Page 23 of Barbi and the Villain

What if this isn’t a book world, but instead it’s a real world somewhere in the universe? What if whoever wrote the book series had some knowledge of the events but not enough to write an accurate account?

But that means that all the information I have is useless. I have no way of knowing what’s true and what isn’t anymore, and spouting nonsense will not gain me any favors at the court.

Until now, I’ve been betting on the fact that I have intimate knowledge of the Five—well, four now—that might make them more inclined to help me. But since I can no longer differentiate between fact and fiction, I need to reconsider my strategy.

“There it is!” Willy exclaims a while later.

Glancing at where he’s pointing, I note an imposing fortress, the walls as high as the sky. Magical runes swirl around the perimeter in orange and blue flashes of light, creating a protective barrier. It’s so powerful, even birds avoid it, flying parallel to the barrier.

I take a deep breath, a sliver of panic washing through me.

In less than half an hour, we will reach the gates of the fortress and enter the Capital. It won’t be much longer until we reach the castle and attend the feast presided by Lady Jocelyn.

The clock is ticking, and I have to make up my mind fast regarding what version of events I’ll present in front of the King and Queen.

Because if I mess up…

The plague is the last thing I’ll have to worry about.

5

The grand hall is bustling with noise. The soldiers are raising their glasses and toasting to celebrate the defeat of the Dark One and the beginning of a new era.

Our welcome into the Capital was impressive. As soon as people saw our entourage, they threw flowers at us, chanting the hymn of Kiya and wishing us health for an eternity.

The streets had cleared so we could make our way to the palace where we had immediately been sent off to the grand dining hall. They even took our horses to feed and clean them.

I could not imagine a better welcome. It’s evident that the people of Akkaya cherish the army and celebrate them for their brave deeds, especially after such a dark time.

But it’s especially now that the Dark One is dead, everyone is ready to party and forget about all the death and gloom still existent beyond the Capital’s walls.

“Let me get that.” I smile at one of the servers as I pick up a large jug of mead. Big mistake. I almost topple it over as I wobble on my feet, seeking some balance. Damn it! This is too heavy.

I manage to haul it to the edge of the hall, where I put it down for a moment to seemingly—and accurately—get my bearings together. I pretend to breathe harshly as I fiddle with the pink root in my pocket, squishing it between my fingers before I stealthily drop it in the jug.

Everyone is too busy to pay attention to me, especially as some conflicts arise between soldiers. With so much testosterone in the room, it’s no wonder they’d eventually do a dick measuring contest.

I linger around for a few more minutes to make sure the juice from the pink root has mixed with the mead before I grab it once more and head to our table.

“Thank you everyone for bringing me here. You have my undying gratitude,” I address the soldiers as I pour each a cup, one by one. Luckily, each unit has its own table, so the damage will be localized. I do feel bad about the other soldiers who are innocent victims in all of this, but I also don’t want to get myself killed anytime soon.

My lips are stretched in a perpetual smile as I hand Ivan his full glass. To my surprise, he barely glances at me. He’s busy arguing with another soldier. He angrily downs the glass, and I’m quick to replenish it.

Now it’s a waiting game.

I take my seat at the end of the table and sneak PomPom some food while I slowly pick at my own.

My stomach growls in protest.

I’m hungry. I really am. But how can I eat when my fate is currently hanging in balance? I won’t be able to swallow anything until I see Ivan passed out.

The moments trickle by and my anxiety mounts.

A loud cheer erupts in the hall, followed by a chant.

“Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen!”

Fuck.

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