Extraits

“Right before you killed him, you mean,” Cardan says, his dark eyes glittering with something that looks a lot like fury. Although whether it is toward Jude or this long-dead person, Oak isn’t certain.

“No,” Jude says, not seeming in the least afraid. “I’d already killed him. He just didn’t know it yet.”

“He isn’t dead,” Jude says matter-of-factly. “He’s a tree.”

“I would give her whatever she wanted of me.”

Mother Marrow raises her brows, looking amused. Then her smile dims. “Poor Suren.”

Oak puts a hand to his heart. “I think I’m offended.”

“It was a clever thing to do—a clever thing to say. You’ve always been clever. Be clever now.”

“You fall in love with the ease of someone slipping into a bath,” she tells him. “And I imagine you extricate yourself with somewhat more drama, but no less ease.”

“So let me get this straight,” Oak says. “You understand the part where I might have had to kill a lot of people, but you think I chose the wrong girl to kiss?”

Cardan yawns. “I hate the war room.”

Jude rolls her eyes. “He’s probably arguing with Grima Mog’s second-in-command.”

“Well, if there’s an actual fight to watch, that’s different, obviously,” Cardan says. “But if it’s just pushing little wooden people around on maps, I will leave that to Leander.”

At the mention of his name, Leander capers over. “I’m bored and you’re bored,” he says. “Play with me?” It’s half request, half demand.

“They ought to recall what they were doing when they were my age,” Oak says. Jude has been worrying the rest of them for years.

The spy gives a half smile. “Perhaps that’s what stopped the High Queen from hanging Tiernan up by his toes for going along with your plan instead of stopping you.”

“We do not love because people deserve it—nor would I want to be loved because I was the most deserving of some list of candidates. I want to be loved for my worst self as well as my best. I want to be forgiven my flaws.”

The Ghost tilts his head as he regards Wren. “Are you certain about accepting the young prince’s proposal? He can be something of a fool.”

Her lips twitch.

Randalin draws in a shocked breath.

Oak gives the Ghost a speaking look. “The question is whether she will have me be her fool.”

Wren smiles. “I’m certain.”