Page 80 of The Huntsman's Heart
“Where have you been?”
I keep my expression neutral as within my chest compulsion gives a strong tug. “In the Gloamwald, as you instructed.”
Her eyes narrow. “Where is my blood?”
“I have none. You called me back before I could collect any.”
“And yet the castle is apparently besieged with monsters.”
“Not ones with blood.”
“It is an inconvenience. It is little good calling monsters from the woods if we cannot harvest them. Dead things are good for nothing. You will have to go back into the woods. I am beginning to see wrinkles.”
I ignore her jibe. “Calling monsters?”
She lets out a harsh laugh, touching the charm at her neck which hangs beside the key to my phylactery. “Of course. What do you think has made certain there were always enough of them to harvest? I need you to get rid of whatever is causing these wights, but first, my blood.”
“And that is your priority? Not the townsfolk, not the kingdom?”
“Do you think I care what happens to the townsfolk?”
Hatred rises like bitter bile in my throat. The only saving grace is that she thinks the townsfolk are responsible for the wights walking the streets. “You do not care about anyone but yourself, do you? You might have called me to help them.”
She turns to me and her gaze is cold and calculating. She stands suddenly, pushing back her chair and clutching the bone pendant around her neck. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you were responsible for these walking dead.”
I consider my words carefully. “I am not the one responsible.”
She steps closer, and the chill in my bones aches in all my joints. “Tell me exactly what you have been doing and do not lie to me.”
Magic wrenches at me, sucking the air from my lungs until my voice comes out hoarse. I fight it as long as I can, trying to choose my words carefully. “Thinking…about how you die,” I force out.
She laughs. “Oh, but that’s not all, is it? Tell me everything.”
I’m bent over double, and the words come tumbling from me before I’m ready. “No. That’s not all…” My fists clench at my sides. I must protect Guin. “I also learned what true devotion and true love feels like.”
The queen’s face freezes into an icy mask of surprise for a moment as she straightens to her full height and glares at me. “And who taught you this?”
“One more beautiful and more of a queen than you could ever be,” I grit out.
Melantha’s nostrils flare. “Who?”
Before I can answer, the door to the dressing room behind her bursts open and Guin darts out, knife drawn. She was here all along! I hope she heard my words. She deserves them, but her being here puts her in danger, and now that I’ve revealed my secret, Melantha will most certainly take advantage.
She rushes at Melantha, but the queen dodges.
“Stop her!” Melantha shouts to me.
I fight it, but the magic propels me into motion. “I’m sorry, princess,” I whisper, grabbing for her.
She lunges, ducking out of my grip and toward Melantha, but instead of stabbing the queen, she snatches the cloth from the mirror behind her.
Melantha shrieks, snatching something from the dressing table and flinging it into Guin’s face. Guin stumbles back, wiping at her eyes.
“The mirror!” Guin shouts.
I look again, but all I can see is our reflections. I do not understand. And I’m having more and more difficulty fighting the queen’s command.
“Kill her!” screams Melantha.
