Tadhg and Ruairi twisted toward a shapely figure waiting at the entrance, flanked by two guards in black uniforms and black masks.
An obsidian crown rested atop her dark mahogany hair.
I had seen her before, woven in the terrifying tapestry hanging in the hallway.
The Phantom Queen.
Long black nails curled from her slender fingers. The candles flickering on the walls illuminated veins of black flowing beneath her almost translucent skin.
The Queen’s black eyes landed on the merrow’s emaciated body swimming in a pool of blood. Her red lips lifted.
The blue in Rían’s eyes melted to black. “Hello, Mother.”
32
The Phantom Queenwas Rían’s mother.
The bloodyPhantom Queen.
If the world knew what you meant to me, it would take you away . . .
Rían hadn’t been talking about the world.
He’d been talking about his mother.
She stole something precious from me.
The Queen had murdered her son’s love. And now her soulless black eyes were fixed on me.
Rían strolled down the dais to press a kiss to her pale hand. “Lovely as always to see you.”
“You always were a deceitful boy,” she drawled, tearing her hand away and giving him a disapproving once-over. Tadhg received the same look. When the Queen’s black eyes returned to me, they widened. “What’s this? Another human in Tearmann?”
Ruairi draped an arm around my shoulders. “We liked her so much, we decided to keep her.”
Not a lie. A careful truth. Had Rían inherited his ability to smell lies from his mother? I needed to remain vigilant, just in case. Guard the truth as if my life depended on it.
Because it did.
The Queen’s chin lifted. “When you tire of it, send it across the border.”
Rían’s gaze darted to me.
“I’ve already fed you once this year,” Tadhg said with a smirk, gesturing toward the hallway.
“I’m always hungry,” she crooned. Feathers sewn into her cape fluttered as she followed Tadhg to the dining room and settled herself on the chair at the head of the table. Rían sat to her right and Tadhg took the seat to her left.
If the world found out about you . . .
If I sat next to Rían, she may grow suspicious. Instead, I sat by Tadhg. Ruairi took the free chair at my other side. The Queen had her guards, and I had mine.
Tadhg shifted two bottles of wine—one green and one black—and five glasses. “What brings you our way on such short notice, my Queen?” He poured the Queen’s drink from the black bottle, then set it aside. For himself, Ruairi, and me, he poured from the green one. Rían’s glass remained empty.
The Queen’s thin eyebrows arched toward her crown. “Do I need a reason to visit my son?”
Rían stared at his empty glass in stony silence. I knew him too well to believe for a moment that his brain wasn’t weaving webs of plans and lies and secrets.
“Of course not,” Tadhg said with an easy smile.