The Stepsister Scheme

swapped it out and brought it to Snow. I wasn’t thinking about anyone using the flames as scrying magic.” She glanced away. “Well, Snow likes pink. But the first time she lit the wick, she told us there was an elf watching on the other side of the flame.”
    “Why would the Duchess want to watch us?” Danielle asked.
    “For her own amusement, probably,” said Talia. “I’m sure it’s a great show, watching the poor humans stumble around, arguing and trying one foolish plan after another, until we finally open a door and unleash our doom.” She scowled at the fire. “Arrogant fairy bi—”
    “Wait,” said Danielle. She stared down into the flames. “Are you sure she’s watching?”
    “She has to know what’s happening out there on the bridge,” said Talia. “She probably knows we made it past her goblins. Yes, I’m sure.”
    Danielle straightened. Fairies had to play by the rules, after all. “Duchess,” she said, speaking as firmly as she could. She tried to imitate the way Queen Beatrice spoke when she held court. “I am Princess Danielle Whiteshore, future queen of Lorindar. I have been held in your home against my will, and I would speak with you.”
    Taking Talia’s arm, Danielle walked toward the closest door.
    “What are you doing?” Talia twisted free.
    “Even the Duchess has to follow the treaty,” Danielle said. “If I die, she will have knowingly murdered a member of the royal family.” She grabbed the handle of the door.
    “Are you sure?” Talia asked.
    Danielle forced a grin. “Trust me.”
    Talia rolled her eyes, but didn’t try to pull Danielle away.
    Danielle held her breath. She knew she was right. She had to be right. The Duchess’ role in this game was defined by her ignorance, her willing blindness to the identity of Danielle and Armand. She opened the door.
    Nothing but blackness lay beyond. She heard Talia readying her crossbow. Putting a hand on her sword, Danielle stepped through the doorway.
    Her foot touched stone. A feast of smells made her mouth water. Baked lamb, fresh bread, and some sort of sweet, fruity sauce or jam. Another step, and the darkness began to fade. A chandelier floated in the blackness ahead. Three rings of candles hung suspended by ropes of braided gold. Crystal teardrops dangled between the candles, capturing the light like tiny stars.
    Danielle kept walking until she found herself in a long dining room. Marble staircases curved up the walls. Blue-and-white flowers bloomed from living railings. In the center of the room sat a table of polished black stone. At the far end of the table, beyond the platters and the goblets, a golden brazier burned with a warm blue flame.
    Brahkop the troll was just rising from an oversized chair. To his left, sitting at the head of the table, sat a slender woman in a robe of white silk. The Duchess, presumably. She was a small woman, almost childlike. Golden threads in her robe wove images of birds which flew endless circles around her torso, twisting and diving to follow the contours of her body. Her hair was pure white, cut short and wild like a young boy’s. A thin circlet of platinum sat on her brow, decorated with flakes of jade. Long, slender ears tapered to a point just above her crown. Her eyes were too large for her face, and they stared unblinking at Danielle and Talia.
    Beside her, clasping the Duchess’ hand in his own, sat Prince Armand.
    He wore a black robe cut in the same style as the Duchess’. A serpentine dragon in silver thread undulated around his chest as he stood. His sword still hung from his hip. Danielle’s chest tightened. There was no recognition in Armand’s eyes.
    “Duchess,” snapped Brahkop. “This is a slave girl, a rebellious servant of my wife.”
    All true, Danielle noted. Incomplete, but true. Brahkop was being very careful not to lie to the Duchess.
    Danielle opened her mouth, then froze. What was the proper form of address for a Duchess? My Lady? Your Grace? Were the titles different among fairykind? Her studies with The Mortal’s Guide to Faerie Courtesy seemed a lifetime ago. The last thing she wanted to do was offend the Duchess.
    She glanced back, but Talia appeared to be waiting for her. Was she actually following Danielle’s lead?
    Danielle swallowed and approached the table. “I’ve come for my husband... Your Grace.” “Grace” seemed an appropriate word for one of fairy blood. The Duchess’ expression didn’t change. “Prince Armand was