Page 54 of Fae Champion

A notably stocky feethle, when they were usually dangerously lithe, emerged from among the revelers to trot over to Sandor. When the feethle rounded his body to face him, the man jerked his head back, alarmed.

From beside him, within lashing distance of that set of ferocious teeth, I held my breath. The laughter died down as we collectively waited to see what the creature would do.

The feethle’s fur was a thick, shimmering silver that glimmered beneath the overhead lighting. The changeling stretched upward … and licked the dried blood that had pooled at one side of Sandor’s mouth. Again and again, that rough tongue lapped at his mouth and cheek, before doing the same on the other side.

I couldn’t decide whether the feethle was trying to do Sandor a dubious favor or whether it was hungry for blood. When the queen chuckled, I settled on the latter.

“Come, my pet. I’ll get you proper blood,” she crooned to the feethle, and a goblin I hadn’t noticed suddenly became visible standing against the wallbehind the dais and scuttled off, presumably to secure said ichor.

“I don’t want you to become tainted with the blood of a traitor,” the queen continued while the feethle trotted over to her side and wedged itself between the queen and king, sitting regally.

While the queen ran a hand along the feethle’s back, she ordered, “Bring out Finnian.”

My breath hitched noticeably in my throat, and she glanced at me. But then Finnian sauntered through an open archway and stood on the other side of Sandor.

His stance projected confidence and complicity—not with Sandor or even with me, but with the queen.

Had Finnian helped me escape only to betray me? I wasn’t the only one at risk. Finnian could point out Rush, Hiroshi, West, Ryder, Roan,andReed—possibly even Pru. If his involvement had been a ruse to catch me in a trap of his or the queen’s making, I was done for. He’d wipe out every person willing to help me in any capacity in one fell swoop.

I risked a glance at him, and then at Rush and the other drakes, but the men appeared more at ease in front of the dais than they’d been helping me escape. The drakes, at least, were incredible actors. Had I not heard them speak of their desire to bring down the tyrant queen myself, I wouldn’t have believed it.

More dread settled in the pit of my stomach. If the men were this good at convincing the queen of their innocence, who was to say they were genuine with me?An outsider not just to this court, but to Embermere and the larger mirror world.

Every growly, seductive word from Rush’s lips might have been part of his act, nothing more than him carrying out his duty as a spy to the crown.

The goblin tiptoed around the dais and slipped a silver bowl filled with blood in front of the feethle, who snarled at the servant when he didn’t retreat fast enough before shoving its face into the bowl, lapping loudly. Face more ashen than it was moments before, the goblin tiptoed back off the dais and all but ran toward the wall, where I watched as the blank patch he stood against camouflaged his presence.

“Finnian,” the queen announced so everyone would hear, “share with the court what you told me about Sandor. Denounce him and his despicable actions.”

Finnian, the fae with eyes I’d once believed held kindness, dipped his head at her in easy agreement. “Of course, Your Majesty, whatever you desire. Earlier today I discovered that Sandor had located the prisoner Elowyn in the human dungeon and proceeded to release her from her captivity without Her Majesty’s permission. Of course, I knew it was imperative that I notify you at once, Your Highness.”

The queen smiled her approval. Meanwhile, I feared I might retch. This same man had smoothed ointment on my arrow wounds and sped up my healing.

Sandor glowered up at Finnian, decrying hisblatant treachery. Finnian didn’t so much as glance his way, as if the traitor no longer deserved his attention.

“I’ll remember your loyalty, Finnian,” the queen said while I wanted to spin around, shake West, and demand he tell me if he’d been a part of this. It was West’s job to alter whatever magical traces my release left behind so it would become believable that I’d escaped on my own. Had he and Finnian concocted this plan together? Or would the queen accept Finnian’s word without proof?

“Your Majesty is both gracious and generous,” Finnian was saying.

I might truly be sick…

The queen nodded her acknowledgment before commanding him. “Take the traitor to the dungeon, thefaedungeon,” she added with a quick glare at Rush. “Exact whatever punishment on him you think is appropriate for a betrayal of your queen.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. No punishment is sufficient for that sin.”

She smiled demurely, the expression as foreign on her face as charity might have been. “Exactly.”

Finnian wouldn’t be able to stop until Sandor was a wrecked bundle of bloody pulp, sinew, and bones, and the queen damn well knew it. So did the rest of the court, I imagined.

Sandor’s whimpering had faded out, and now he slumped into himself, shoulders rounded, head hanging heavily.

“I…” The one soft word slipped out when I hadn’t meant to say anything aloud. I hadn’t even completed the thought in my mind. The horror of this woman’s court was too great for me, and yet not for everyone else it seemed. This was, after all, supposed to be a party to celebrate all the violence the Gladius Probatio delivered for its hungry audience.

Like a hawk, the queen’s eyes pinned on me. Beside her, the king squirmed in his seat.

“Yes?” she asked. “Did you wish to say something, Elowyn?” Her voice was taunting, attempting to diminish me, and possibly succeeding.

Led by Ivar and Braque, several courtiers snickered on cue. Dashiell, who’d appeared behind the king’s throne, clutched it with white-knuckled hands bedecked in silver rings and a scowl of disapproval he dared likely only because the queen wasn’t looking.

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