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She rolls her eyes with a smile. “Desperate, grand thoughts.”

A chill is on the breeze, and I glance around, on edge. We’re away from Faerie, but it’s never safe to utter those sorts of things aloud. “Let’s go inside.”

Wallen appears to take the reins, and we step into the foyer. Thanks to the fire in the hearth, it’s warmer than when we left—a fire that shouldn’t be burning.

I narrow my eyes at the flames. “I didn’t light that.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher said they would return late this evening,” Alice says. “They must be back.”

Uneasy, I take Alice’s cloak.

“Alice,” I begin carefully, feeling we must broach the subject she brought up outside. “You know you must never—”

“You’ve returned,” a female voice says from the hallway, making us both swing around.

I shove Alice behind me, hoping to shield her from my mother even though it’s an impossible task.

The queen of West Faerie notes our position, and she slowly raises a dark eyebrow. Her impartial gaze lands on me, and then it slides to Alice.

Recognition shocks her, and she takes a step back as if she’s seen a ghost. And yet, she doesn’t look altogether surprised. Livid, she turns to me. “Where did you find her?”

I’m about to tell her it’s not Alice, but my magic stunts me. After all, she is Alice—just not our Alice.

“It’s not her,” I say instead. “That girl’s name was Eleanor. This is her sister, Alice.”

My mind races. How is Mother here? How did she know?

Anger kindles in my core when I realize it must have been Sabine. Foolishly, I trusted her with too much.

Narrowing her eyes, Mother studies Alice, likely taking note of her champagne blonde hair and sky-blue eyes. Behind her, Ian ambles into the room, a wicked look of satisfaction spreading across his face as his eyes travel between Alice, my mother, and me.

“How are you here?” I demand, finally recovering from the shock. “You can’t set foot onto human property without their permission—the magic won’t allow it.”

An ancient agreement was made with the local humans long ago, at the time the bridge was constructed. Our magic still obeys the bargain.

“This isn’t human property,” Ian says. “It belongs to you, and your mother is your sovereign. Therefore, she can come and go as she pleases.”

“I gave Alice the deed today,” I argue.

“It wasn’t properly notarized,” Mother says impatiently.

“Of course it was. I had Wallen—” I stop short, my mind reeling.

It wasn’t Sabine who betrayed us.

She smiles. “Yes?”

My tongue suddenly feels too thick, and I try to swallow. “Wallen?”

“He is a loyal subject who tells me when my son is stepping over the line. I’ve put up with your ridiculous nightly escapades, but your attachment to this girl is going too far. I’ve come to take care of it.”

“You knew?” I ask, aghast.

All this time, I foolishly believed I kept the Highwayman’s identity a secret.

She clenches her fist with prideful anger. “Is there anything that happens in my kingdom that I don’t know about?”

“There is not,” I say dully, coming to terms with it.


Tags: Shari L. Tapscott Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods Fantasy