Page 175 of Dukes of Peril

All of the mirth falls out of me like a boulder. It’s strange that it should be like that. Queens against Queens. It’s the reason I find the strength to turn to Verity and say, “I think you should tell Story what you told me yesterday.”

Verity’s eyes widen, the side glance she gives Story a confirmation that she doesn’t trust her the way I do. At least not yet. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

I wipe my chin and rest the napkin next to my plate. “Do you know what one of the last things my father said to me was?”

She looks between me and Story. “I have no idea.”

Gesturing out the window, to the boundaries, I explain, “He told me to look around. That there are no Queens around for very long. That we’re given to the Royal men to keep them in line until they don’t need us anymore.” I exhale, shoulders sinking. “The sad thing is, he wasn’t wrong. My mother. Sy’s mother. Killian’s mother. Hell, probably evenyourmother. They were toys.”

Story clears her throat. “But Lavinia and I aren’t willing to be expendable. Not anymore.”

Placing my hand over Verity’s, I duck in close to tell her, “Story helped me when no one else could. She stuck her neck out for me and Sy when Saul sent his goons to jump us. She didn’t have to do that, and I’ve learned to trust her.” I lower my voice. “I think you should trust her, too.”

Verity doesn’t react right away. She looks down at her wringing hands and thinks about it, which is something I like about her. This isn’t a girl who was next in line for Duchess because of her blood. She has a cool head for conflict.

When her mind is made up, she unzips her purse and takes out the invitation, showing it to Story. She knows what it says already. I told her. We needed to come up with a plan, but there’s no lack of surprise when she reads the invitation for herself.

Story gapes at the card inside. “Wow, so they’ve asked you to, what? Audition? For Princess?”

Verity shrugs. “We all know Ashby picks the Princess this time around. If it is an audition, then he’s the one they’d all be bowing and scraping for.” Her face screws up at the thought. “No, thanks.”

Story and I share a look. That’d explain the conflict. Princess is the most coveted Royal position in Forsyth for a woman. It’s not all just being their baby factory. The Princess is known to be pampered and spoiled, set up for life. Less known are the women like Autumn, who get spit back out.

Story wonders, “And he wants you to be a part of it. Why?”

“That’s the question, right?” Verity pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. Her nails are perfectly manicured.

“He saw you that night at the gym,” I say, remembering her being cornered by Wicker. “Maybe he got a good look at you and liked what he saw.”

The words alone are enough to make my skin crawl, but it makes sense. Verity just has that look about her. She wears makeup that’s subtle but striking. Her clothes cover enough to be presentable but show just enough skin to make a guy wonder what she’s hiding underneath. She’s been raised for this role–house girl. Ashby’s not stupid enough not to see it himself.

And, like every other King, he wants what he can’t have.

Taking a breath, Story says, “We think you should do it,” and Verity’s head snaps back in surprise.

“What?” Her eyes flit wildly between us. “Why?”

I glower at Story for a moment–the plan had really been to break it to her a little more tactfully. “My point before was that things are changing in Forsyth, Verity.”

Story nods along. “And this may be our only chance to get in the double doors of the purple palace.”

“Ourchance?” She looks between us, comprehension dawning on her features. “You want a spy.”

She’s not wrong. The idea came to me last night, up on the belfry. For all the trouble the bells have caused, I love being up there to hear them, the evidence of what I’ve built here ringing out like a physical force over the landscape.

I push my plate away. “Not just for me and Story, but for our Kings–Killian and Sy. Nick didn’t just spend two years in South Side causing trouble.” Snorting, Story and I lock eyes. “Well, notonlycausing trouble. He stuck around, waited until the right time to make a move, and claimed his title. Then he leveraged that trust with Killian to get me out of there.” I reach across the table and touch Story’s cuff, running my finger over the gold skull. “Every move we make is methodical. Tactical. And it’s about more than just surviving, Verity.” I look over, holding her stare. “It’s about changing this place and how it works against us.”

Story raises her chin. “It’s about seeing two Queens having lunch and not wondering why they’re friendly. It’s about–”

“Sisterhood,” I cut in, grinning.

Verity takes this in with a hard inhale, and we give her a moment. “But what if I don't make the cut?”

Story leans forward. “They invited you for a reason, Verity. Like Lav said, every move is methodical. Ashby sent you that invitation for a reason, and we need to know why.”

Verity gives an uncomfortable laugh. “You have a lot of faith in a rejected South Side Duchess.”

“You're not a reject,” I stress, grabbing her hand. “You’re a trained assassin. Sexy. Smart. A virgin–”

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