Page 165 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

He was there at the Nothril Court when the Ivy Mask last struck. I quickly scan the next list.Human Tailor of Valehaven.Then the next. And the next.

Every single one.

“There you are.” I run my finger over the dried ink. The Ivy Mask’s accomplice is the Valehaven tailor. The thrill of the discovery pulses through my blood, temporarily relieving my aching heart. I pen a quick message and get to my feet.

Now I won’t only know when the Ivy Mask is in Caphryl Wood. I will know exactly what Court he is going to strike before he gets there. The chase hums in my bones. This is just the break I needed after . . .everything. This is something concrete and tangible. Something I can lay hold of and claim.

Something that will help me catch the Ivy Mask before Pelarusa is forced to join me.

“Edvear!” I call, leaving my cloak behind and strapping both of my broadswords over my back. I’d rather leave without Kat seeing me this way, so I wait until my steward slips into my study.

Edvear bows and shuts the door when he sees the look on my face. He glances between me and my blades. “What can I do for you, my lord?”

“Please tell Lady Katherine that I will be gone until late this evening.” I must retrace my steps to every Court I have access to on this side of the Veil and give the notice to send an alert the moment the Valehaven tailor arrives.

“If she asks where you are, what shall I tell her?”

I shift my weight. “Tell her . . . that Lord Oliver invited me to join him fishing after checking on the troll.”

It’s not a lie—hedidsend an invitation to join him. One that I am refusing.

Edvear bows. “Yes, my lord.”

I dismiss him with my thanks. To avoid running into Kat, I climb out the window. I draw stronger on my glamour magic to conceal me until I’m safely away from any prying eyes. It sends pain shooting through my shoulders, but I ignore it. Soon enough, I’ll be back in my own world where such magic use won’t be more than a mere thought.

Itiseasiertomaintain a glamour this strong nearer the Wood. I keep myself completely invisible as I fly through the air and dive down past the hill.

The queen’s men have already arrived. It is a large company of her most elite warriors. They fill the valley, arranging themselves between enormous ripening fruits and vegetables, and face Ymer. The troll sits where he usually is, his back hunched, his rotted teeth bared toward the warriors, his hand gripping his club. He does not look like much of a threat beyond his monstrous size, and he is slow, but few humans know just how strong one of his blows is.

The people usually here are nowhere to be found—thankfully. Perhaps they scattered when they heard the warriors were coming.

As I watch, the queen arrives on a beautiful white horse. She wears a gown of rich green, with a train that covers the rump of the horse, and a tall crown of gold rests atop her head. Another twenty of her elite surround her as she approaches the troll.

She better not be attacking the troll instead of bidding him peacefully to leave.

I brace myself, drawing my sword silently.Don’t make me intervene.

Queen Vivienne rides her horse toward Ymer, who snarls at her approach. He gets to his feet, rising to his full height, and flexes his grip on his club.

“Who goes over yonder?” he booms. “Ymer will make cakes out of your teeth and eat them for dessert!”

The queen draws her horse to a halt. Fear flickers across her expression when she sees just how large and powerful this troll is.

Do not back down,I want to growl at her. I wish it was Kat who had this responsibility instead of the queen. She would not falter. She also would not have dragged this out so long.

The queen lifts her voice and calls across the field: “As the ruler of this land, I come to bid you, troll of Faerieland, to leave immediately!”

“Eh?” Ymer calls back. “Ymer hears not small woman on hornless unicorn!”

His voice carries where hers did not. I rake a hand down my face. This is going just about as well as I expected.

The queen, after a moment of hesitation, firms her brow and marches forward. At last, she is close enough to be heard—but not close enough that the troll’s club can find its mark.

“As the ruler of this land,” the queen shouts again, “I come to bid you, troll of Faerieland, to leave immediately!”

Ymer visibly stiffens at the disrespectful address. His ears flap at the flies buzzing around his head. He takes one step toward the queen. She pulls her horse back, her warriors rushing to create a barrier between her and the troll.

The troll gives a long sniff. Then his lumpy eyebrows draw together in a furious line. “Small woman on hornless unicorn tries totrickYmer the Indefatigable? Small woman on hornless unicornliesto Ymer the Indefatigable? Ymer knows you are not the ruler of this land! Only the true ruler of this land can bid Ymer to leave!”

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