Page 114 of The Witch Queen

“Thoseare the Bloodstones,” I say, nodding toward the crown.

Ayleth doesn’t deny it.

“But that means…” I pause, recalling her story. The magic she claimed the Bloodstones held. “Youbroke the Veil. You unleasedMalumon the realm.”

Jacquetta mutters something again. Ayleth stiffens.

“I did what I felt was necessary,” she replies icily.

“Like with Papa?” I ask with another biting laugh. “With me? Everyone assumes I’m cursed and it’s because of what you did.”

She swallows. For an instant, some of her armor falls away and I might see guilt flit across her features. But then it’s gone.

“If you wish to cast me as the villain of your story, I can’t stop you. But if I’m a monster, why didn’t I kill you ages ago? It certainly would have suited me better.”

The words land like a slap.

“And does itsuityou now?” I ask.

“Of course it doesn’t,” she replies. But it’s too quick, like she’s trying to convince herself as well as me. “Surely my actions tonight demonstrated as much.”

With everything that’s happened, I nearly forgot about the Great Hall. The corpse-like creature that crawled out of the ground.

No, not a creature. Aprincess.

Thelostprincess. I’d guessed her identity as soon as her yellow eyes locked with mine. Who else would drag herself out of her grave, vowing revenge on the White Kings for stealing her throne?

You must pay the price,her rasping voice echoes beneath the snap and pop of the fire.

“That…creature,” I say. “Where did it come from?”

“I’m not sure,” Ayleth admits. “Whatever it was, it doesn’t belong among the living. It must have made its way here when the Veil fell.”

“The Veilyoubroke,” I comment dryly. “You’re the reason it tried to rip out my heart.”

“That’s not—” Ayleth starts.

“It’s technically true,” Jacquetta supplies.

Ayleth glowers at her. “It doesn’t matter why it came. We’re going to get rid of it.”

“Her,” I correct without thinking.

The two of them look at me, puzzled.

“How do you know that?” Ayleth asks.

Don’t tell them,a small voice inside me warns.

It’s right. I came here to share my theory about Princess Matilda with Ayleth, but that was before I knew the truth. Now I can’t trust either of them. Still…who else would believe me? Not Aunt Margaret. Verity would, but what help could she offer? Much as I hate to admit it, these two witches may be my only hope.

“There’s a book in the other room,” I say. “I brought it with me to show you—the legend of the lost princess.”

A crease forms between Ayleth’s brows. “Lost princess?”

Briefly, I fill them in on the story I found about Princess Matilda and her ill-fated bid for the throne. The drops of blood left in the snow andthe cryptic message discovered in her room. When I’ve finished, they’re both staring at me like I’ve grown a second head.

“So you believe,” Ayleth is the first to speak, “the creature we saw is this princess?”