“She’s a traitor of the realm,” the girl says. “She’s the reason everything smells like shit!”
What the hell?!
“Are you working alone?” Maven repeats as the fae soldiers take hold of the girl, her arms pinned behind her.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She tests the hold of the soldiers and the metal plates along their shoulders clank as they adjust their weight, pulling her back.
Not a yes. Not a no. Clever.
I want to hate her—she just tried to kill me—but I don’t think I can. There’s something about the girl that makes me want to know more. She’s shorter than I am, barely five feet. I can see the sharp points of her ears in the shadow of her hood. There’s a roughness to her that I admire, and I immediately think of Sam never backing down from a fight.
“Take her to the tower,” Maven instructs. “Two guards at her cell at all times until I say otherwise.”
“Yes, Your Royal Highness,” the man at the front says and gives a deep bow before turning with the others, carting the girl off.
“Well that was exciting!” Maven says, smiling wide.
“That’s not the word I’d use,” Arion counters, still clutching the broken arrow in hand.
“I see you still have excellent reflexes.” Maven pats Arion on the back roughly. “Let’s report our heroism to the queen. She’ll love it!”
He starts off with a bit of swagger in his step, as if he was the one who stopped the attempt on my life.
“Thank you.”
Arion frowns down at me. “Never thank a fae.”
“Even when they save your life?”
“Even then.”
“What about a brother?”
His frown deepens.
“Especially brothers,” he answers and follows Maven.
I watch the assassin disappear around a gate on the other side of the palace. She doesn’t fight the soldiers, almost as if she isn’t worried about being locked in a tower.
Almost as if she’s sure she’ll escape.
She’ll probably try to kill me again if she gets away. If this stupid collar wasn’t attached to my neck…
I yank on it again, but it’s useless. I’m just as much a prisoner here as the Autumn Court assassin.
Up close, it’s much easier to see what must have once been a grand palace.
There are still hints of it hidden somewhere beneath the dense overgrowth.
Tangled vines cover the entire left side of the palace, deep roots caught in the white stone, clawing their way up and around columns, hanging from archways that line a portico. More greenery covers the palace spires that soar up toward the sky.
There’s more color here than in the forest where we entered the fae realm. Pink and purple and blue flowers find purchase amongst the vines and moss, but it’s easy to see they’re suffering. Some of the stems are wilting, the leaves brown-spotted and laced with holes.
We enter into a courtyard where a cobblestone path forks in front of us, circling a reflection pool. Except the water is too mucky and thick with lily pads to see much of anything.
Maven takes the walkway to the left and several fae step aside, letting him pass as they bow and call out a greeting.
“Did you grow up here?” I ask Arion once I’ve caught up to him.