One Dark Throne (Three Dark Crowns #2)(30)

“‘Glad’ is not the word I would use when discussing it. Those lads are dead, and Katharine is insane. It could have just as easily been me who was killed. I don’t know whether you’re truly the ‘chosen queen’ like everyone around here seems to believe, but for Fennbirn’s sake, you had best hope that it’s not Katharine. She’ll be ruinous.”

“The queen who is crowned is the queen who was meant to be.”

Billy sighs.

“My God. Isn’t it exhausting to parrot back temple rhetoric? Do you ever think for yourself?”

“I thought for myself when I saved Arsinoe,” Mirabella says sharply, and the clouds overhead darken. “At Innisfuil, when they tried to cut her to pieces. And two days later, she sent a bear after me. So do not tell me she would be better for the island. She is just as heartless as Katharine.”

He stabs at a chunk of pork like he wishes it was Mirabella’s eye.

“She didn’t send that bear after you, you great idiot,” he says.

“What?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

“No. What did you mean by that? Of course she sent it!” Mirabella glances at the priestesses near the house and lowers her voice. “Who else could control her familiar?”

“Who else do you think?” Billy asks, his voice equally low. “Another strong naturalist, perhaps? One who would have just as much motivation to hurt you after you stole the boy she loved?

“Perhaps someone who Arsinoe would always lie for?” Billy adds, but when Mirabella opens her mouth, he stops her. “Don’t say her name out loud. I shouldn’t have told you. Arsinoe’s going to kill me.”

“Then,” Mirabella says as Billy goes back to prodding at his horrible meal, “Arsinoe never meant to hurt me.”

“No. She didn’t. Arsinoe grew up believing that she would die. She just didn’t count on having so much to live for. Jules and Joseph and the Milones.” He smiles slightly. “Me. But what good is knowing any of this? This is the way of the island, isn’t it? The natural order. So what does it change?”

Mirabella’s fingers dig into her napkin. She wants to scream or cry, but if she does, the priestesses will come running.

“I almost killed her that day in the road,” she whispers. “Why did she let me do that?”

“Maybe because she knew you had to. Maybe she wanted to make it easier on you.”

Mirabella’s eyes fill with tears, and Billy quickly wipes his mouth. He scoops strawberry tart onto his fork and holds it out.

“Here,” he says. “You must try this.” As she takes the bite, he uses his thumb to discreetly wipe the tear that falls down her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I suppose I haven’t even tried to consider your point of view. It was thoughtless of me.”

“It is all right,” Mirabella says. “Does she know that you love her?”

Billy raises his eyebrows.

“Why would she when I didn’t? It wasn’t like I read in books. A thunderclap. Eyes meeting. Tortured glances. With Arsinoe it was more like . . . having cold water poured down your back and learning to enjoy it.”

“And does she love you?”

“I don’t know. I think she might.” He smiles. “I hope she does.”

“I hope so too.” Another tear slides down her cheek, and Billy darts forward to discreetly hide it.

“It is all right,” she says. “They will think I am only crying because of how terrible this strawberry tart is.”

Billy sets down his fork, insulted. Then they both begin to laugh.





WOLF SPRING





They put the suitors in long wooden boxes to sail them home, as is the mainland tradition. The boxes seem small, and are so still that Arsinoe’s throat squeezes shut. She knew Tommy and Michael so briefly. Two boys who thought they might be king. Who perhaps thought it was all just a great game.

The Black Council sent the poisoners Lucian Arron and Lucian Marlowe to examine the bodies, hoping to find evidence that they did not die from poison. But of course, they had.

“Let them start as many rumors as they want,” Joseph says. “Everyone will know now that they’ve lost control of their queen.” He slips one arm about Jules’s waist and the other around Arsinoe’s, but she slides out of it. She killed those boys, not Katharine. She was careless, and she killed them.

Arsinoe steps closer to the edge of the dock and watches as the ship bearing Tommy’s and Michael’s bodies casts off into the cove.

“I can’t breathe, Jules,” she says, and gulps air. She feels Camden press warm fur against her legs, and then Jules is there, to hold her up. “You were right. I shouldn’t have played with it. I didn’t know how to be careful.”

“Hush, Arsinoe,” Jules whispers. There are too many people gathered on the dock. Too many ears.

Arsinoe waits until the boat is out of sight and turns back toward shore, her feet hammering the wooden planks. The faster she gets back to the Milone house, the faster this day will be over.

“Queen Arsinoe!” someone shouts as she crosses the docks toward the hill road. “Where is your bear?”

“Well, he’s not in my pocket,” she snaps without pausing. “So he must be in the woods.”