The Glass Queen (The Forest of Good and Evil #2) - Gena Showalter Page 0,17

a year. I wasn’t clear on the specifics. If I remembered right, though, those babies were said to be powerful beyond imagining—and destined to reach a tragic end.

“Were they destroyed, then? You watched them die? I wish my mother had known before she ate one of their apples.” Ophelia hiked a shoulder in a shrug, all poor woman. “I’ve heard about Leonora, yes. She torched Craven the Destroyer’s kingdom to the ground after she beheaded him. Such an amateur move. I would have torched the village first and made him watch. Twice.”

So, Ophelia knew what I knew and little else. How disappointing.

How long till we reached our destination? I leaned over to peer out the window, seeing the trees I’d expected and...snow? I frowned. Fleur did not snow in summer.

Shadows fell over the treetops, and I jerked my gaze up. I recoiled. An entire horde of avian. Never had I seen so many winged warriors in one location. No more than ten at once had ever visited the palace in Fleur, and only five had tormented me at the Temple. They dwelt primarily in the Avian Mountains, so territorial they preferred not to leave. So why were so many here now?

Unless they’d come to greet me with rocks?

Quaking, I looked out at the dreary mountains that loomed in the distance. A massive stone fortress topped the largest and—

Mountains?

“Ophelia? I think we accidentally traveled through the wrong doorways.” Usually witches sensed where each invisible entrance led and navigated accordingly. “We’re in Sevón, not Fleur.”

“Gold star for you, Princess.” She shifted, getting comfortable. “Not too long ago, your uncle forced a young sorceress named Everly Morrow to marry him. Everly murdered him right after the wedding, of course, making Roth the king of Sevón. He imprisoned the sorceress, but soon fell madly in love with her. The two joined forces and went to war with Princess Farrah, who joined forces with the new sorcerian overlord, Nicolas.”

I could only gap at her. What the—what?

“Farrah and Nicolas are currently at war with the entire Azul Dynasty,” she continued, gossip clearly her favorite language. “Or they would be, if Nicolas wasn’t missing and Farrah wasn’t imprisoned in a glass coffin deep in the heart of the forest. Your father decided to use the civil unrest to sneak into Sevón, kill Roth’s most loyal servants and claim the kingdom as his own. Meaning, yes, your father is now at war with Roth and Everly, who rule the Enchantian Forest. She wanted to abduct you during your return to the palace and ransom you back to your father—for each of his limbs—but I told her no way, that she’s got to wait at least three weeks before she even considers amputation.”

“Um, thanks?” My head spun, my entire world suddenly turned upside down and inside out. Word about this had never reached the Temple. I hadn’t known my uncle, King Challen, was dead. I hadn’t known him well, either, but I’d liked him, and I mourned his loss.

Had he really forced a sorceress to wed him?

I hadn’t known my father had displaced my cousin to save the kingdom from that same evil sorceress, or that Roth had fallen in love.

“How is my father?” I asked softly. “He is well?”

“If you don’t mind ’em entitled, selfish, and greedy, then yeah, he is well. Tomorrow, he kicks off a three-week tournament that’s open to any eligible bachelor in the land. The prize is a grand one—your stepsister’s hand in marriage. As we speak, males are flocking into the realm to fight for her. I’m tempted to enter the tournament myself. The girl can turn anything into gold with her touch alone.”

What! “Please, back up. I have a stepsister?”

The witch shook her head. “You have two of them. Soon after your banishment, your father married a princess of Azul. A widow with two daughters. Dior is your age, and Marabella is two years younger.”

More changes to digest. My father had remarried, and I had a stepmother and two stepsisters whom I’d never met, one of them magically inclined, the way I’d always dreamed of being.

Needing comfort, I reached up to stroke my beloved ring. Would my new family like me or would they find me lacking?

“Do you have news about—” Don’t do it. Don’t ask. “Saxon Skylair, the avian prince?” Withering roses. I’d asked.

“Oh, yes,” she replied, her lips curving into a smile. “He’s the crown prince now, and the poor kid has had a tough month. Farrah, whom he loved