Page 69 of Fated to the Wicked King

Kiss-ass.

Sophie was going to make an incredible monarch.

“Our methods may be different,” she went on, “but I assure you, we both wish for the same thing. The good of all the people of Wünder.” Her declaration rang clear, confident. “I will personally appoint a committee to monitor this situation further, particularly to determine if the machine’s effects eventually do dissipate. And if it pleases Your Majesty, we shall keep you apprised of any progress. If it makes any difference, on behalf of the kingdom of Lucerne, I accept your proposal to work together to resolve this.”

The king’s eyebrow rose in suspicion. “In exchange for what?”

Sophie shrugged. “Goodwill. Nothing more.” She broke into a serene smile. “It might be difficult for you to accept, Your Majesty, but we are not all your enemies.”

“At least begrudgingly,” Gregory couldn’t help his mumbling, but not quietly enough, apparently.

Gritting his teeth, the king shoved off the wall with a start. “Let me at least kill him⁠—”

Jumping, I caught his arm. “No, no, no, no, no.”

Eyes twinkling with bemusement, Sophie stifled her chuckle behind her hand. “We’d best be going. It was truly an honor to meet you.” She curtsied low once again.

The king waved her away.

But Sophie was looking at me. “My lady, from another world.”

Twenty-One

WHITE QUEEN

Sophie and Gregory’s horses rode away along the trail beneath the canopy of moss-draped trees, galloping down the winding forest path until flashes of pale gold and white vanished around the bend entirely, the clip-clop of hooves fading into the hush of the wetlands, the rustle of willow branches.

“Shame.” Chez’s disembodied head purred by my ear as it floated in mid-air, something he did from time to time. “I should have liked them to stay a bit longer. Especially that sassy princess.”

“I know, right?” Linking my fingers behind my back, I turned to face the large country estate.

Rising from the mist-laced landscape, its stone façade was softened by the embrace of nature. Classic arched windows reflected the shifting light of the lagoon surrounding it, while creeping vines and flowering tendrils traced their way along the pastel walls. Ornate wrought-iron balconies curled around its upper levels in intricate, delicate patterns, weathered by years of humid air.

Chez plopped on the stone path beside me, his furry feline form fully visible once again. “Are you feeling recovered?”

I nodded. “Much.” I narrowed my eyes questioningly as we walked back toward the house. “By the way, how did the Duchess know we were in trouble? Let alone how to find us?”

“My lady has a particularly rare talent for seeing things that are to come. I occasionally joke that she lives backward in time. She would scream before even being hurt.”

My mind spun at the irrational madness. Much like the horses having been magically transported all the way from Emberstead. It was yet another thing to chalk up to the unfathomable magic of the Land of Wünder.

Chez tilted his head in consideration. “I take it the past couple of days have been…eventful?”

I blew out a breath. “I suppose one might say that. Then again, my days in your mystical land have rarely been uneventful.”

He gave me a knowing grin. “Touché.”

I hadn’t really given it much thought before, but for the first time, I wondered if my normal life held this much excitement. Given recent events, the fresh potential of finding out who I really was nagged more and more at the back of my mind.

A brush of vague apprehension struck me at the notion.

Was I ready?

It was one of those things one wouldn’t be able to unlearn once learned. I would have to be one or the other. The person I was or the person I used to be. At some eventual point, I was going to have to choose.

All these months, I had been working hard on my invention, focusing on the task, on my one clear goal.

I hadn’t even stopped to think that going home would mean leaving here.