cure I will trade for something else.”
Dugan’s face turned guarded, but he said nothing while he waited for me to lay out the bargain.
“Don’t look so glum. What I want is simple. In exchange for the cure, I want out of our betrothal.”
His shoulders fell. “That is not as simple as you may think. The agreement was between your father and my king.”
I shrugged. “Then agree to refuse with me. That’s good enough for one small cure to save a king.”
He looked away. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
Seriously? Was this such a hard choice to make? I sighed.
“We’ve been through a lot the last few days. You’re not a bad guy, but at this point, I wouldn’t even classify you as a friend yet. A friendly ally is probably a more accurate description of our relationship. There’s no affection between us, so you aren’t following through with the betrothal because of me the person—just because of me the planeweaver. Trying to force me into a contract isn’t going to win the shadow court any goodwill. And breaking the betrothal doesn’t mean I won’t look into reconnecting the shadow court and the realm of dreams.” Though I wasn’t about to make promises on doing it—especially since severing it had killed two planeweavers. But if I figured out how to do it safely, I wasn’t opposed to fixing the balance of Faerie. Particularly if it curtailed the Queen of Light.
Dugan bowed again. “I will refuse the betrothal.”
“Then the cure is yours, with my blessing.”
Dugan took the vial and held it between two fingers, examining it. He chuckled low, the sound soft and quiet. “Something so small that will cost me a Faerie throne two times.”
Falin and I both gave him questioning looks and he shook his head. “Now, because the throne would pass to me if the king died. And later, because the condition on the king stepping down was the successful birth of our first child.” He nodded to me.
Anger made my cheeks flush hot. He’d agreed to that deal? A child planned simply for political gain? My father and his damn planeweaver breeding program! When I saw him next I was going to . . . I didn’t even know what. Something, though.
Dugan slid the small vial into a pouch on his belt. “I do believe I chose the high road in both cases. I hope time proves they were the wiser choices.” He smiled at me. It was a kind smile, real. “You may no longer be my betrothed, but I think that, one day, I should like to be elevated from friendly ally to friend. You seem like a good friend to have.”
“Friends are not for personal gain, and friendship is not one-sided.”
He bowed his head to me, ever so slightly. “A hard distinction for a very old Faerie prince. Friendship is a weakness strong rulers often regret. But for you, I think it might be worth the effort and risk. Fare ye well, Knight and planeweaver.”
He gave me one last bow, and then he turned and walked into one of the shadowed paths, disappearing. I watched him go, then fished a second vial out of my pocket.
“I suppose I should purge this first,” I said, pushing up the sleeves of my sweater to study my arms. The fouled magic had crept up over my elbows.
Falin nodded. “You might reinfect yourself otherwise.”
He helped me find a small sapling outside the main clearing that was not on any path. I stripped the poisoned magic quickly, apologizing to the dying plant once I was done.
“Well, bottoms up,” I said, lifting the small vial in mock salute before tipping the contents into my mouth. The liquid inside was bitter, and my tongue curled as I gagged down the single swallow of liquid.
“Any change?” Falin asked, reaching out and taking one of my hands in both of his.
I waited. My mouth pooled with saliva, as if trying to wash away any remaining hint of the potion. Otherwise, there was maybe a small tingling feeling? I examined my fingers. They looked normal, but I’d just purged the fouled magic, so they would. After a few moments passed, I shrugged.
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” I pulled out two more vials and handed them to Falin, but I pocketed the final one in case I needed it later. “One for the quarantined healer,” I said before nodding to the second vial. “Are there any alchemists in the winter court who can