Page 46 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

I take a sip of tea, hoping to hide my wince. I didn’t even realize that’s what I was doing.

Get it together, Elara. You don’t have time to waste.

I lower the teacup. “You’re right.”

“I know I am.” Wise eyes lock on me over the delicate cup. “Whitestone tells me you cannot speak of the Fae.”

I blink. “He told you?”

“Of course he did,” she says, then frowns at the smirk tugging on my lips. “And keep your comments to yourself. Am I correct in assuming you’re here regarding your deal?”

I nod and stiffen, but relief floods through me when the heat around my neck stays dormant. “I need…help.”

“I’ll help you in any way I’m able, child.” Affection softens her glassy eyes. “Tell me what you can.”

I take a deep breath, brace myself, and then begin to run through different facts and questions to see what the power at my throat will permit me to say.

There’s a cursed Fae in the forest…

Burning.

Do you know anything about Fae illnesses?

The burning morphs into a flickering flame.

Have you heard of a curse that causes Fae flesh to decay?

The flame flares hotter in warning.

Thought after thought, nothing meets the approval of the magical chokehold wrapped around my throat. I fidget in my chair and scowl at the marred table.

Juniper’s patient stare rests on me.

The quiet sound of her sips reaches my ears, and I think she must be nearly done with her tea before I’m finally about to grind out, “I need information on Fae.”

I pant for breath, frustrated that I can’t be more specific, but relieved to finally have figured out something to say.

A line forms between Juniper’s brows as she purses her lips. “Hm… Historical information?”

I shake my head.

“Information about the royal family? Their magic?”

Both forbidden topics would be fascinating to dive into, but they won’t help me lift Darius’s curse. I shake my head again, exhaling a thread of frustration that I can’t say more.

“I see.” The teacup rattles as Juniper sets it on the saucer. “I suppose there is only one thing a Fae soldier would want with a renowned mortal healer.”

She stands and shuffles out of the room. I rise and follow, frowning when she kneels on the floor by the fireplace. Her joints crack.

“Juniper?” I rush forward. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you information.” She takes the fire poker and, with a grunt, wedges it between two planks tucked against the wall.

My jaw drops when one of the planks pops free with a sudden snap.

I lean over her shoulder and gape at the dusty opening. “What is that?”

“Don’t tell me you’re surprised I have secrets.” She looks at me with a twinkle in her eyes, then reaches into the mysterious hole.