The Cursed Queen (The Impostor Queen #2)

“Cloak—oh! Oh, yes. Yes, it will be ready by tomorrow afternoon,” she says, smiling broadly, all innocence.

I wonder if she hopes for all of us to be dead by then. “Are you all right?” I ask, noticing the flush on her round cheeks and the wild spray of her hair, even more wild than usual. I glance down at the hem of her dress. It’s edged with mud, just as I would expect. “You’ve been out in the city.”

“Just needed to see my boy,” she says, but the quaver in her voice betrays her.

“And did you see anyone else?” I meant to stay calm, but my voice has grown sharp.

She sets down the bandages and pitcher and blinks at me in surprise. “No. Who on earth would I see, little red?”

I lean back against my mattress, seething yet smiling. “No idea, Halina. No idea. I hope you enjoyed the visit, though.”

Her hands still for a moment, but then she jumps back into motion immediately, peeling back my sleeves to look for new blistered patches. Oddly, though, there is nothing, despite my little meeting with Sig. “It was nice to be out in the city,” she says quietly as she tugs my sleeves back down to my wrists. “I’ve spent so much time in this tower that I feel like my skin has faded to the color of the stones.”

“Then maybe the journey to Kupari won’t be so bad after all,” I say, watching her face. “You’ll be out in the open air.”

She pauses to look at me, and in her eyes I see a million questions. “As you say, little red,” she says softly.

Does she suspect I overheard? If she does, she could arrange for the signal time to be changed, which would render my knowledge useless. “Thank you for taking such good care of me,” I tell her. “I want you to know—when we’re in Kupari, I’ll protect you.”

She tilts her head, then gives me a warm smile. “Much appreciated, little red. I’d do the same for you if our positions were reversed. I mean it. We might be from different tribes, as you call them, but I see you struggling to make it to the light. I think you will, one day.”

I feel the hurt of her betrayal in my chest, though I know it’s not really fair to expect her to tell me the truth and be on my side. I just . . . wish she were, that’s all. I like her. I admire her. She would make an excellent Krigere.

Or perhaps she is simply an excellent Vasterutian.

“I’m trying,” I whisper. “Good night.” I turn over and close my eyes as she pulls a blanket up over my shoulders, making my throat constrict with the truth of what I must do.

When tomorrow dawns, we will be enemies.

*

I lie awake all night, trying to figure out what to do. If Halina and Efren meant me to hear, should I keep what they said to myself, for fear of playing a part in their deception? But if they didn’t want me to hear, then I must tell, or the Vasterutians’ plan will cause the deaths of everyone I care about. The Vasterutians are trying to get us to turn on each other. Instead of raising a resistance, they simply want us to kill our own and take care of the problem for them.

I hate how clever it is.

Thyra has no idea. She wanted to be their allies, but instead they’re setting her up—she has no way of getting information from the city or the warriors, except through them. They could have told her anything, promised an alliance that will dissolve as soon as Nisse’s warriors close in to seal our tribe’s doom. Why can’t she see it? Or is she fully aware that this is a disaster in the making? After all that talk of protecting our warriors from yet another rout, why would she ask this of them?

If I had helped her instead of turning my back, if I had been the one to make contact with our warriors, would all of this have happened differently? Could I have saved the tribe?

Can I save them now?

By the time Halina arrives with my breakfast, I am bleary-eyed and jumpy, my head pounding and my stomach sour.

“I’m not hungry,” I tell her as she sets the bowl of porridge in front of me.

“Sweetened it with honey. I know you like that,” she says, backing away.

“Did you hear me?”

“Little red,” she says, slowly, like she’s considering each word. “I think you best eat up. You’ll need your strength. Priests will arrive today from the Loputon. Our scouts found them in the woods and are bringing them here. Should arrive after noonmeal.”

“And I have you to thank for that,” I say in a flat voice.

“Nothing but good. More magic, less pressure on you to deliver a victory.”

I close my eyes and rub my hands over my face, trying to summon some energy. I don’t know how to explain to her how badly I needed to be the one, how the wish has grown huge inside me these past weeks, as isolation sank its teeth into my marrow. “I wanted to deliver victory,” I whisper. I wanted to be accepted within my tribe again, to know who I am without question. I wish Thyra hadn’t made me think about the cost.