Sterling watched in the mirror as Iris walked toward her. In her hands, she carried a crown nestled in a bed of black velvet. The purple sapphires embedded in the metal twinkled when they caught the light.

  Iris set the crown on the vanity, and then carefully lifted it free of the velvet. She moved around behind Sterling and placed it on her head.

  It was heavier than she’d thought it would be.

  The edges of it dug into her scalp as Iris got busy weaving her hair around it in an upswept coiffure. Sterling had selected this particular crown because the metal was twisted to look like trees that ended in deadly points. If need be, she could use the razor-sharp edges as a weapon.

  Cylan had arranged for the meeting with the Winter Queen to take place a few hours from now. Of course, the Winter Queen had no idea any of this was happening, and there was a chance she wouldn’t answer, but Sterling still wanted to be prepared. Everything needed to be perfect.

  Gavaran was to return in two days from wherever he’d disappeared this time, and by then, she planned to have taken back control. With a direct line of communication set up between her and the Unseelie Queen, there would no longer be a need for him. Then she could turn her focus to ridding herself of the Fae Queen.

  One step at a time.

  Sterling lifted her chin, admiring the way the sapphires sparkled with the small movement.

  Behind her, Iris let out a small squeak and dropped the piece of hair she was holding to stick her index finger in her mouth.

  Sterling eyed her in the mirror. “Please, don’t get blood in my hair,” she said. “It isn’t quite the look I am going for.”

  Iris pulled her finger out of her mouth and wiped it on her skirts. “Of course, Your Highness. I’ll wrap this up and be right back.”

  “Be quick about it, or send someone else to finish this. I don’t have all day.” Sterling tried not to look as more blood welled up in the cut on Iris’s finger. She’d barely touched the crown, and it had sliced her right open.

  Iris scurried from the room, leaving Sterling alone to wait.

  She knew she should be nicer to Iris, considering she was the only person other than Cylan who spoke to her on a regular basis, but Sterling’s nerves were a mess. She needed this to go well.

  She’d already gone over everything she planned to say to the Winter Queen, and the few questions she would ask. It’d been difficult to narrow down precisely what was most important to know, but she could hardly go in there looking like she didn’t know anything. If she pelted the other queen with questions, she would be dismissed as a child, and Sterling would be right back where she started. What she needed was to be seen as an equal, not a pawn to be used.

  Sterling’s neck ached by the time Iris returned, her finger wrapped in a white bandage. Iris didn’t say a word as she got straight to work, making up for the time she’d already cost with her injury.

  Cylan arrived as Iris was putting the finishing touches on Sterling’s hair. After Iris had finished, Sterling dismissed her and rose from her place in front of the mirror.

  “You look beautiful, Your Highness,” Cylan said, bowing to her.

  “Save the compliments.” Sterling waved him off, though she was secretly pleased.

  She’d spent more time than she cared to admit selecting which dress to wear. She’d finally settled on a deep purple gown, the exact shade of the sapphires in her crown. The neckline settled right in the hollow of her throat, and while the dress had no sleeves, it did have a long silver cape that draped over her shoulders and fell to touch the floor. It made her feel like the royalty she was.

  “Everything is ready, as you requested,” he informed her.

  “And no one else knows of this?”

  Cylan shook his head.

  “Good. I wouldn’t like to see what would happen to you if word did get out.”

  He paled visibly at the threat. “If you will follow me.”

  Sterling trailed Cylan down a few floors to a similar space where she’d found Gavaran speaking with the Winter Queen, and then later been threatened with imprisonment by him.

  A dish that she now knew was a scrying bowl had been set on the table. The silvery liquid in the bowl created a mirror-like surface, and when Sterling looked down at it, all she could see was her own reflection staring back at her. The liquid distorted her features, making her pale eyes appear too big for her face.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “There isn’t any other way to do this?” she asked, trying to reposition herself so the faery wouldn’t have a view up her nose. The crown pulled at her scalp as she tipped her head this way and that. She almost regretted picking out such a heavy piece.

  “No,” Cylan said. “This is the method preferred by the Winter Queen. We’ve only had contact with her through a scrying bowl.”

  “Meeting in person would have been better,” Sterling grumbled.

  “If you wanted to meet in person, all you had to do was invite me,” a silky voice said.

  Sterling’s face heated at being caught complaining. It was not how she’d wanted to start this meeting.

  “Hello, Your Highness,” Sterling said, inclining her head at just the right angle so that the light glinted off the spikes of her crown.

  The woman looking back at her was wearing her own crown of spikes, though hers appeared to be made from icicles and probably didn’t weigh anywhere near as much as Sterling’s. Her dark hair hung in loose waves around her face, softening her stark features.

  The Winter Queen was beautiful, and everything Sterling wanted to emulate. In her presence, Sterling felt like a child playing dress up with her mother’s clothes—which, in a way, she was.

  “Sterling. It is good to finally see your face after I have heard so much about you.”

  She didn’t miss the other queen’s lack of honorific. Another sign this meeting was not off to a great start.

  “I would have liked to meet you in person had I known you were amenable,” Sterling said, her eyes flicking to Cylan, who cowered away from her.

  The Winter Queen gave her a small smile, barely a curl of her lips. “Perhaps in the future. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

  Was that a pointed remark about this unscheduled meeting? Sterling wasn’t sure. Maybe she was reading too far into things.

  She leaned closer to the bowl. “Not at all. Is the Unseelie Court far from Nyrene?” She hated that she had to ask, but Cylan had only told her they were on the other side of the mountains, where it was always winter when she’d asked—whatever that meant.

  The Winter Queen tilted her head, considering her answer. “It is a bit of a distance, but nothing to be concerned about. That’s what we make transportation potions for, after all.”

  The surface of the scrying bowl went blank.

  Sterling gestured for Cylan to fix it, but when she looked up, he wasn’t paying any attention to her. His wide-eyes were focused on something behind her.

  “I could pop over in an instant,” the Winter Queen said.

  Her voice no longer came from the bowl.

  Slowly, Sterling turned to take in the Winter Queen, standing behind her. She was resplendent in a dress made of delicate white lace. Her skin, also pale to the point of being translucent, had a sparkle to it like when the sun hit freshly fallen snow.

  It was exactly how Sterling had pictured her in her head as a child, reading the book of stories Jensira had given to her, but it didn’t make her any less terrifying.

  “Who is this?” the Unseelie Queen asked, flicking a hand to where Cylan cowered in the corner. “A pet?”

  “He could be a gift,” Sterling offered.

  At her words, Cylan seemed to shrink further into himself.

  The Winter Queen studied him, considering. “No, I think not. Poor thing wouldn’t last long with me. He looks to be on his last nerve already.”

  Having the blood sucked from your body might do that to a person.

  Aloud, she said nothing. No need to let the truth of her power slip if the Winter Queen didn’t already know. And hopefully, she wouldn’t have to use that power because, for once, the voices were blessedly quiet. Maybe she should have been suspicious of the silence, but for now, she was grateful.

  “Where is dearest Gavaran?” the faery queen asked. The way she said ‘dearest’ made Sterling think Gavaran was anything but dear to her.

  Good.

  “I admit,” the Queen continued, “I was surprised to hear from you. Has something happened?”

  “Gavaran is away. He will return in a few days,” Sterling said, ignoring the last question.

  “Ah, yes,” the Winter Queen said, “checking on his little project. Of course. How could I forget?” Her expression said she hadn’t forgotten a thing, and this had been a test to see if Sterling would lie to her.

  But if she hadn’t forgotten, then how had she been able to say she had? Everyone knew faeries couldn’t lie. Was it because she’d asked a question and not given a statement? Something for Sterling to consider later.

  “What project?” Sterling asked.

  “You mean you don’t know?”.

  Another mistake. “I can’t be bothered to monitor every little thing he does,” she said. “I have more important things to do.”

  The Winter Queen’s expression said she wasn’t fooled. “If you don’t know, then it isn’t my place to tell you,” she said. “I’ll leave it to Gavaran to explain to his Queen.”

  They’d barely spoken for two minutes and already the faery had managed to make Sterling feel like a fool. She had to take back control of the conversation, but it would be too obvious to ask any of her questions about the Winter Queen’s dealings with Gavaran now.

  “Well, it has been lovely to meet you, Sterling, but I have business to attend to in my own kingdom. Perhaps I will see you again at my next scheduled meeting with Gavaran.” She put an extra emphasis on scheduled.

  Before Sterling could respond, the Winter Queen lifted a vial of liquid to her lips and was gone.

  Sterling blinked, hoping it had been an illusion. It still felt like someone else was in the room with them, but no matter how hard she looked, there was only Cylan cowering in the corner.

  The Winter Queen was gone. All that remained of her was a slight chill in the air.

  Sterling whirled around and picked up the silver scrying dish, hurling it with all her pent-up rage. It hit the wall over Cylan’s head before clattering down at his feet.

  Cylan’s eyes were the only part of him that moved as he looked from the dish to Sterling.

  She wanted to hurt something, and Cylan was the perfect target.

  Do it, the voices whispered.

  The second Sterling heard them, her rage drained away. No, she would not give them what they wanted. She needed to maintain control.

  She needed answers, and this meeting was supposed to give them to her, except she’d only been made to look like a fool. Her hands curled into her fists at her sides. How had she let it go so horribly wrong?

  We could fix it.

  She would attend Gavaran’s next meeting with the Winter Queen, even if she had to interrupt it like the first time. She would make both of them answer to her, no matter what it took.