Page 54 of The Witch Queen

“This is against the rules,” Lord Warbeck objects. “If she doesn’t—”

“Therulesstate that the claimants have to return with the prize.” I hold up the apple. “They specify nothing about a kill.”

Lord Warbeck huffs, irritated. “Weston—set this straight.”

Sir Weston frowns. “Technically…the princess is correct. If she’s in possession of the apple, she’s earned her place.”

Lord Warbeck starts to argue again, but Aunt Margaret cuts him off.

“More than earned it,” she calls. “The princess has demonstrated her sense of compassion, as well as her courage. Well done, Blodwyn!”

The others absorb this, dubious. But as the seconds stretch on, more people begin to nod in acceptance. I glance at Gavin, but his expression gives nothing away.

“To the princess,” someone shouts. “Who spared the stag and bested a Nevenwolf!”

The others take up the cheer, some of them calling my name. But my attention settles on someone near the back of the group. Ayleth. In her eyes, I don’t detect pride or even astonishment. Instead, something like fear flashes in the depths of her gaze.

Chapter Fifteen

Ayleth

What thehelljust happened?

The moment replays on a loop in my mind: Blodwyn cornered by Nox. His question carried by the shadows:Kill her?

I didn’t give an answer. Just stood there, frozen, until the stag intervened. If it hadn’t, would I have let Nox pounce? Would I have allowed him to rip out Blodwyn’s heart? Murdering the princess wasn’t my intention when I summoned the Nevenwolf. In fact, I instructed Nox to find Margaret. If not to kill the duchess, then at least to maim her. Get her out of my way. Why had Nox targeted the princess instead? And another, far darker question surfaces:ShouldI have let him kill her?

Yes,that voice inside me whispers.Don’t be afraid of who you are.

“Whata turn of events.” The duchess brings me back into the forest as she steers her horse to join up with me.

With the trial over, the hunting party trundles back to the palace, everyone laughing and drinking. Toasting the health of the stag, who has been loaded onto a wagon to be carted back with us. Blodwyn insisted that the animal recover in the palace stables. Most seem thrilled by this idea and are already doting on the creature like it’s a pet. There’seven talk of ennobling the animal and housing it in the princess’s menagerie.

“I trust you’ll dispatch the Hunt,” Margaret continues. “I want that Nevenwolf’s head returned to us on a spike.”

Malum shivers inside me.

“Nevenwolves are notoriously difficult to track,” I reply.

“That one seemed happy enough to make itself known,” Margaret counters. “I shudder to think what might have occurred if the stag hadn’t distracted it.”

That’s another bizarre occurrence. Typically, the forest creatures avoid anything to do with Malum. I’ve certainly never seen one willingly engage with Nox. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say the stag intervened on purpose—specifically to rescue Blodwyn. But why? From its cart, the animal’s bright amber eyes are fixed on me, like it knows what I’ve done.

“Margaret!” Weston maneuvers his horse around to catch up with us. “We need you to settle a dispute. Rathburn here suggests we name the stag Arthur, but I say we call it after me. Weston the Stag. Far more fitting, don’t you think?”

Weston salutes himself and the other man, Rathburn, tries to shove him off his horse.

“These boys,” Margaret says to me with a laugh. “Whatever shall we do with them? And don’t look to me for support, Weston. I’m still angry with you. Given that you were in charge of the hunt, I expected it would be safer. The princess nearly died today.”

Pity the duchess didn’t.

“You have my deepest apologies, Your Grace,” Weston says, bowing in his saddle. “But I’m as surprised as you are. I haven’t heard of a Nevenwolf wandering so close to the palace in years. Not since…the hunt for Longest Night, I believe it was. You recall, Majesty. Someone killed it. Shot out the beast’s eye.”

Margaret’s attention twitches to me. “You were there?”

“Yes,” I admit, stiffening. “When I was a maiden in Queen Sybil’s household.”

“That’s right,” she says, thoughtful. “I quite forgot about your original placement. What a rise you’ve achieved.”