Page 24 of A Legacy of Poison and Lies

Holt pressed a hand to his forehead, dragged it through his hair and rolled onto his back again. “Mae will use anything to get what she wants. Anyone.”

A weight settled in the back of Zylah’s throat. “She usedyou?”

“I was young. And naïve.” He pushed out a breath, staring at the ceiling. “Too young.”

Zylah didn’t know how to respond to that. She picked at a piece of lint on the bedsheet, willing her cheeks not to burn as anger rose from her chest.

It turned her stomach to know he’d been taken advantage of by someone who knew better. And he’d shared so little of himself in the past. That he’d shared this piece of him… she tucked it away for another time.

He met her gaze again. “When I was old enough to realise, I called it off. But Mae doesn’t like to be denied the things she wants.”

Zylah thought of the clawed rings on Mae’s fingers, of how tightly she’d keep hold of what she coveted, willing her anger to diminish. Though Mae seemed young and beautiful, something about the way she held herself, the way she moved, told Zylah she was older than Holt. Much older. Powerful, too.

Holt loosed a breath. “I think you might be right. I think at some point or another, she worked with Marcus. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

Because she was a target. Because she was a danger to him, and to everyone in this court.

“I should have known better,” Holt said when she didn’t reply. “Mae used to conduct a lot of her business in her rooms when she thought I was sleeping. I heard a lot of things I wasn’t supposed to.”

Zylah looked up at him again. “Maybe she wanted you to hear those things. Maybe she let enough of the things you overheard be a lie, so you wouldn’t know which was the truth.”

Holt raised an eyebrow. “You’re an expert at lying, are you?” The corner of his mouth tilted up. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Zylah didn’t bite. She couldn’t. “You knew Mae was here, back out in the forest. She was one of the allies you were seeking?

“I’d hoped she could tell me about the old magic Marcus has been using. But I need her archers, too. And I need her to send messages to the other courts that we’re coming—that much I can count on without having to ask, she always loved to gossip.”

Other courts.Something told her there would be time for that question later. “What’s so special about her archers?”

“Their bows are forged from arrenium, each of her archers is worth five men in a fight. But it’s been many years since I’ve seen Mae.”

And Maelissa didn’t strike Zylah as the kind of Fae to give things away for nothing. “What will you do?” Zylah asked.

“Remind her that she’s not the rightful Lady of this court.”

If Maelissa wasn’t the rightful Lady, then who? And what had Maelissa done to secure the title? Zylah listened to the sound of the waterfall, the scent of wet rock and plants reminding her of the botanical gardens back in Virian, only now it was mingled with Holt’s scent.

“Zylah?” He searched her eyes, strands of hair falling across his own.

“Yeah?”

“It was a long time ago.”

Zylah frowned. “It was still wrong of her.”

He loosed another sigh. “Mae has no concept of right and wrong. Only what needs to be done. For a long time, I thought I understood that. Even when my parents died. But when Adina…” His voice caught, and Zylah wanted to reach for him, to offer him some comfort for the sister he’d lost because of Marcus. But she knew if she did, it’d put a crack in the wall she’d built around her own heart.

“Sometimes I think it was my punishment for what was to come,” Holt said softly.

Zylah studied his face. The pinch of his eyebrows, the sharp angle of his jaw, and her eyes fell to his scar. “Your tithe?” she asked quietly.

“Yes.” He held her gaze, his eyes full of the same hollow emptiness she felt inside of her.

He’d told her back in Virian that he had no regard for his own life. That was before Raif’s death. This time, she did reach for him, rested her hand over his. “It isn’t your fault. Their deaths,” she said softly, his warmth seeping into her.

Holt’s fingers flexed through hers. “It isn’t yours, either.” His eyes dipped to their joined hands, then slowly back up to her face until they met hers, but again she saw her broken reflection and pulled her hand away.

Zylah closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see the way he must see her, didn’t want him to see the truth of how she felt inside. She turned back to the waterfall, murmuring goodnight. There was no doubt in her mind that none of this would have happened if he’d just let Arnir’s men find her that day in the springs. That so many would still be alive if it weren’t for her.

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