The Wish Granter (Ravenspire #2)(23)

“Leave him,” she said quietly. “I need help getting Cleo home.”

Sebastian drew in a deep breath and felt the fire inside him flicker and die. Quickly, he offered his arm for Cleo to lean on and joined the princess on the long walk back to the palace.





NINE


ARI GRABBED A plate, took one of everything from the breakfast laid out on the serving bar, and sank into a seat at the (blessedly empty) dining room table, her body aching from fighting Teague’s men at the market the day before. She took a bite of coddled egg and considered the results of the previous day.

She had a tiny jar of bloodflower poison. She had the rare Book of the Fae on order. She’d learned that Teague had a system of street bosses and runners collecting fees from the merchants—coin they paid to have Teague’s disgusting henchmen leave them alone for another week. She had the bruises to prove that Teague’s employees meant business. Cleo did too, which had required an elaborate story to satisfy Mama Eleni, who had spent the morning muttering dire threats against Lady Zabat’s maids for daring to spill milk and cause her daughter to slip.

But most important, she’d learned that the terrifying nursery tales of the Wish Granter were based in truth—a thought that still made her heart race and her hands go cold. Nanny Babette had always started each story about the Wish Granter with the adage “He’ll grant you the deepest desire of your heart, but in ten years he’ll return for your soul.” Ari had always thought the adage had to be an exaggeration meant to frighten children away from the belief that they could use the powerful fae without enormous cost. Now her stomach sank as she remembered Thad telling Teague he had nine years and eleven months left. If he’d made a wish, he was in more trouble than she’d thought. Whatever price he’d agreed to—and surely it wasn’t his soul; her brother was far too smart for that—the stories always made it clear that the wish was never worth the price. The Wish Granter always won.

She was determined that this time he would lose.

Ari spread a generous dollop of creamy butter over her slice of raisin bread. She’d also learned that the new weapons master was more than a match for Teague’s men. He was as strong as a smith but as quick as a stableboy. It was an interesting combination.

And it was a stupid thing to think about when Ari had real problems in front of her.

Thad didn’t owe Teague for another nine years and eleven months. That was plenty of time for Ari to learn how to use an iron weapon or, better yet, find a secret weakness hidden in the Book of the Fae. Something that wouldn’t depend on her (questionable) coordination. Something that would intimidate Teague into letting her brother out of his contract without killing him.

It would help if they knew where Teague lived so that when they were ready to renegotiate the bargain, they could find him, rather than waiting for him to show up unannounced. Maybe the location of his home was something she could uncover.

She licked a crumb from her finger, drank some orange juice, and made a plan for the day. She’d go to the arena to practice with her new iron weapons and thank the weapons master again for his courage yesterday. Also, she was going to take his advice (she’d been too upset by her confrontation with Teague’s men to get the weapons master’s name) and tell her pair of guards to look for other employment.

She raised a fork full of lamb sausage and froze at the sound of voices rapidly approaching the dining room.

Stars, the nobility, who’d come from the outskirts of Súndraille for the coronation and were still in residence, were coming to eat their breakfasts and here she was sitting in her stained, almost-too-small kitchen dress looking absolutely nothing like a proper princess.

Ari’s pulse kicked up, and she hastily put her fork back onto plate while she scrambled to catalog her options.

She could remain where she was, but the thought of trying to finish her breakfast under anyone’s prying eyes was nearly enough to ruin her appetite.

She could race out of the dining room using the servants’ entrance, but it was at least two hundred paces in the opposite direction, and there was a decent chance she wouldn’t make it before they came into the room. Then she’d be stuck explaining why she’d been fleeing, and, stars knew, she had no desire to do that.

Plus, running away meant abandoning her breakfast, and Ari had a full day ahead of her. She needed her strength.

That left her with only one remaining choice. As someone pulled open the wide double doors that led into the room, Ari grabbed her plate and dove under the table.

The tablecloth settled in her wake. Ari scooted toward the middle of the table and prayed no one would sit close enough to her to accidentally kick her. Having to justify why she was hiding beneath the table would be mortifying.

Also she was pretty sure “diving under tables with plates full of food” was another item on Thad’s ever-growing list of things proper princesses didn’t do.

She held still, balancing her plate in her lap, and listened as at least two people filled their plates from the serving bar. They spoke quietly, and Ari recognized the voices of Thad and Ajax, Thad’s head of security. Strange that Thad would invite Ajax to dine with him, but they’d been inseparable lately. Maybe keeping a man with Ajax’s skills close was Thad’s way of dealing with the threat of Teague returning to the palace.

Unless Ajax had an iron weapon and some bloodflower poison, his skills weren’t going to be much help.