One Dark Throne (Three Dark Crowns #2)(37)

Not many from Rolanth will accompany her to Wolf Spring. Since it was announced that the Reaping Moon would be held here in a few months’ time, there is simply too much to do.

“Thank you for your offering,” Elizabeth says, and picks up the bowl to be brought inside. Bree takes Mirabella by the arm.

Once inside, Mirabella takes a deep breath. The open air smells of temple roses in full bloom, and beneath that, the salt of the sea and the cold, earthy essence of her beloved basalt cliffs. Today they depart for the long road to Wolf Spring. Wagons have been loaded with supplies, and at Westwood House, coaches stand ready with a portion of her wardrobe folded away in trunks.

“You seem so sad,” Bree says as they walk around the southern dome. “Are you not even a little bit excited?”

Mirabella pauses before Queen Shannon’s mural, storms and lightning in blue-and-gold paint. The weather queen seems to be gazing down upon her.

“I should not be excited,” she says. “I should be ready. No decree from the Black Council is to be trusted so long as the Arrons control it.”

Bree rolls her eyes.

“Now you sound like Luca. This is a good thing, do you not see? You will kill Katharine and Arsinoe both, and then we will have nothing but feasting and suitors until your crowning at Beltane.”

Everyone in Rolanth seems to agree, indoctrinated by Luca all these years to believe Mirabella’s legend.

“It will be hard to protect you in Wolf Spring,” Elizabeth says. “The people are wild. And with the temple obligated to be neutral, Rho will not be able to help.”

“Her gift will keep her safe,” Bree says confidently. “And so will we. That is what foster guardians are for.”

She pats Mirabella’s hand, but in truth they have always relied on the priestesses for their security. The Westwoods have had nearly no practice guarding her at all.

“Are you frightened, Mira?” Elizabeth asks.

“My senses are uneasy,” she replies. “I do not like leaving Rolanth. And that it was not our idea.” And she cannot stop thinking of what Billy told her. That Arsinoe had not sent the bear. And she did not fight back in the Ashburn Woods or use the bear then to harm her . . .

She looks into Elizabeth’s wide, dark eyes.

“I am only afraid of what I must do.”

Elizabeth slips her arm around the queen. “It will be all right,” she says, and Pepper the woodpecker flits from his hiding place in her hood to nibble on Mirabella’s earlobe.

“Pepper ought to be in a tree,” Bree whispers. “It is risky having him with you in the temple, close to so many watchful eyes.”

“I know.” Elizabeth rolls her shoulder and Pepper disappears back into her robes. “But it’s hard to get him to leave me when he knows I’m nervous or upset.”

“So do not be nervous or upset! Mira will not fail us.”

As they pass by an open storeroom door, they see Billy bent over in a barrel. Harriet the chicken sees them and clucks. Billy straightens and knocks dust and straw out of his hair.

“Oho! You’ve caught me.”

“What are you doing?” Mirabella asks.

“I’m setting aside things to bring with us to Wolf Spring. I heard there were jarred tomatoes and blackberries. For your favorite of my dishes: warmed jarred tomatoes on toast.”

“I thought you would be better at cooking by now,” Bree scolds. “Mira has grown so thin, half of her dresses had to be sent to the tailor!”

“Why don’t you teach me, then, Bree?” he asks. “If you are any better at it, I’ll eat my hat.”

Elizabeth giggles.

“Bree can barely slice bread for a sandwich.”

“Oh, who needs to slice bread, anyway?” Bree steps into the storage room to help Billy search the crates.

“What happened to buying from town?” she asks, her voice strained as they lift a crate lid. “My mother gave you money, and the priestesses would inspect whatever you bought.”

“Yes, well, that money may have found its way into a very fine restaurant on Dale Street. And into a few of the pubs off the marketplace.”

“Billy Chatworth,” Mirabella exclaims. “You have been feasting, and I have been eating jarred tomatoes on toast.”

Billy grins.

“I tried going into the market. But I didn’t care for the merchants there. They spat at Harriet like she was a familiar.”

Mirabella’s smile fades. The resentment between the people will lessen in time. Luca says the island will be united under her once the crown is settled.

“Perhaps I ought to go along—” Bree starts, and then Elizabeth screams.

She shakes her head and covers her mouth with her hand. Pepper flies from her hood and flaps in noisy circles around the storeroom, his little body striking the walls in panic.

Elizabeth points with the stump of her wrist.

The priestess dead behind the stack of barrels has not been dead long. Her cheeks are still pink, and gold curls fall softly across her forehead. From her neck up, she could be sleeping. But below it is a horror of swollen blood vessels so enflamed that they stand out on her chest like cracks in a vase. The bodice of the poisoned dress is tight and touches so much of her skin. Blue fabric streaked now with blood and the girl’s fingernails full of her own flesh, from trying to claw her way out of it.