Page 7 of Fae Crown

“Milady shouldn’t be distracted, not if she wants to win. Not if she wants to keep her head.”

I sighed, then reined in my worries. I knew better. They were a waste of my energy when I should instead be plotting against the queen.

If only I could see the path that would deliver me from this moment to seeing the queen’s head separated from her body, spurting blood. For the first time since landing in Embermere, I’d be able to appreciate the sunshine out of a good execution.

The goblin was affixing pins that glittered with amethyst gems to the coronet of hair that wrapped the crown of my head.

“At least there won’t be actual decapitations at this trial,” I told her. “It’s not enough to feel safe, but it’s something.”

The goblin merelyhmmed. When I attempted to meet her eyes through the mirror, she fixed her attention on my updo.

“Goblin,” I pressed. “What is it?”

She patted my hair, seemingly satisfied with the arrangement that suggested I was wearing a crown when I wasn’t. If it had been Pru, I would have assumed she’d chosen this hairdo to insinuate I was the only one deserving to be crown princess. With this goblin, I couldn’t be sure.

Instead of replying, when even with how new I was to the ways of court I understood the servants were required to answer their charges, she plodded over to the armoire with the familiar flopping of dragon-like feet that made my heart pang with more thoughts of Pru. The she-goblin busied herself choosing my jewelry—a matching set of shiny yellow gold and amethyst gems the size of my fingertips—earrings, ring, and necklace.

“Goblin?”

Still avoiding my eyes, she returned to stand behind me. She was shorter than the already slight Pru, and had to climb onto the ready stepstool to drape the necklace around my neck.

“Shouldn’t you be putting on the jewelryafterI’m dressed?” I asked, eyeing her curiously, perhaps even suspiciously.

Her eyes widened as her stare snapped to mine. She fumbled to undo the clasp she’d just secured.

“Yes, yes, of course, milady.”

Before she could hop down from the stool to stow the necklace or whatever other action she might use as an excuse to avoid me, I spun and caught her hand.

Her dark, pupil-less eyes only widened all the more as she studied where our skin touched. Much like Pru’s, hers was ashen compared to the healthy sun-kissed tone of mine.

“What’s going on?” I asked, calming my tone despite my impatience—despite my urgent need for real answers in this forsaken place where fae werelikely to tell you a dozen lies before they’d utter a single truth.

The she-goblin blinked repeatedly, her eyes glimmering. Were those … tears she was keeping at bay?

Gently, I squeezed her hand. It was rough and callused. “You can talk to me, you know.”

She stared at me for several moments before shaking her head and pulling her hand from my grip. “I must finish readying milady. She mustn’t be late or it’ll be off with her head.”

It appeared the queen’s eagerness to behead at the slightest provocation was likely a theme with the goblins as a whole. And who could blame them?

Evenly, I said, “The magic of the trials protects me. The queen can’t kill me. Well, at least not till they’re over anyway. I’m sure she’ll be counting down the minutes till the magic’s up.” My laughter was dark.

With the she-goblin perched on the stepstool, her face lined up with mine. When she gulped, her throat visibly bobbed.

Atop my velvet stool, I slid nearer to her. Once more, she studied our closeness. This time, I didn’t touch her.

“I don’t know if Pru told any of you?—”

“Pru?”

“The goblin who attends me when she’s at court. The one who?—”

“Hasn’t returned from the Sorumbra.”

I felt my eyes grow heavier. “Yes.”

“The goblin’s name isn’t Pru.”

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