Page 33 of Royal Ransom

I could have searched my mind for the answer, but honestly, we didn’t have time for that much introspection. I wanted to get Maverick out of the ice coffin as soon as possible. The cloth we’d piled on top of it would only hide him for so long.

“A celebration of a member of the royal family—a birthday, anniversary, or other royal occasion. There’s a schedule for who hosts each season. We were unlucky enough to stumble on Priss’ turn.”

I frowned. “Is there another member of the royal family who shares a birthday with her?”

Basil thought for a moment and then paled. “Janara.”

I considered it and swore under my breath. This was moving faster than I’d planned. I’d banked on having a couple of days to settle myself before attempting a palace coup. Now I was in a building with the wicked witch, and only one of us knew it. That had its advantages. There would also be fewer troops guarding her here. Enough to kill me, sure, but Janara hadn’t expected me to attack her here. She’d have her eyes on the palace.

“It doesn’t change the goal, just our approach,” I said. “Do you know a quiet place where we can plot?”

Basil smiled faintly. “I know just the place, actually.”

***

Basil rapped on a plain oak door three times and stepped back to wait. It didn’t take long for someone to answer. A tall brunette woman opened the door. The color of her hair indicated she was at least half-human; you didn’t get many deep browns in Winter. The wrinkles on her face were my next clue. The long lines gave her an aged elegance that was both comforting and mesmerizing. She appeared to be a stunning fifty years old with the iciest blue eyes I’d ever seen. My illusory self wished she’d aged half as gracefully as this woman had before mysudden transformation. Silver decorated her collarbones and the corners of her eyes, complementing the blue-gray plumage that covered her front like a dress. If I glanced down, I was half-convinced I’d see the clawed foot of a bird.

Wow,I thought idly.I even get to see an angel before I die on this idiotic suicide mission we’re on.

Her eyes roved over me speculatively and hardened when they landed on Basil. She recognized him in disguise. Hopefully, she’d be the only one. Maybe this was the illusion he’d worn to meet my mother.

“Now?” she hissed. “You choosenowof all times to return? The Queen is visiting! Get out! Come see Priss in a few days.”

“I can’t, Netty. We need your help,” he replied without missing a beat, gesturing to me. She didn’t blink in surprise; she just gave me another searching look. So, she wasn’t seeing through his magic. Basil had reused the disguise.

“If Janara finds out you’re here and that I helped you, she will pluck me and serve me at her next Yule feast! Get out!”

Basil didn’t listen. He barged into the room without another word and helped me settle onto a loveseat. I was beginning to feel dizzy, overwhelmed by the enormity of what I was about to attempt.

I’d taken lives before; it was hard not to when you were chasing down rapists and murderers daily. Those types rarely went quietly. But I’d never relished taking a life, and I’d never done so in cold blood. What I was going to attempt wasn’t self-defense; it was cold, calculated murder.

“You’re insane!” The woman continued. “You just burst in here after years and start making demands of me? I don’t think so,” Netty snapped at Basil. “You’d better—”

Basil swung around and barked, “This. Is. Not. The. Time.”

I expected her to argue. I would have if he’d taken that tone with me. We were in the wrong, and I would have let him have it.But Netty seemed intimidated by Basil and held her tongue.

Instead, she rolled her eyes and paced a few steps away, muttering, “He comes to my house during the Festivus... with a bloodied half-elf, no less... Should’ve kicked them both out...” She cut herself off with an irritated shake of her head.

So my disguise was holding. Good. Basil looked me over, grimacing when he saw a bit of blood seeping through a leg of my pants. It stood out like lurid paint against the silver.

“The yeti got closer to you than I thought,” he sighed, shaking his head.

With deft fingers, Basil unlatched the belt that cinched my pants tight around the waist. He pulled away the offending material and examined the cut on the outer curve of my thigh. It should have made me self-conscious, but there was no heat in his gaze. It was the sterile stare of a doctor—professional, no matter how many articles of clothing came off.

“I don’t have the ingredients I need to heal this directly,” he muttered. “Your aunt might have some in her private stores, but we’d have to kill her to get at them. For now, I’m going to close this with an Autumn mesh. It won’t be comfortable, but it should stop the bleeding.”

“Aunt?” Nettie interjected as she narrowed her eyes on me. She circled us now, her wings folded across her back rustling with nerves. “Hexes and Hoarfrost, Basil! Who is this woman? Why in the gods’ blood did you think it was a good idea to come back here, now of all times? Priss already said she didn’t want to see you!”

Ah, so this was about more than putting his daughter on the throne. He’d been looking for a chance to worm his way back into his daughter’s life. Framed that way, his actions seemed a little less noble. I knew a thing or two about parents with high standards.

“Netty, meet Princess Olwen. She prefers to be called‘Taliyah’ though. Forgive her appearance and injuries. We weren’t expecting to be ambushed at the castle. And as for your other accusations: I didn’t come here to upset Priss. I came to help her in her quest to unseat Janara. Little did we know she’d be so close at hand.”

Netty stared at me in shock, taking in the appearance the potion had temporarily given me. I’d caught a glimpse in the mirror. I looked like a wizened elf, clearly a faerie but with too much human blood to remain untouched by the cold. I looked short and hunched. Not a threat to anyone. She stared at me as though she could strip away the ancient outer layer and see who lay beneath. And then she must have done exactly that because she took a step back and collapsed, trembling, at a small, unvarnished table. Most things in her quarters seemed to be old or shabby. Was this beautiful woman a servant?

“Taliyah, this is Priss’s governess.”

The introduction seemed to bring Netty back to herself. She sat up a little straighter and schooled her expression. When she glowered at Basil, I could see she was a teacher of some kind. Only teachers could walk that thin line between authority and absolute fear.

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