Alex presses his hands on his knees, pushing himself to his feet. With a heavy sigh, he asks, “Are you hungry?
“I’m starving,” I admit.
He smiles, extending his hand. “Let’s go together.”
* * *
Another week passes,and things slip back into a routine. I only see Lord Cavinder once in passing, and he doesn’t acknowledge me. It’s clear he’s still angry, but I don’t care. The only thing that upsets me is that there’s no one to report him to. Because the illanté agreement is based on mutual consent, of sorts, there is little anyone can do about the matter.
“Alex.” I idly stir the foam into my coffee. We’re at the café again, as is usual for mornings we don’t have an afternoon show. “What did my mother do to force you into the agreement?”
He looks up so sharply, he accidentally bumps his cup, causing it to rattle on its saucer. We haven’t talked about it since the day in my dressing room, and I suppose it might seem the question came out of nowhere. But it’s been on my mind since I learned what happened to him.
“Are you sure you want to know?” he asks.
“First, tell me how she got around her decree that you were protected.”
“She detained us outside Auvenridge—lulled us into a state of complacency. But once the agreed time was spent…”
I look down at the table, imagining it all too easily. Humans are often intrigued by our world. If you remove the apparent dangers, many will forget they’re in hostile territory until it’s too late.
“As for the agreement…” Alex fiddles with his spoon. When he catches himself, he crosses his arms. “She brought an illanté into the room with us. The woman was old and frail, likely kept alive with concoctions.”
Pure anger twists his features, and he clenches his hand on the table as he relives the memory.
“My mother threatened to hurt her, didn’t she?” I say quietly.
“She didn’t threaten—she did. Right in front of us, until we agreed.”
Injustice rises in me, the bitter taste making me lose my appetite. Is this how Brahm felt all those years? The reason my brother became desperate enough to don a mask and save humans near the border? To do something?
I’ve been blind to the horrors of my kingdom. Worse, I knew… I just didn’t care. I decided life was best lived minding my own business while letting others tend theirs. It was easier, safer, and far more comfortable to hide my head.
“Queen Marison ended up killing the woman,” Alex continues. “Her heart couldn’t take the abuse, and a few of us were more stubborn than others. They had families—children to go home to. But in the end, she paid the price. I don’t even know her name.”
“How did…” I take a moment to compose myself when my voice shakes. “How did Mother coerce the last few?”
Alex unbuttons the top of his shirt, pushing it and his waistcoat aside just enough to show me a jagged scar that cuts across his upper chest. “We were loyal to our own. It’s difficult to watch anyone be put through that. It’s impossible when it’s one of your friends.”
It’s no wonder Alex hated me. How couldn’t he?
He buttons his shirt, adjusting the collar so he’s presentable again.
“Are there more?” I ask softly.
He grunts, nodding. “On my back, but most of them are from my time spent in the Treald household.”
The picture plays before my eyes, and I clench my hand on the table. “I’ll make them pay. Alex, I swear—”
“Instead of revenge, what about freedom?”
Blinking, I look at him. “What do you mean?”
“As far as I know, my friends are still trapped in Faerie.” Alex leans across the table and takes my hand, softening my fist and coaxing my fingers to wrap around his. “When you return, can you release them?”
“Not as a princess,” I whisper. “But once I’m queen…”
We’re both quiet, knowing what it means. The only way to save the rest of the troupe is through the crown. I have no choice but to return.