Ruairi nodded. “I’ll see ye tonight.”
The innkeeper took my coins, handed me a key, and said he’d send up a tub as soon as he was able. My room at the top of the stairs wasn’t luxurious, but it was clean and comfortable. The bed squeaked when I sank onto the end of the mattress.
Rían had no heart.
The Queen had called him an empty husk. He didn’t seem empty to me. Not until last night.
How many times had I complained about being a “hostage” in Tearmann?
Rían was the hostage. Being controlled by his mother. A slave to his duty. Forced to hide his truth behind glamours and lies.
I had been controlled by my father. I had been a slave to my duty as the first-born daughter. I had been forced to hide my truth behind smiles and nods.
Until Rían had saved me from my fate.
And I had abandoned him to his.
Rían had a weapon that could end his mother and her hold over him. A weapon only a human could yield.
Pity the girl from Graystones . . .
I was that girl.
Who loved a heartless prince. . .
I loved him. Beyond reason, I loved him.
I pushed aside the rest of the fortune, prepared to create my own fate.
I was going to save my prince.
33
Hurryingthrough Gaul’s dark streets, I’d forgotten how black the night could be when clouds smothered the moon and stars. I tucked the leather journal I’d bought beneath my new cloak, then drew the hood over my hair to ward off the chill. I missed Tearmann’s heat.
I was late.
So late.
Ruairi was going to kill me.
Music reeled from pubs lining either side of the empty street, uneven notes twisting on the breeze. I missed Tearmann’s peacefulness as well.
I’d spent the entire day at the library in Gaul, reading all the books I could find on the Forest. Each one said the same thing: no one could enter the Black Forest without permission. Those who entered without permission had to pay the “tax.”
One life.
For each crossing, the Queen was allowed to take one life.
That was how Tadhg had gotten Keelynn through. She had accepted Tadhg’s life in exchange for my sister’s. What if she had refused his sacrifice and taken my sister instead? He had been a fool to take such a risk.
Once the “death tax” had been paid, the Queen could not take another life for the same crossing. Meaning if two people crossed, and one was killed, the second person was permitted entry into Tearmann.
Light from the flickering lanterns danced on the puddles left on the cobblestones. I skirted around a larger one. The heavy, damp hem of my skirts slapped against my ankles. If I weren’t so late, I’d have gone back to the inn and change into one of the other dresses I’d purchased before going to the library.
The door to one of the pubs burst open. A man stumbled out, ramming into me and sending my journal tumbling into the blasted puddle.
“Dreadfully sorry,” the man slurred, kneeling and fumbling for the journal.