The Stepsister Scheme

taken from me by my stepsisters, Charlotte and Stacia. That troll helped them use witchcraft to twist his affections.”
    The Duchess raised Armand’s hand to her lips and planted a soft kiss on the knuckles. Danielle’s chest tightened.
    “I know nothing of witchcraft.” Her voice was musical. “And your stepsister Stacia is host to a queen, which gives her higher standing than yourself, even if your claim is an honest one. She tells me Armand followed her of his own accord.” Long fingers stroked the prince’s arm. “Over time, Armand has come to appreciate my hospitality.”
    Danielle’s hand was halfway to her sword before she caught herself. No doubt that was precisely what the Duchess wanted. If Danielle attacked, the Duchess would be within her rights to defend herself.
    “Do you know this girl, Armand?” the Duchess asked.
    Armand pursed his lips. His hair was longer than the last time Danielle had seen him, giving him a scruffy, wild look. His skin had paled, and his movements were listless. Danielle searched for any sign of recognition on that stubbled face.
    Armand didn’t have the keenest eyesight. Why else had he needed to bring along Danielle’s forgotten slipper to confirm her identity, after the ball? But surely he had to know her now.
    “I believe so,” Armand said slowly. His next words crushed any hope Danielle might have felt. “Weren’t you a servant at my palace, once?”
    Brahkop chuckled. The Duchess turned back to Danielle.
    Danielle pointed to Brahkop. “My stepsister may host a queen, but he is nothing but an exile, banished from both Fairytown and Lorindar. Demand the truth from him.” She smiled at Brahkop. “You wouldn’t dare lie to the Duchess, would you?”
    Brahkop snarled and moved toward Danielle.
    “Well, Brahkop?” The Duchess’ soft words stopped the troll dead. A predatory grin played at her lips. She appeared to be enjoying this confrontation. “How do you answer?”
    Brahkop said nothing. As Danielle had hoped, he seemed unable or unwilling to lie to the Duchess. But the contract he had made with Stacia and Charlotte bound him to silence.
    Faint lines creased the Duchess’ forehead. “Brahkop the exile, you are here as the husband of my guest, on my sufferance. I would be greatly displeased to find you have abused that hospitality.”
    “Never, Your Grace.” Apparently Danielle had guessed the right title after all. Brahkop turned to face the Duchess. “This woman assaulted me in my home and ordered my shop destroyed. She was born a commoner, and sought to gain the hand of the prince through magic and deceit.”
    The Duchess looked at Danielle. “Attacking one of our people is frowned upon, child. Even a casteless exile like him.”
    “Grant me one kiss,” Danielle said. “Let me break the spell on Armand, and he will tell you himself.”
    “No!” Brahkop started to move toward her, then froze.
    “Oops,” whispered Talia.
    “No?” The Duchess’ voice was soft, but the unspoken threat in that single syllable made Danielle shiver. “You forget yourself, troll.”
    “Forgive me, Your Grace.” Brahkop bowed low. “I meant—”
    “Your stepsisters are human,” the Duchess said, turning her back on Brahkop. “As is the prince. The treaty clearly prohibits me from interfering in human affairs.” She glided toward the nearest staircase. “Therefore, I must leave you to settle matters among yourselves.”
    As she climbed the steps, a shadow broke away from the wall. A slender, taller version of the darklings moved to follow. An older darkling, perhaps? Where the children were wild and uncontrolled, this one moved with the easy grace of a snake. Had Danielle actually tried to attack the Duchess, he would have killed her before she knew he was there.
    Talia’s breath tickled her neck. “Brahkop won’t move until the Duchess is gone. Once she’s out of sight, get to the prince. You have to break the spell. I’ll deal with the walking hairball.”
    Armand started to follow the Duchess. She glanced down at him and waved. “Stay there, darling.” She plucked one of the blossoms from the railing and brought it to her nose. With a thin smile, she turned to Danielle. “If you’ve made it this far, I suppose that means your stepsister Stacia is dead.”
    She disappeared up the stairs before Danielle could answer.
    “Stacia... dead?” Armand stepped away from the table, clearly shaken by the Duchess’ words. “I loved her, once.”