I glanced at the mirror across the room, my black eye prominent even in the dim light. “Another week,” I ventured. My gran had the knack for herbs and healing, and she’d taught a lot of it to my sister, but I’d never paid much attention. I hadn’t needed to.

“Mercy!” The Duchesse shouted the word, making me jump. “So long? It amazes me you survive a trip to the privy, you humans are so fragile. Élise!” she hollered, rather unnecessarily, given the girl was already in the room.

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“Is your aunt in the city?”

I saw the nearly imperceptible tightening around Élise’s eyes at the mention of Esmeralda. “She is, Your Grace.”

“Go see if she has anything that might speed up the girl’s healing. I’m tired of her looking like one of those dreadful drawings my eight year-old nephew is always sending to me.”

“He uses a lot of color, I take it,” I said, examining the virulent bruises on my arms.

“He uses a lot of gore,” the Duchesse corrected. “Now tell me, do you know how to dance?”

It turned out that I did not know how to dance, at least not by troll standards, and my aching toes did not let me forget it as I stood in the ballroom of Marc’s manor, watching trolls glide across the floor.

Esmeralda had been all too truthful in her description of them. Seen like this, en masse, with only me and a handful of half-blood servants to color the mix with human blood, it was like watching a circus freak show while being locked in a madhouse. At least half of them were marked with physical deformities or were clearly not sound of mind, but power crawled through the room, making it hot. I watched them with wide eyes, half afraid and half entranced by the bizarre display.

A prickle ran down my spine.

“They are all here,” said a deep voice. “Even now, none of them dare test the limits of my power.”

I stiffened before dropping into a curtsey. “Your Majesty.” The King stood beside me, arms crossed, though how he had gotten his bulk there without me noticing was a mystery.

“They are all here to prove their support for our continued reign, but my son, my heir, is notably absent.”

I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to run. Something about Tristan’s father filled me with dread. It was like having a shark circle you in the water, knowing it intended to strike, but not when.

“I cannot even begin to describe what it is like to spend one’s life trapped. To be the most powerful being in this world, but reduced to ruling a dark, dank cavern. To be forced to rely on the greed of lesser creatures for sustenance. For life.” He sighed, shifting his massive bulk. “It violates the order of the universe.”

Stones and sky! If I hadn’t been so darned terrified, I would have rolled my eyes at his arrogance. Order of the universe?