ARWEN

BY THE TIME WE ARRIVED, Queen Ethera’s palace was lit by a dusk sky of bursting blue, blushing peach, and bruising violet. Kane’s cruel-king

demeanor was back in full force and I couldn’t tell if that was a reaction to the morning’s events with Oleander or another layer of protection when entering an unpredictable situation such as this.

His usually wavy hair was pushed slightly out of his face by that dark crown of twined thorns, his sleek, sable finery and stacks of glinting rings more menacing than elegant. His lethal scowl and bored eyes somehow still made me want to sink to my knees before him and watch that jaded gaze unravel.

I tried to convey just that as armored guards in leather breastplates guided us through a pruned hedge tunnel and two decorative hallways that led to a tearoom. That I didn’t blame him for what he felt he’d been forced to do with Oleander. That I was grateful he’d found a way to retrieve the ledger without hurting the old man or his many books.

Kane only offered me a soft dipping of his chin as we sat at a fine table covered in white lace and little baby-blue bows. The room more closely resembled a sweetshop, or maybe a nursery.

None of us spoke while we waited for the Scarlet Queen.

Mari’s eyes were fastened to the eastern wall of the parlor, where a towering gilded sculpture of an elm tree sprouted so tall it grazed the domed

ceiling. Constructed with vines and leaves dipped in gold, the monument was piled with books—vivid with color, some with bright white spines, others sunny yellows or rich blues. By the roots of the sculpted elm tree, all the novels wedged between branches and in the hollowed-out trunk were stained black.

Griffin appeared more concerned with the significant number of guards that crowded the room alongside us. His brutal eyes slid along them over and over again. Counting, measuring. Sizing them up. I wasn’t sure why— they were all mortal. But there were about two dozen of them and only four of us.

Still, the Scarlet Queen’s tearoom didn’t strike me as an arena for violence. The ceiling was painstakingly painted to depict a lush, scenic meadowland, replete with rolling hills each dotted with daffodils. The white columns supporting the domed, picturesque scene above were carved with intricate detailing. An oversize floral couch lay atop warm maple floors. And the room’s little details were all in lovely feminine colors: lampshades of dusky mauve, mismatched pastel yellow knobs on drawers, and candy- pink throw pillows.

Across from the table where we sat stretched a sprawling bow window divided into four equal segments that split the garden view. Outside rolled snow-flecked grass, pruned rosebushes, and robust, emerald-green hedges. A marble fountain, and some kind of wrought-iron arch sprinkled in winter holly adorned the garden, too.

Ethera was clearly a queen who liked things. Aside from the enormous tree of books, couch, and crackling ornate fireplace, the parlor was stuffed with girlish curiosities. Porcelain cake stands, birdcages, dice, candleholders without candles, vases bare of flowers. Peculiar feminine oddities were crammed into every nook and cranny.

None stranger than the shiny metal instrument in the corner that spouted music with no player. The machine reminded me of the rounded maw of a clam or a blooming flower. Waxy vibrating tunes emanated, and I knew it to be one of the strange inventions the north of Rose was so famous for.

The entire room reminded me of what a very rich person who’d never stepped foot into nature would guess spring looked like.

And when Ethera waltzed in, I decided my assessment was spot-on. “Greeting, darlings, greetings!” she sang, weaving through the room to

join us, wine-colored hair swaying as she moved. Her lithe body was surprisingly curvy—perky, ample chest, tight apple-shaped bottom. I averted my eyes, feeling bizarrely like a man the way I’d ogled her. She was hard not to look at. Her long, slinky pink dress was skintight and revealing but deceptively casual. It was like someone had lengthened my silk nightdresses and covered the bottom in bright, rosy feathers. The gauzy matching robe practically floated behind her as she waltzed to us on satin, heeled slippers.

She’d paired the ensemble with mouthwatering, colorful gems—the holy rose quartz of her kingdom’s namesake looped around her neck, bright green topaz and iridescent opal hanging from her ears. The most glittering of all, her red-painted, dazzling smile.

The woman was enchanting.

All four of us stood out of courtesy as she drew near, and she swatted her hands at us like we were fat houseflies, her feathered sleeves swaying. “Oh, do desist, lovies. Lest you make me feel tremendously old.”

Her voice surprised me. Briar was hundreds of years old, Kane and Griffin as well, but their mannerisms, their speech…they had maintained a youthfulness—a modernity. Their slowed aging meant they didn’t just appear younger, they were.

But the way Ethera spoke—

She only looked about thirty or so, but if my math wasn’t terrifically off base—she’d won her civil war with Aleksander’s help just a year or so after Kane first arrived in Onyx, and she’d been thirty-one then…By my count, the young, jaw-droppingly beautiful queen with the pouty full lips and wild teal eyes was…over eighty.

“Seems it’s the blood oath that keeps her so young.” “And so fucking crazy.”

I shivered. Is that why she was mad? Because she’d not aged the way humans were supposed to? Unlike Briar or Kane, was there a crinkled, hobbling eighty-year-old woman trapped inside that flawless body?

“Your Majesty…your collection”—Mari gestured to the books wreathing the elm behind the queen—“it’s exceptional.”

“Go! Go peek,” Ethera encouraged as she sat.

Ethera’s long nails were painted the color of her namesake—a bright scarlet—and she ran them through her silky hair absent-mindedly until she removed one hand and, with it, an entire fistful of maroon strands.

My brows shot up my face, and I worked to school them as the queen wiggled her fingers absently and allowed the entire clump to drift to the floor.

I glanced sidelong to see if Mari, too, had witnessed the strange occurrence, but she’d already bounded across the room, drawn to the towering tree of vibrant books like a bee to honey.

“Find me something suitable to peruse amid all that arboreous hodgepodge, will you?” Ethera asked.

“Crafted in Garnet?” Kane asked, his gaze still roving the shelves Mari examined.

Ethera grinned broadly. Her unblinking eyes turned my stomach. “I trade with all lands, my dear. All the clever items conceived of within my kingdom are of value someplace.” Ethera whirled in her chair until her eyes landed on the metal mechanism still pumping out a twangy melody atop them. “Like that marvelous machine, over there, we’ve dubbed a melograph. My citizens are absolutely besotted with the doohickey. If you have a trinket of interest for me, perhaps your kingdom can be bestowed with them, too?”

“I’ll have to think on that,” Kane drawled.

Given Ethera’s penchant for innovation, her kingdom-wide trade network made sense. My eyes crawled across the room. What else did they have here in the north that my imagination couldn’t even fathom?

Surely the same upright bathing columns Citrine had. The ones that mimicked rain that Kane loved so much. And the book I’d read Mari when

she’d been in a coma—A History of War in Rose—had spoken of wheels on thin carriages that only held one person, and using loud, repetitive sounds to communicate across long distances rather than sending ravens.

The queen clasped her hands together in anticipation as two handmaidens brought out our tea. The spread made my mouth water. Teapots and platters of spongy almond cakes and tarts piled high with cherries and currants. Sandwiches of radish and rye, mushrooms hollowed out and stuffed generously with herbs and some kind of soft cheese.

Mari found her way back to the table at the sight—the enormous tree of books would have to wait. Griffin stiffened as the food was laid before him, and while I raised a brow in silent question, I was answered only with a glare.

When none of us moved immediately for the food, the queen tutted, “Eat, eat. You’re all too thin.”

I did as I was told and piled my plate high with both savories and sweets. A handmaiden in pale pink poured a fragrant milky rooibos tea that swirled inside gilded porcelain cups for each of us.

“Queen Ethera,” Kane purred. “I wish we were here under less dire circumstances, but we’ve come today to ask for your help.”

Ethera plopped two cubes of sugar into her tea before dipping a dainty red-polished finger in and swirling it as Kane spoke.

“The battles I wage against King Gareth of Amber and King Thales of Garnet are not exactly as they seem.”

Ethera pulled her finger out of her tea, and— My stomach churned in revolt.

Her fingernail was missing. Not the bright red polish—the actual nail. It had just…fallen off her finger as she stirred. Unbothered, Ethera took a sip and hummed. As if she knew we’d all seen the curious occurrence, and was pleased to luxuriate in both our shock and her own delectable strangeness.

My gaze shot to Griffin’s across the table, whose rarely emotive pale green eyes flared as he sipped from his cup. He’d also seen the beautiful queen decay right before our eyes.

“Yes, lovely,” Ethera said to Kane, pursing her full red lips. “You needn’t offer me a history lesson. I know of your diabolical father and your otherworldly heritage. But I must confess, I can’t envision my humble kingdom assisting much at all.”

Ever since Hart had told us of Ethera’s blood oath with Aleksander, we’d assumed that she’d know more of the Fae Realm than other mortal monarchs.

“Are you aware of the seer’s prophecy?”

Ethera nodded, and then, as an afterthought, flashed another dazzling, wide-eyed smile that made me shudder.

“Through magic beyond any of our comprehensions,” Kane continued after a sip, a little put off, “I have been reborn as full-blooded Fae. Arwen here is full-blooded as well. That makes not one but two opportunities to slay Lazarus with the Blade of the Sun.”

“Which you’ve located?” Kane didn’t falter. “Yes.”

I held my tongue as I drank, steam curling around my nose. The tea was thick with milk and honey. More sugar than anything else. Kane’s words weren’t a lie but…if she agreed to work with us, we’d have to tell her where the blade was currently being held.

“We have my entire army positioned at the ready, but without Peridot or Citrine, and knowing no other kingdom has comparable legions, we will not have enough men to face Lazarus, Garnet, and Amber combined. We need your men, too, Ethera.”

“Hogwash. Why must it be my army?”

“There is no one else,” Griffin cut in, irritated. “As we’ve just explained.”

Ethera’s red hair brushed through her plate of food as she leaned forward as if we were swapping clandestine secrets. “And why,” she whispered, “is it we must fight?”

Mari’s eyes widened in alarm, cutting to me and then to Griffin.

“Ethera,” Kane managed, not unkindly. “My father is going to sack all of Evendell. He’ll kill everyone in your kingdom.” When the mad queen

didn’t react—didn’t even lift her hair from her desserts, Kane pushed on. “What is it you need from us to pledge your armies to our cause?”

Ethera sat back and pressed long fingers to her mouth in thought. Then she smiled brightly. “Oh! Nothing, my dears.”

Triumph sang in my ears at this crazy old bat, with her dementedly beautiful body and frilly tea parlor. Somehow she of all people would be our saving grace. Even Griffin’s mouth turned upward.

“Holy Stones,” Mari breathed. “That is excellent news.”

“No, no, lovely.” Ethera’s pearly white smile glistened, and when she blinked rapidly a few eyelashes fluttered down into her peaches and cream. “There is nothing that could convince me to lend you my army. They are quite busy—the vexatious southern half of my kingdom remains steadfast in their hopes of unseating me from my throne. If I sacrificed even a fraction of my men in your battle, I fear the delicate tapestry of peace I’ve woven might unravel beyond repair.”

Kane’s eyes blazed. He set his cup down. But already, my gut was churning. And…my bones—heavy and a little weak.

“We thought you might say that,” he drawled. “So we’ve brought one last thing.”

“A gift?” Ethera’s teal eyes sparkled like her jewelry. “For me?” She clapped riotously, and I braced for flying fingernails. Griffin pulled the ledger from his satchel, nearly dropping the heavy tome on a platter of apricot pastries. Mari’s and my eyes met across the table in silent confusion. Griffin had the preternatural strength and precision of an ox made of steel. He did not struggle to hold books.

“It’s the missing—”

Ethera sat up, shiny hair bouncing. “The other half! How in all the realms did you find this?”

“We know some people,” Kane said with a cunning smirk.

“Well,” she breathed, sitting back in a puff of pink gossamer and feathers. “Consider me flabbergasted.”

“Pledge your armies to our cause, and we’ll leave you with half that ledger now. The remainder will be waiting for you on the other side of our

victory.” Kane’s features were hard. No relief in those tense shoulders quite yet. My stomach roiled.

“Naturally, my dear, naturally…” Ethera wound more of that thick hair into her hand as she studied the leather and fine print. “This has transformed the landscape of my predicament.”

After long moments, Ethera hefted the book in her delicate hands and stood, her chair scraping on the wood floor with the movement. “I’ll need to think on it. Maybe for just a little while…”

“You’ve plied us with mountains of tea and pastries and indulged us in idle chatter…” Kane shook his head as he braced white fingers on the lace tablecloth.

My own stomach flipped again and some faraway corner of my mind forced my eyes down to my teacup. It had been so milky. So thick, and pale

—

Kane bared his teeth at her. “We need an answer now, Ethera.”

“While I would have been absolutely bedeviled by this…” She waved the ledger, and the pink feathers of her sleeve fluttered. “Had you not regaled me with your new nature, I might have been persuaded. But alas… now I’ll have to take both prizes I desire. Deepest apologies.” She turned to her guards and cocked her lovely head at me. “Seize her, won’t you?”