Page 44 of The Witch Queen

She sticks out her hand and I take it, mentally trying to place her family.

“Never heard of us?” Verity asks, evidently reading my expression. “That’s all right. We’re one of the more recent appointments to court. Which is why people likeLady Isabelcan’t stand us. We’re toocommonfor her taste.”

Isabel and the others have retreated to the area set up with refreshments. A handful of servants fusses around her, attempting to repair the damage to her gown.

“Evidently, she doesn’t thinkIdeserve it, either,” I comment.

“Don’t pay her any mind,” Verity says. “It’s the best way to insult her. Sheadoresit when people are thinking about her.”

My lips twitch in a smile. Verity lifts her mallet and waggles her eyebrows at me. “As for us—what do you say we keep hitting things?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

—

For the next half hour or so, Verity and I invent our own game. Instead of the wickets, we aim for the ice sculptures, tables of food, or even clusters of courtiers. It goes against every one of Aunt Margaret’s lessons regarding propriety and etiquette, but I don’t care. Not tonight.

“So,” Verity starts, after I knock the head off one of the ice dragons, “is there a reason you’re mutilating the decorations, or is this your way of threatening the competition?”

I laugh again. If only it were so easy to intimidate anyone. But I hesitate before answering. I don’t generally trust courtiers—especially not anyone here. Not after so many of them sided with Ayleth. But Verity strikes me as being different. Perhaps even like someone Mother would approve of. As much as I trust Aunt Margaret, it would be nice to have a young woman my own age to confide in.

“I had an argument,” I admit. “With…”

My attention drifts to where Ayleth is standing with a few courtiers. Would that I could send one of these balls soaring inherdirection.

“Ah,” Verity comments, noticing. “Thequeen.Was it about herdecision to open the trials? I don’t blame you for being upset. It must have been a shock.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” I mutter. “But I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised.”

“You two don’t get along?” Verity asks.

“We used to. Until she married my father.” And ruined my entire life. Wood cracks as I send another ball flying.

“I’m sorry,” Verity says and she sounds like she means it. “Family can be difficult. Most of mine doesn’t even speak to me anymore—or my mother.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re all a kettle of vultures,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “When my grandfather died, his lands and titles should have gone to my uncle—even though Mother is older than him. But then the laws changed, allowing women to inherit in their own right. And so Grandfather’s fortune came to us instead. The others were furious. Now we never hear from them. No great loss, if you ask me, but it saddens Mother sometimes.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say. But then my mind snags on a particular detail in her story. “Wait…you said the laws changed? Papa did that?”

“Oh, not him,” she clarifies. “By order of the queen.”

I blink, genuinely taken aback. “Ayleth?Are you certain?”

“Definitely. My uncle took the case to the queen herself, to petition her to overturn the decision. And she, in front of everyone, banished him from court. You should have seen the look on his face.”

She does some exaggerated and hilarious version of it, but I’m too focused on what she’s saying to laugh. Mother was always trying to convince Papa to rewrite the inheritance laws. Why hadAylethbeen the one to do it? And why hadn’t she mentioned it in her letters?

“Here,” Verity says, toeing a ball toward me. “It’s your go.”

I return my focus to the game. Lord Warbeck lingers with a cluster of other men near a table of food. Perhaps I’m not bold enough to aimfor Ayleth, butthatman is a different matter. I set up my shot. But just as I begin to swing my mallet, a bird swoops low, diving close enough that the air from its wings brushes my face. I jerk backward, sending the ball careening in the wrong direction.

“Are you all right?” Verity asks, steadying me before I fall. “That bird must be mad.”

My pulse pounds in my ears as I watch the creature land on a nearby sculpture. Another crow. Just like the one that flew into the window of my chambers.

Looking for you,a small voice in the back of my mind whispers.