The Glass Queen (The Forest of Good and Evil #2) - Gena Showalter Page 0,114

in holy matrimony? Something I wanted more than anything. To wed my fated at last. But how could I even contemplate such a possibility with Leonora in play?

The avian did not part once they were wed. If the being erased Ashleigh as she’d erased my other fated ones, Leonora would become my wife.

Must remove and kill her.

And Ashleigh’s heart? What then?

Just as before, the question threw me, those protective urges surging with greater intensity. I hissed a curse. As long as Ashleigh needed magic, I could do nothing permanent to Leonora. As long as Ashleigh carried Leonora, my connection to her jeopardized my people and my future. But...

I couldn’t let her go, either. I might be strong, but I would never have enough strength to cut ties with my princess. A fact I accepted. I’d fought hard to get to this realization, and I didn’t want to fight it, too. I was already fighting the urge to scoop her up and return to our waterfall; it was an itch in the back...center...and forefront of my mind, and it left me raw and desperate.

We needed to talk, she and I. But first, I needed to figure out my next move. No longer did I plan to have her cursed to an eternal sleep at the end of the tournament. That wasn’t even an option.

The tournament had reached its last legs, semifinals this week, finals next week.

Two weeks to go. Fourteen days. An eternity. I wanted to be rid of Philipp now. I wanted Ashleigh to know I had no plans to wed Dior. I wanted Ashleigh at my side as I claimed my new title of king.

Fourteen days. The next seven would feature more bonus battles, along with the two semifinal rounds. I could survive the end of Noel’s timeline.

The timeline. The oracle’s warning whispered through my mind and nearly stopped my heart. Let the next three weeks serve as a test. When time is up, there’ll be no more. There’ll be no going back.

Had she meant there would be no more time...with Ashleigh? With Leonora?

Sweat beaded on my brow. Fourteen days. A blip, a vapor. I had a mere fourteen days to free Ashleigh from the possible-ghost, without harming her irreparably. Fourteen. Days.

“What do you know of ghosts?” I asked Everly.

“That they whine when you don’t find the spirit of their dead boyfriend fast enough. Why?”

“I think Ashleigh is possessed by one.” As I spoke, some long buried memory fought its way to the surface. Possessed long term...by a spirit born in fire...possessed by a...phantom? A myth from a child’s tale? Unless there was as much misinformation about phantoms as there was about avian, lies purposely fed out to keep the truth from a possible enemy...

Son of a—“What do you know of phantoms?” I asked Roth.

He sat up and stared at me. “No. You can’t be thinking... No,” he repeated.

“What? What’s wrong with phantoms?” Everly threw another grape into her mouth.

“They are spirits, like ghosts, but they can possess someone for the entire span of their life. Some call them invisible dragons and say they wield power over—” His eyes widened. “Fire.”

I nodded, certain now. Leonora was a phantom and Ashleigh was possessed. Did Ashleigh know? I thought she might. How deeply I regretted the fact that she didn’t feel she could trust me with her secrets. My fault. Only mine.

“So you think Ashleigh is possessed by one of these phantoms?” Everly asked.

“I do.” I racked my brain, hoping to remember any other details I’d heard but finding nothing. “Do you recall a single tale that mentions a way to defeat a phantom?”

“I don’t,” Roth offered grimly. “I’ll speak with Noel and Ophelia.”

“Remind her that we have fourteen days to save Ashleigh from Leonora,” I returned, just as grim.

“All right, enough doom and gloom. Everything could change in a snap, so fourteen days is forever.” Everly swiped her hands together, case made. “Let’s finish our meeting so you can give yourself a one-armed workout while mooning about your princess, Saxon.”

I blinked. Rapidly. Had she just implied...?

Roth burst out laughing. She had. She really had.

She saluted me, yes, mocking me again. “Here’s the field report, sir. My plants and vines have been picking up chatter at the palace, just not from the king, who is blocking me with magic. I suspect the warlock has created some kind of shield for him. Through servant gossip, I learned the king plans to invite you and the other semifinalists to dinner tonight. Your mother