Stolen Songbird(84)

Flinging myself down on a sofa, I waited for the girls to sit on either side of me before I explained in terse sentences what the King had said.

“Oh, he’s a villain,” Zoé said, her brow creased with indignation. “It isn’t fair to threaten you – it’s not your fault that His Highness is being…” She flung her hands up in the air. “I don’t know, antagonistic?”

I nodded warily. To the best of my knowledge, the girls didn’t know about our ruse – they thought our quarrels were real. It was all so complex and convoluted that I figured it was best to keep silent on it entirely. My head began to pound in frustration. “I don’t know what to do.” That much was honest.

The girls exchanged concerned glances. Zoé retrieved a hairbrush and began working on my hair while her sister set to filing my already perfectly filed nails. It was no hug – their training was too ingrained to instigate that degree of familiarity – but the sentiment was the same. It made me wish desperately that Sabine were here.

“I don’t think you have any choice,” élise said, exchanging the file for a buffer. “You have to do what the King says – we all do.”

“How?” I clenched my jaw. “I can’t make Tristan be nice to me.” Never mind that doing so would totally undermine the human-hating persona that he took such pains to cultivate.

“No,” élise said, “you can’t. But you can be seen making an effort. It might buy you time.”

“What do you suggest?” I asked, the growing gleam on their faces making me uneasy.

“We can lower the necklines on your dresses,” she said. “Make them snugger in the right places.”

“And there are certain fragrances that are said to stimulate ardor. I can procure some in the city and let it be known that you requested them. Word will spread like wildfire, and all gossip eventually gets back to the King.”

“This all sounds humiliating,” I said, slumping my shoulders.

élise shrugged. “It’s better than ending up in a box.”

She made a valid point, which is why I subjected myself to trying on gown after gown while the girls pinned, tucked, and altered, all the while thinking that this really wasn’t the answer. I didn’t want to buy time – I wanted to take action today. I wanted Tristan to get rid of his menace of a father now, not a year from now. The spells in Anushka’s grimoire might just be the key to speeding along the process, if I could find a way to use them. And in order to do that, I needed to get my hands on the primary ingredient of all the spells: troll blood.

That would be no easy task.

“Too tight?” Zoé asked around the silver pins she had stuck between her lips. I realized I’d been frowning, and forced my face to relax and shook my head. She went back to work and I went back to my thoughts.

Marc was the most obvious person to ask, but he would want to know why, and I had no confidence that he wouldn’t tell Tristan. Same with the twins. As much as they might like me, they were his kin, his closest friends, and they were fervently loyal to him. I glanced down at Zoé and élise, their faces terse with concentration as they worked. They were my friends, but again, their loyalty was unquestionably to Tristan. There was no way they’d hand over something that might possibly be used against him, and besides, I had no way of knowing how their half-human blood would affect the spells. So that ruled out Tips and his gang as well.

All possible paths, it seemed, led back to Tristan. He was the only one I could ask, but I had a sinking feeling that that conversation wouldn’t go well. He liked being in control of circumstances, and I was already something of a loose cannon running amok with his plans. He would not like giving me more power than I already had. He didn’t trust me enough. He’d take the grimoire away from me, and with it, the only real leverage I had.

I sighed as deeply as I could in the tight dress. If only he would give me a chance to prove I was trustworthy and loyal, then maybe he would believe that I sought to harness Anushka’s spells to help him, not to hurt him. I needed him to understand that he was the last person in the world that I would hurt; that I would do whatever it took to help him. That I… I bit my lip and forced the thought away. He didn’t need to know that.

Clapping a hand over my mouth, I faked a yawn, then directed an apologetic look at my maids. “I think I’m about done for the night,” I said. “I’d like to get ready for bed.”