Page 39 of Lady of the Nightmares

My eyes widened. “But why?”

“My mother and Queen Celia shared the same grandparents, which makes me, and the entire governing family of Overcast, for that matter, too closely related to the house to be ignored. If Bael told you of the curse, he will have told you that any one of us could destroy all the others, and that was their fear when I discovered my mate at our Solstice celebration two years ago.”

I gaped at her reflection, but she didn’t look up to meet my gaze. I couldn’t tell, but I suspected that she was crying again. Every time I’d seen Thalia since coming here, she’d looked as if she’d just recently been crying, and I supposed this explained why.

“So, what did they do to him?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

She shook her head. “Nothing. I have never revealed the name of who it was, but my mother knew immediately that something was wrong. She’d already been planning for several years to use mine and my brother’s marriages to gain favor for Overcast. We’re the smallest province and rely entirely on the Everlast army to protect us from Aftermath, so we need the families to remain connected. The moment she realized that she might have leverage with which to send me directly to the capital, she sent a message heavily implying that unless I was taken away, my bonding would destroy us all.”

She’d finished braiding, her hands still in my hair, but neither of us moved.

“I’m sorry,” I said flatly, not knowing what else to say.

She pursed her lips. “Are you really? That’s a very human thing to say, you know. To express sorrow for someone else’s sadness.”

“Do you not feel sorry when others are hurting, then?” I asked.

She thought about it. “I suppose, but I would not say so. “To give someone else knowledge that you have affected them gives them power over you.”

That sounded like a miserable way to live and was yet another reason why I wanted never to dip too far into thinking like the Fae. “I am sorry, though, that this happened to you.”

“Thank you,” she replied stiffly.

“But how did you switch from Scion to Gwydion?” I asked, hoping to move on from the awkward silence that fell around us.

To my relief, she laughed. “I asked to. Believe me, his royal moodiness was perfectly happy to oblige.”

I sucked in a startled breath. “But why?”

I couldn’t imagine why anyone would choose that. I might prefer Gwydion slightly, if only because he was nicer and had never threatened or imprisoned me, but if I were her…well, there was no contest. I flushed slightly at the realization that despite everything, my preference was entirely clear and possibly hinted at some unresolved masochistic tendencies.

“Scion’s greatest love is this country. He needs to marry a queen, and I have no taste for power or politics.” She glanced from me to where the obsidian crown lay on the bedside table, unmoved from where it had been when I awoke. “I do not envy the position you are in, and I will feel no differently should you survive and find yourself queen in earnest.”

I had to swallow a laugh. That seemed too far out of the realm of possibility. I’d never even let myself consider it. I was still planning to follow the bargain I’d made with Bael and give him the crown before returning to the valley where I’d grown up.

Though now, I wondered if that plan would have changed as well. When Bael had said our bond changed everything, did he mean the bargain as well?

I wondered what Thalia would say about Bael—who did she think he needed to marry? Would she have picked him over his brother? Was that an option available to her? What about Bael over Scion?

I flushed warmer. Why I was thinking this at all, I had no idea. I could only blame the fact that Thalia had put it in my head.

It was foolish of me to waste my thoughts this way. Impossibly stupid.

“I’m finished,” Thalia said.

I wasn’t sure if she meant with fixing my appearance or her story, but regardless, I spun to face her. “Thank you. I will have to get something else to wear before tomorrow. I can’t do this again.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you certain? I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you look better.”

I scoffed, thinking of how I’d looked when we left Inbetwixt and my recent neglect of food, sleep, and anything better than the most basic hygiene. “You must be joking.”

She shook her head. “Truly. It’s fortunate that your scars are healing so they don’t distract the eye.”

“What?” I jolted in surprise and turned to look in the vanity mirror and gaped.

She was correct. I could admit that I did look better—healthier—even after the last time Bael had healed me. Even more than that, I’d had many scars, both from my time as a servant and, more recently, from when I’d nearly died, impaled on my own crown. I gaped at my own smooth flesh. Some scars were nearly gone, while others were far lighter than they should have been, looking years old rather than months. “How is that possible?”

“You would have to tell me,” she said shrewdly. “Perhaps the next time we share secrets.”

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