothing to alter her character. I look back at Blodwyn. She’s seated at the High Table. Her friend, Verity, is on one side of her. On the other, one of the lords is rambling on about something. Blodwyn catches my eye and makes a beleaguered expression. I wave back at her.

“She’s better than that,” I say.

“She is,” Margaret agrees, following my gaze. She straightens the pin on her bodice. “Better than all of us. I was a fool for not seeing it.”

“That makes two of us,” I murmur.

Another courtier peels himself away from the crowd. It’s Weston. He’s dressed in something similar to what he wore when Blodwyn first arrived—silk and ribbons, rings glittering on his fingers. He carries two wineglasses and hands one to Margaret.

“YourGraces,” he greets us, bowing low.

I manage a tight smile. Blodwyn bestowed the title on me when she named me one of her royal advisors, much to the grumbling of hercouncil. I accepted it, but only as a courtesy. It feels as natural as the crown did—not at all.

“Has the duchess shared our good news?” Weston asks, grinning. I shake my head. “We’re to bemarried.”

Married?I look from Weston to Margaret, who simply nods and shrugs.

“I…congratulations.”

“You see?” Weston stands up taller and puffs out his chest. “Itoldyou that I’d be a duke by the end of this visit.”

“Yes, yes,” Margaret says, patting his arm. “I was quite swept off my feet and unable to resist your charms. Now here—” She drains her wineglass and passes it to him. “Why don’t you go fetch me another of these?”

He plucks the glass from her hands and lifts it in salute. “It would be my pleasure, my futurebride.”

Weston grins again, the same proud look Nettle wears when she brings me a mouse, and bustles off into the crowd.

“You’re really going to marryhim?” I ask, jerking my chin in the direction he went.

“I don’t see why not,” she replies, bored. “He’s fun. Easily trained. And he’s devoted to me. Besides, after my last marriage, I like the idea of having the upper hand.”

I’ve never heard worse reasons to marry. But they’re certainly Margaret’s.

“He thinks he’s going to be a duke.”

“Oh, let him,” she says, waving me off. “It’s not doing any harm.”

I just laugh and shake my head. “So…is this theendof the visit?”

She arches an eyebrow. “Are you so eager to get rid of me?”

I don’t trust myself to answer that. Margaret just smiles.

“We haven’t been friends,” she says, guessing my thoughts. “How could we have been, I suppose? Both of us clawing for the same thing. For what it’s worth, you were a formidable opponent. I couldn’t have done any better myself.”

It’s a strange compliment, but I take it as high praise coming fromher. And it suddenly saddens me that it’s the first compliment Margaretcanmuster. Because scrabbling to survive is the only thing she understands.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, surprised at how much I mean it. “For what happened to you here. For how you were treated by your family and the court. I wish things had been different for you.”

“You know,” she says, thoughtful, “I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me before. And…I suppose I’m sorry for you, too.”

It’s not exactly an apology, but I accept it. I scan the hall again, spotting Sindony and the other witches. Jacquetta still isn’t among them.

“To answer your earlier question,” Margaret goes on. “Yes, I am leaving. Blodwyn asked for my help facilitating a new alliance with Darryn, and I’m happy to do it. What about you?”

This question again. I take a healthy swallow of wine.

“I haven’t decided yet.”