Page 89 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen
“I already know you didn’t.”
“How?”
He taps two fingers to my heart. “Your heartbeat is peaceful.”
A shiver rakes through me, and I tighten the covers around my frame. “Then why do I feel so empty?”
“Excellent question.”
“What’s the answer?” I plead.
He sways from his heels to his toes. “You’ve been lonely for decades,diamantay. Since your guy came along, you’ve felt connected to him. Even though you’re fighting it, you don’t feel quite so alone when he’s around.”
I meet his eyes. “What are you talking about? I’m not alone, I have you. And Seth’s notmyguy.”
Percy sits down fully and folds his hands in his lap. “You haven’t felt that sting of loneliness and despair in days. Not since Sethrainedinto our lives,” he says, doubling-down on bugging me, his eyes wrinkling at the corners.
I hold my forehead and shake my head at his stubbornness. “He’s not for me, Percy.”
“Maybe he’s theonlyone for you,” my Faeling replies softly. “Because of how Freya hated you, how badly she treated you, even as a kid. Because of everything that made youtoo muchfor other men. Seth’s seen all that, but he’s not afraid.”
I press the flesh of my palms to my eyes. “You gave me hell for accepting his offer.”
“I gave you hell because I could see how much you wanted to hurt him.” Percy lets the silence settle between us before adding, “What happened at dinner?”
I exhale slowly. “Alaric wants to force Tatiana into marriage. He offered to free us if I manage to get her to agree. He’ll even grant us passage to Zepharion so I can kill Luther.”
“How are you supposed to sway Tatiana’s heart without magic?”
“Well, I didn’t lead with that. But it gets worse. If I refuse to help him, Alaric could keep us here for as long as he wants.” Iplay with my braids, stroking them down in a nervous, restless fashion. “He’s the new Storm King.”
Percy’s eyes widen. “Bloody fucking hells.”
The next morningand afternoon is spent in lock-up, toying with the supplies Brel fetched for me and the ingredients from my backpack. I might not be able to carve forbidden arrows, but I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. Decades alongside Mabel taught me a lot, and Seth’s not entirely wrong when he calls me a witch.
Blood magic is not needed to brew a love potion.
A small blackened cauldron dangles from a rack above the fire, swaying in the heat. Dried damiana leaves coat my fingers with sap, their peppery aroma sticking to the roof of my mouth. The water comes to a boil, unspooling a tangle of scents.
“I should go and warn Seth,” Percy says. “Explain to him what’s happened.”
“I told you. I can’t risk you being found.”
I gather the next ingredients.
Red lotus for a pliable mind, angel trumpets for a lush, heady high, and wild tuberose to induce obsession. Add a few drops of honey to sweeten the taste, and some hair Percy stole from Alaric’s pillow, and voilà!
Onefall-for-the-villainflask, ready to serve.
“Seth needs to know that Alaric is the new king,” Percy insists.
“Then you’ll tell him tonight,afterthe ball.”
The mixture simmers into a thick, fragrant steam that curls into my hair and clothes.
I bottle a dose. “Here. Its effect should last about a day, enough for Alaric to be satisfied. If everything goes according to plan, he’ll never suspect that I used a cheap trick, and not my magic, to win over his bride.”
Percy sticks out his tongue, retching like he swallowed a handful of hair. “I can’t stomach the scent.”
