The Glass Queen (The Forest of Good and Evil #2) - Gena Showalter Page 0,82

so I returned them to their underground nests.”

Fairies could not lie. Okay. All right. The eggs were safe. I nodded, satisfied with her actions.

“Oh, one more thing, and it’s so minor it hardly bears mentioning,” she added with an airy tone. “You’re late, you’re late, for a very important date. Meaning, yes, your father demands your presence in the throne room immediately, and he says he won’t tolerate any of your lollygagging.”

What! “Why?” Unless... Had he learned about the dragons? He must have. Before this, he’d all but forgotten my existence.

Every day I’d hoped he would visit me. At the very least, he could have sent a servant to inquire about my well-being. Even that would have been a delight. But each one of those days I’d gotten hit with a punch of disappointment. I had to be bleeding internally by now.

“Maybe he heard what you did and hopes to thank you?” She shrugged.

That would be amazing. Earlier in the week, when Ophelia had sold me her spell, I’d paid an additional fee to bring two of my designs to life with magic. A sword with retractable spikes and a dagger with hooks that ran up the center of the blade.

Trying to buy his affections?

Well, yes. I knew he was capable of affection, and I wanted to experience it for myself. Just once, I wanted to know what it felt like to have a father look at me with approval.

As payment for this particular task, I’d had to part with two of the golden nails I’d taken from Saxon’s tent. I’d hated doing it, but a girl had to do what a girl had to do. To my delight, the weapons I ordered had appeared atop my dresser bright and early this morning, along with a note.

All done. What’s next?

I’d planned to have a full set of armor made before presenting the entire collection to my father.

“He for sure doesn’t know about the dragons,” Ophelia said, “so you don’t have to get your panties in a twist wondering if he’ll try to turn them into war dragons or whatever.”

“A twist in my...you know what? Never mind.” I shoved a dagger inside my skirt pockets—I wore a mourning gown I’d borrowed from Dior. She’d offered other, more colorful options, but I’d hoped this one would help me hide any specks of soot. I’d added the pockets myself.

“I’ll go, and you’ll—” what had she called it? “—dragon-sit?”

“Yes,” the two replied in unison.

A grinning Noel shook her fist toward the ceiling, crying, “Girls just wanna have fun.”

Ophelia massaged the back of her neck, as if resigned. “Dragons do put the fun in funeral.”

I shifted from foot to foot. “Before I go, I need to know the truth. Are you planning to tell—or will you tell—or will you allude to—or will you have someone else tell or allude to Saxon that the dragons have hatched?” I wanted no misunderstanding between us.

“Trust me. We won’t be telling Saxy anything about your scale-babies,” Noel vowed, lifting a hand. “Because when we have a secret, we lock it in a vault and throw away the key. I’ve never, in all my days, told a single soul about the time Saxon vomited on my shoes. He asked me not to share, so I won’t. Not ever. Now, wipe the cinder from your cheeks and go earn your slipper badge.”

Would I ever get used to her odd speech? “How can you claim you won’t tell anyone, while telling someone? Oracles are fae, and your fae magic forces you to speak only truth, yet you constantly contradict yourself.”

She smiled so sweetly. “But, Ashleigh. It’s never a lie if you believe it. Just ask Leonora.”

How did she know—silly question. But what was the oracle hinting at? That Leonora had lied to me? That I was lying to myself, and I just didn’t know it? Both? But what lie did we believe? And was Noel referencing the past or the future?

One more question, and my mind might break. “You know who I’m carting around, and yet you returned the eggs and told me how to wake the dragons anyway.”

“I have many reasons for this.” She hiked one shoulder. “Too many to list.”

“I’m not asking you to list them all. Tell me one.”

“Tell you one what?”

When she said nothing more, I sighed, crouched down and opened my arms for Pagan and Pyre. As the babies nuzzled against me, I told them, “Mommy needs to leave for a little while. Stay here with the