Malice

mold of my Lair.
Stop being an idiot, that ruthless voice inside me commands. She never wanted you.
The memories disintegrate like foam on the sea.
—
A few nights later, my Lair is too cold to inhabit and I find myself once again in the main parlor. Laurel joins me. She arranges herself on a chair in front of the fire with one of the books I’d given her. Ancient Briarian Rulers, I think.
“I wish you’d be more discreet with those books,” I say to the snow, my breath fogging the glass.
A page turns. “You don’t want anyone to know you’re stealing from the old royal library?”
I whip around so fast I tip halfway out of the window seat. “How did you—”
She taps the inside cover of her book. “They’re stamped. Do you think I’m a fool?”
“Clearly, I’m one.” I resist the urge to beat my head against the window.
“I haven’t told anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She sifts through a few timeworn pages. “If I did you’d stop bringing them.”
“Well, enjoy it,” I grumble, drawing my knees up to my chin. “There won’t be more.”
For a while, there’s only the gentle cadence of the fire. The soft ticking of the clock on the mantel and the glass creaking in the windowpane.
“I’m sorry about your gold,” she says at last. And I think she means it. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think Rose took it.”
“Why not? Doesn’t she hate me enough?”
“She’s too self-absorbed,” Laurel reasons simply. I can’t help but laugh. “The only gold she’s concerned about is her own. If she wanted to steal yours, she’d have done it ages ago.”
I agree with her, though I won’t say who my true suspect is. “Maybe.”
“It is interesting, though. Do you think your missing earnings have anything to do with the absence of the princess?”
She might as well have punched me. I jerk forward and my foot smashes into the window casing. Laurel just looks at me as if she’d asked what the weather might be tomorrow.
“You do realize I’m gifted in wisdom,” she says. “And I saw her here myself.”
The night she came asking after the books. “I—” I splutter, unable to latch on to a coherent excuse. “I thought…”
“You thought she’d properly disguised herself?” Laurel crosses one leg over the other, thoroughly amused. “Perhaps for someone less observant. But not when I saw the stamp on these books. And she took no trouble concealing her voice. I heard her before I entered your chamber.”
I duck my head into my arms, muttering curses.
“No one else knows, if that’s any comfort.”
It is, a little. “Why haven’t you told?”
“I already explained.” Laurel adjusts her blanket. “You’re entitled to your secrets. And the crown princess can do as she likes. Not everyone would feel that way, though.” There’s a warning in her tone.
“I’m aware.” The cold leaking through the window has bitten through my clothes. I move to the chair across from Laurel, wincing as I imagine what Rose would do with such delicious knowledge.
“Is that why she stopped coming?”
I pick at the fringe on a throw pillow. “I have no idea,” I lie, stubbornly refusing to admit my own naïve stupidity. “I thought…things were different between us.”
“She’s a royal.”
“You’re saying I shouldn’t trust her?”
Firelight catches the bits of sea-green in the wisps of hair that escape her braid. “I’m saying she’s as caged as we are. In a different way.”
“You feel caged?”
“Don’t you?” She tilts her head. “The Graces are commodities, the same as you. We both attended the trial.”
Narcisse’s frenzied pleas resonate in the whine of the wind outside. I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “Aurora wants to change that. Abolish the Grace Laws and establish an entirely new system.”
“Aurora?” Laurel smiles and a blush climbs up my neck. “She might. If she lives. And I hope she does. But there’s a difference between being a princess, given free rein to traipse about the Grace District at night, and a queen.”
Kal’s words from a different mouth. I hadn’t wanted to believe them then, but now—
“Don’t mistake me,” Laurel continues, tracing her fingertips over an illustration in the book. A Briar Queen, it looks like. I can make out the thorned bramble crown from here. “I expect great things from the princess. We need more rulers like the early queens. Leythana’s daughter systemized the Etherium mining. Her great-great-granddaughter established the trade routes we still use today.” She doesn’t try to mask the disdain in her next words. “Of course, much was lost once the queens started doling out their responsibilities as wedding gifts.”
“Aurora swears she wouldn’t.” But a bitter taste forms in my mouth. Can I believe anything the princess said?
“It would mean a new age.” Laurel studies the fire. “The Lord Ambassador is also eager to see what would happen with the next queen.”
Endlewild.
I swear I can hear his snide Fae laughter in the crackle of the fire. “I don’t give a dragon’s asshole what he thinks.”
Laurel’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “You’re not fond of the Fae lord.”
I wrap my arms around my middle as tight as they will go, the phantom burn of that golden staff scorching my skin.
“You wouldn’t be either if he tortured you a hundred thousand ways, deemed you a half-breed, and promised your death at his earliest convenience.”
A flush smears across Laurel’s cheeks. She looks away. “I know you have a history.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” I cringe against the memory of his coarse, bark-like touch. “And what are you doing talking to him anyway? He hates the Graces.”
“I met him when I first Bloomed. He’s partial to the wisdom Graces. I believe he views us as less…materialistic. And we’ve spoken several times at social engagements.” She pauses, pressing her lips together as if considering whether or not to continue. “And he doesn’t hate the Graces. That’s a common misconception. He hates Briar’s obsession with wealth and beauty. Ours is no longer the realm the Fae entrusted to Leythana. And he despises