The next day Father called me to his study. It was an imposing room, filled with dark wooden furniture: a large desk with heavy, deep grains, and columns of bookshelves stuffed with books—some of them calling out to me with interesting titles on their spines. The arms of his chair were carved talons, and the relief of an eagle clutching a tulip rose over its high back.

  The fire which had burned through the Northwest wing had spared his section of the House, though the scent of sooty smoke still hung heavy in the air.

  My father was in his chair, his glasses pointed out the window at a crew repairing a charred brick wall. The morning sun slanting through the tall windows lit his face in sharp profile.

  His fingers were drumming upon a talon when I entered.

  I dipped my head, keeping my eyes to the ground. “Father, I’m here.”

  His fingers drummed faster. “How are you feeling? That wound on your face, it looks fresh.”

  “It’s a curse.”

  “We can find someone to clear it. A cleric… or a white witch.”

  “I asked for it.”

  A long suffocating silence followed. I glanced out to the workers pushing a fallen column back up. “Is there something you need of me?”

  The fingers stopped, and a deep, heavy sigh filled the empty space between us. “Josephine… Daughter. I have wronged you for so long.”

  “You’ve done nothing wrong, Father. You saved me.”

  “You saved… us all. At such cost.” He pushed up off his seat and walked around the desk to me.

  I looked to the side. On a raised bench, [Lightning Serpent] lay encased in a new leather sheath. “You were quite skilled with that.”

  He straightened and stepped toward me, looking determined. “I had wronged you by not doing anything, by not being there for you. I had left you stranded and alone because I was a coward.”

  “I…” What was I supposed to say to this man who I had only seen a handful of times since birth, even though we were under the same roof. This man whose wife I had…

  But the poison… if it’s the same wrongness as Elise’s then…

  No, I won’t dwell on that.

  “It’s in the past.”

  My father’s hand lifted my face by my chin. I could tell without looking that his eyes were staring at my face. “You look so much like her...” His finger traced over the wet line cutting across my left cheek. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Of course. You are your own person. I should never have…” He ran his fingers through his blue hair, seemingly debating with himself before coming to a conclusion. “Elise showed me your painting room.”

  I felt a stab at my chest. “What?! How?!”

  “Please, daughter…” My father gripped my shoulders so that I couldn’t pull away. “She was just concerned when she heard you disappear there for long periods of time.”

  “You painted a beautiful portrait of her. I was surprised by how life-like it was, like she had…” He shook his head vigorously, as if trying to free himself from her haunting ghost. “The daughter that you drew beside her… I don’t desire you to be someone different. She wouldn’t desire you to be someone different.”

  “What if… I’m supposed to be someone different.”

  Someone normal, with normal eyes, skin, and fate…

  “No, you are my daughter. And I am your father. I’m sorry for being so awful. Will you forgive me?”

  But it wasn’t up to me. Whether I killed my mother or not, that crime paled in comparison to the other, even more heinous one.

  I was still very much guilty.

  I reached deep into me and tried to coax that child out of me. She hadn’t surfaced in so long, probably scared by all the violence, and the sadness.

  She came. Perhaps sensing her father so close by.

  I let her settle into me and take hold of my limbs, my body, my lips.

  Speak child, say what you will, reveal me, lash out, you can punch the walls if you wish…

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  But the rage I braced for never came.

  Instead she reached out and pulled my father into a deep embrace. The warmth of him surrounded us.

  She whispered into his ear.

  “Father, I’m your daughter.”

  And for a moment we were one.

  —

  The crescent moon cast a pale light over her long, silver hair as she approached the window. An ethereal glow trailed down the length of her hair to her sheer, platinum gown, rippling over the contours of her body with each step forward.

  The scene was haunting, like the painting of some tragic ghost story.

  She jerked the long velvet curtain closed with a huff, breaking the spell.

  Her face when she turned from the window was twisted, her nose wrinkled, teeth bared and grinding.

  Her soul had a rather complex flavor profile, with hints of sweetness, savory, and a bit of spice all mixed in. I could even taste some tartness at the edge of it.

  “Future mother-in-law, is something bothering you?”

  I said from the seat that I found for myself in one shadowy corner.

  She jumped, her heeled slippers clacking hard against the mirrored stone floor. “What?! Who?!”

  My hand reached up and grabbed the writhing, shadowy fabric of my hood. I pulled it back, revealing my metallic blue hair, and my own pale face, with that wet malevolent line still carved across my left cheek. “It’s me, your future daughter-in-law. I came to inquire why you seemed so displeased with me.”

  Her pale blue eyes bounced about frantically. It was only now that I noticed they had a pinkish tint to them. “How did you get here?!”

  I leaned forward, resting my chin on the back of one hand. “Some men came to my house, and burnt down a portion of it. Now, we are here at our residence in the capital while repairs are being done. It’s my first time being in a big city… so thank you.”

  “I… have nothing to do with it! You got to believe me! It was Count Dorlin’s idea! Yes, all him.”

  I tilted my head. “So you admit you knew of it. And yet, you didn’t warn my father, a close and dear ally.”

  “You weren’t meant to be hurt, and neither was your brother. That pig-headed father of yours just needed a hard shove, and Elise… well that unappreciative bitch should’ve known her place.” Her eyes shot toward me, as if realizing something. “You weren’t on good terms with them anyways.”

  I palmed my forehead. “Your tongue is too loose, my possible future mother-in-law. And you’re too sloppy.”

  “How dare you!” She snapped back at me, pulling her head up high.

  “We’ve captured men alive who pointed the finger at you. They bear documents with your seal on it.” My finger traced over my jawline as I studied her shocked reaction. “Now, why would they carry documents with them on a raid? Was it you who approached the Count? Or the other way around?”

  I let the words sink in and jabbed in one more barbed needle. “...And the demons.”

  Tapping my chin, I slowly reeled her in. “Didn’t the previous king lose his head due to consorting with demons? I wonder if history will repeat itself, as it often does.”

  I’ve had enough of repeats. No more…

  “No!” The Consort cried wretchedly. She swooned, falling to her knees, her gown cascading into a pool around her. “I… have been set up!”

  My face was impassive as I watched her pathetic figure, practically groveling on the ground.

  I had suspected, and now that I saw her, I knew: she couldn’t be the one behind it all. She didn’t have the Dauphin’s eyes. She was just another stepping stone, another tool.

  This all had been too perfect, too well setup, too many layers. No, she wasn’t the one with the poison. This had the hallmarks of someone else.

  “That was obvious.” I eased back into my seat. “I had to push hard to convince Father not to go straight to the King.”

  “And he listened?!” She sounded incredulous, like that was the hardest thing to believe.

  “Yes, he listened to reason.”

  “Thank you, daughter-in-law! I knew there was a reason I picked you, so wise and graceful!” She dipped her head low, nearly touching the ground. “It’s that bitch, the Queen. I’m sure she had a hand in this… If there’s anything you want from my Tomas, just tell me. I’ll make sure he treats you extra well!”

  The steel in my voice lashed out. “Do not even THINK of using him against me or anyone else.”

  I’m such a hypocrite.

  She shrank back away from me, clutching her chest. “Of course… of course, he’s yours. All yours.”

  “I’m considering what to do with you. Caution demands that I cut out your tongue so you can no longer wag it so loosely. Justice, however, demands I take your head, because you did ask for the attack, and we’ve lost good men.”

  “I’m sorry. Please… I beg of you, I will do anything to make it up to you.”

  I shook my head slowly from side to side. “Virtue dictates I end you now. However…” I reached into my depths and unsheathed myself. The heat of my fury detached, falling away into the background.

  The consort cradled her head in her arms, shielding her face from me. Sweetness enveloped her soul.

  “I’m not virtuous. For now, our interests are aligned and I will let you keep your head. But the price will be high. Will you pay?”

  She forced her hands down, and finally nodded with trembling lips.

  “A storm is coming, and I need you to navigate the treacherous waters. Right now, you are a pawn. Weak and exploited.”

  I wagged a finger for her to come closer.

  “But even a pawn can become a Queen if she survives the board.”

  My eyes bored into hers, my lips pulling back to reveal teeth.

  “I need you to become more cunning and powerful. I need a piece that can rival her.”

  An empty glass vial appeared in my hand, and the writhing shadowy fabric that covered my arm stretched upwards, forming an arc that ended in a sharp, pointed tip.

  “First, I need a few drops of your blood.”

  It was finally time I made use of the knowledge that I had gleaned from Murion’s books, and the spell he had cast to compel me.

  A new game, a new pattern to be learned.

  It was time I embraced my [Demonic] side as well.