The Glass Queen (The Forest of Good and Evil #2) - Gena Showalter Page 0,49

off the attack. Not that I cared. His breastplate had come off, revealing gashes all over his muscular chest.

Watching him now, it was easy to believe he once, maybe, might possibly have been the original avian king. Such ferocity. Such brutality. But, even if he was a copy of Craven the Destroyer, he wasn’t actually Craven the Destroyer. Saxon had led a different life this go-round. He’d had a different upbringing, with different challenges and experiences.

And that was good. I suspected Craven would have murdered me right away. Saxon merely toyed with me. Which was frustrating. Definitely not fun. But I wasn’t Leonora. I hadn’t changed my mind about that. If anything, I was more certain than ever. Because...reasons.

If I were the witch—or phantom—I would have used her powerful fire magic at least once while I was awake. I wouldn’t burn or blister when I encountered flames, and I did.

But oh, what I wouldn’t give to wield power like hers. To create fire from air...to melt and mold my metals anytime, anyplace I desired... It had to be paradise.

A bloody Saxon shot into the air so suddenly, it looked like he’d been thrown. I held my breath as he peaked, angled his head down, tucked in his wings, and bulleted toward the ground.

“Oh, my goodness,” Dior cried. “Will he...can he...?”

The crowd held a collective breath. At the last second, the avian leveled out, spread his wings, and swept over the remaining combatants. Any warrior who came into contact with his wings toppled, clutching some part of his body as fresh blood spurted.

I caught sight of Milo just as he felled a goblin with surprising skill and violence. The warlock had been training.

Dior clapped for him, and I slinked deeper into my baby throne. For her sake, I hoped Milo had grown out of his selfishness. Until I got to know the man he’d become, I wouldn’t feel right commenting about the boy he’d been.

“You know,” Ophelia said, tapping a fingertip against her chin. “I can’t help but wonder if Saxon thinks Eve is wonderful, too. They both have parts in ‘The Little Cinder Girl’ prophecy, after all.”

What? I jolted, shocked to my core, my heart galloping. The battle momentarily forgotten, I zoomed my attention to the oracle. “They do?”

“Big ones,” Noel confirmed. “Huge.”

Why had no one told me? I mean, I understood that some royals kept their prophecies to themselves to ensure an enemy couldn’t use the fairy tale against them, but come on! If Saxon and Eve were part of “The Little Cinder Girl,” just as I was part of “The Little Cinder Girl,” our futures—our very fates—were intertwined.

“Guess what?” Dior squealed, grinning from ear to ear.

Oh, no. No, no, no. Don’t say it.

“I’m part of ‘The Little Cinder Girl,’ too.” She clasped my hand and squeezed excitedly. “Can you believe it? We share a last name and a prophecy. That must mean we’re going to be best friends.”

Well, she said it. What if she was Cinder? Noel had already admitted Dior was going to wed a prince. And Saxon kind of fit, one part of him an honorable friend, the other part of him a dishonorable foe. But, when was the obvious choice ever the answer?

I gripped the arms of my seat. Saxon and Dior would make a lovely couple. They didn’t share a violent history. She was in perfect health, wielded magic, possessed great wealth and the adoration of a king.

Let’s face it. I could be her evil stepsister.

Oh...weeds. I didn’t want to be an evil stepsister. And Saxon might be the prince, but that didn’t mean he belonged with Dior, who clearly wasn’t a warrior unwilling to bend. Eve was, though. I couldn’t imagine her bending for anyone about anything.

And what about me? Did part of me still qualify? Unbending? Please. My entire life was a compromise of some sort.

Cinder didn’t desire wealth or power of her own, but I did. Money purchased what you needed to survive or even exist. Power protected you from the foes who tried to take your wealth. And, really, I’d like being my own fairy godmother. I mean, I’d take help when I could get it, but I’d taken such pride in solving my own problem.

My dream to make and sell quality weaponry solidified. I would save my coins and buy a magical ability of my own. Nothing would stop me. Which a certain avian prince might consider a very Leonora desire...

Two hearts, one head. One head, two hearts.

I drummed