I bit back my groan, turning toward the parlor to find the Queen sitting in one of the two wingback chairs in front of a barren fireplace, her spine never touching the cushion at her back. Heaven forbid she find comfort in her own home. Today, her mahogany hair had been plaited, draped over one shoulder to fall down the front of her—surprise, surprise—black dress.
“Good morning, Mother.”
Her nose wrinkled as she scanned me from head to toe. Black veins protruded from the backs of her hands where she tappedthe chair’s arm. “Your cravat is crooked.”
I straightened it as best I could while she continued looking on in disapproval.My hands dropped to my sides as I waited for her dismissal, doing my best not to fidget with the gold buttons on my waistcoat.
Inky black eyes returned to mine. “Who is she?”
“To whom are you referring?” I asked.
“The woman you’ve been rutting with.”
Silence was my shield against this sort of interrogation. A lie would be punished. But so would the truth.
The Queen shoved to her feet, meeting my gaze head-on. “Come with me.”
I waited to roll my eyes until she’d swept past, lest she take them as she’d threatened to for years.The two shadow guards now waited in the barren courtyard, a bound man kneeling between them, a burlap sack over his head.
Brilliant. Murder for breakfast.Happy birthday to me.
“This human was caught over the northern border,” my mother announced, eyes never wavering from where I stood.
Grinding my teeth together, I withdrew my dagger. Humans knew better than to breach the wasteland separating Airren from Tearmann without my mother’s permission or a sacrifice. They knew better, and yet they did it anyway.
“Did you cross the border?” I asked, struggling to match my mother’s detached, indifferent tone. This was someone’s son. Maybe someone’s brother. Maybe someone’s father.
The man’s head lifted inside the burlap sack. “I did.”
I inhaled the terrible yet familiar air laced with the smell of death, searching for the sweet tang of a lie but tasting only truth.
I adjusted my grip on the dagger’s hilt, focusing on the gleaming silver blade reflecting the gray clouds overhead. Before I could do what was expected of me, my mother clicked her fingers. One of the guards yanked on the hood, revealing a man with thinning gray hair and eyes the color of a stormy sea.
The countless other times I’d been forced to do this, my mother had never removed the hood. Why now? Why today, of all days, did I have to see the life and defiance in this stranger’s eyes? Both of which I was about to claim as payment for the death tax.
Knowing the consequences of balking at my duty would be far worse than getting on with it, I caught the man’s forehead and drew the blade across his throat. His heavy body slumped onto the black earth, a final gurgling breath escaping before he fell as still as the cursed black trees beyond the gate. Anotherclickof my mother’s fingers sent the guard bending forward with a golden chalice to catch the old man’s blood.
My tongue tingled when he held it toward me.
And I hated it.
The Queen descended from a long line of Abartach, ancient witches who drew additional power from blood. Although my father was fae, I’d inherited too many of my mother’s traits. Probably had something to do with being stuck here with her three weeks out of every month. Since meeting Leesha, I’d abstained. I couldn’t stop the killing. But this—I could keep myself from doing this.
When I didn’t reach for the chalice, my mother ripped it from the guard’s gloved hand, watching me through narrowed eyes as she drank deeply before shifting it away, freeing her hand so she could press it to the dead man’s back. As she slowly inhaled, some of the more pronounced wrinkles across her brow smoothed. Considering his age, the human wouldn’t have enough life force to erase her crow’s feet.
I shifted a handkerchief to clean my blade, careful to keep the blood from dripping on my boots.“Is that all you needed?”
“For now. I expect you at dinner tonight.”
“I have plans.”
“Cancel them.”
I didn’t want to cancel them. Still, I nodded. “I’ll have to tell Tadhg.”
She gave a dismissive wave, stepping over the dead man’s crusty boots and sauntering back toward the castle with the feathers of her skirt fluttering across the dirt-crusted ground.
Of all the days for her to insist on sharing a meal together, why did it have to be today? I’d been looking forward to celebrating at my father’s castle, with Tadhg and Leesha. With the harvest coming in, there was no telling when Leesha would have another evening free.