A Thief of Nightshade(46)



He looked intrigued. “And why would that be?”

Certainly, the prison warranted the dreadful reputation, but the Goblin King seemed nothing but pleasant. “Because I am in love with the man Saralia intends to crown and I won’t let that happen.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I see. That does sound most unfortunate, but certainly something that can be remedied.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I knew you would—”

“Yes, well, not to worry. You will come to love it here in time and I do believe, though as I said it is most unfortunate, that your feelings on the matter of this former love of yours can certainly be taken care of.”

“What?” she asked, horrified.

He smiled and pulled the mask away from his face to reveal that above his handsome jaw was massive scarring— burns, perhaps, or worse. “I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.”

Her throat closed and she was short of breath. “Cain, you did send him?”

He furrowed his brow. “Who? Oh, yes, I did inquire as to whether or not you were the human Saralia had told me would be brought here. I had to know for sure that it was you. He wasn’t very useful. It’s so hard to find good help these days.”

“I’m not who you think I am, please, you’ve got to listen to me. She only told you that so you would keep me here.”

“I’m afraid you are exactly who I think you are. I have dreamed about you for so long. I know this face.” He reached out with his cold metal gloves and touched her cheek. “This sweet, porcelain face, like I know each and every statue in my throne room. Aubrey, you will never feel pain or suffering again. By my side, you’ll want for nothing.”

She leaned against the wall behind her, her vision swirling black from fear.

“My friends; please let them go if you are going to keep me here.” Aislinn could find help somehow.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that either. One of them has already escaped somehow and the animal is already, shall we say, otherwise engaged at the moment.”

She straightened back out. “What have you done to him?” she cried.

He slid his mask back into place and smiled. “It’s very sweet of you to concern yourself with him. I will take that into consideration. Now,” he lifted his hand into the air and made a swift motion with it and suddenly two doors swung open and she heard footsteps enter from her left, “let’s get you out of those terrible clothes and into something a little more fitting for my future queen.”





Chapter Seventeen


GIVEN CAME TO WITH THE SOUND OF A

thousand voices and found herself in the arms of who she assumed was Ian, the shape-shifting Fae Griffin who had known her since she was a child. When she opened her eyes, her suspicions were confirmed. She first saw his hawk-like wings and

a

downward-feathered

headpiece, the beak just above his forehead. He wore a leather vest and a deep red sash around his waist, signifying that he’d sworn his life to Oberon and taken on the revered mantle of the Griffin.

Ian made his way through the parting crowd into her uncle’s throne room. He gazed down at her, the displeasure unmistakable. Moments later, they passed through the doors into the King’s study, allowing the masses to whisper amongst themselves.

“Your Majesty.” Ian carefully placed Given onto the couch near the fireplace.

“She is not well. Her small friend,” he pointed at a pouch at his belt, where she assumed Lipsey was hiding, “says she cannot talk but doesn’t know why. He mentioned nightshade.” He was overly cautious with his words, probably unsure of how Oberon would react to the news.

“My child. What have you done?”

Oberon acknowledged Ian with a nod of his head, then went quickly to Given’s side. “I told you this was useless — what have you sacrificed for the sake of Man?”

Given shook her head. As if on cue, Lipsey popped out of Ian’s belt.

“Y-y-your Majesty?” he squeaked.

“Your Majesty, this is Lipsey. He spoke to me at length on the way here.

They were taken prisoner by Koldavere; the girl and Aislinn the bear, who Lipsey says is Prince Jullian’s brother.”

Lipsey puffed his chest a bit and tried to sound brave. “She caught what Aubrey had. Aubrey was drugged with nightshade at the Crimson Stair, where we met Given, and then she got really, really sick, but then Given did something and Aubrey was all better. Well, not all better because she’s sort of dying. She was attacked by a Time Wraith after we left home. But she was a little better...”

Given closed her eyes, hoping to avoid the look that would cross both Oberon’s and Ian’s faces at the mention of the whorehouse. Ian’s hand clamped her arm, most likely to let her know that he wasn’t willing to let it go quite so easily.

She was grateful that her uncle spoke before Ian had the chance.

“Given, I will not trade your life for the life of a human who is destined to fall prey to Saralia’s ways. I advised you against this. And what do you do? You go straight to the proof of it. If this girl Aubrey had any chance at all of succeeding, why would she have gone there? Why would she have gone to the most debased place in the kingdom of Man? It is not a place for you, a princess.

This is not a burden for you to bear. You cast a suffrage spell, didn’t you?” He pressed a weathered hand to her throat and spoke the words to restore as much of her voice as he could. As he did, the King seemed to take note of the wounds on her back. He pulled her shirt at the base of her neck and grimaced at what he saw.

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