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Im really happy that I get to stay in Fennbirn a while longer and tell it.
Genevieve was banished from the house for only a few months.
Credit: HarperTeen
It will be good to sleep in my own bed again, Genevieve says.
Your bed in town is also your own, says Natalia.
Do not act as though it were a hardship.
Natalia studies her little sister from the corner of her eye.
Genevieves cheeks are rosy pink, and her lilac irises sparkle.
Long, blond hair tumbles past her shoulder.
People say she is the beautiful Arron sister.
If they only knew what wicked thoughts whirled inside that pretty head.
Now that you are home, says Natalia.
What is the Council whispering?
The story has been told as you instructed, Genevieve replies.
But they have still heard the stories.
Genevieve waves her hand.
Nonsense becomes truth if enough mouths repeat it.
What sort of nonsense?
That Katharine did not survive at all.
They have been calling her Katharine the Undead.
She crosses her arms.
But she still does not like it.
But what did happen to her, in the days that she was missing?
Do even you not know?
Mute in the foyer with filthy black hair hanging over her face.
She had looked like a monster.
I know enough, Natalia says, and turns on her heel.
They say she has changed.
How has she changed?
Is she strong enough yet to return to her poison training?
Poison training will not be necessary.
But she says nothing.
Genevieve tucks her traveling gloves into the pocket of her breeches.
She looks very smart in her soft, brushed carnelian jacket.
She claps at imagined dust on her thigh.
So much to do, she says.
The suitors will arrive any day.
Natalias mouth twists up at the corner.Suitors.But only one requested first court with Katharine.
The golden-blond boy, Nicolas Martel.
Arsinoe, with her scarred face, trousers with frayed cuffs, and shorn, unkempt hair.
No one could be attracted to that.
They must be curious about her bear.
Who would have thought our queen would have only one request?
Genevieve says, reading Natalias sour expression.
It does not matter.
Nicolas Martel is the finest of the bunch.
Were it not for our long alliance with Billy Chatworths father, he would be my top choice.
Billy Chatworth has been lost to the Bear Queen, Genevieve mutters.
The whole island knows that.
Billy Chatworth will do as his father commands, Natalia snaps.
And do not call Arsinoe the Bear Queen.
We do not want that to stick.
They turn the corner past Katharines staircase.
She is not in her rooms?
Genevieve asks as they pass by.
you’re free to never tell where she is anymore.
A maid carrying a vase of white oleander blooms pauses to drop a curtsy.
Where is the queen?
In the solarium, the girl replies.
Thank you, says Genevieve.
Then she yanks the girls cap off her head to reveal dark brown roots beneath fading Arron-blond dye.
Now go and tend to your hair.
The solarium is bright and open, with many uncovered windows.
White paint on the walls, and multi-colored pillows on the sofa.
It hardly belongs in the Arron house and is usually empty, unless they are entertaining guests.
But Natalia and Genevieve find Katharine inside humming, surrounded by wrapped packages.
Look who is home, Natalia says.
Katharine presses a lid onto a pretty purple box.
Then she turns to face them, smiling broadly.
Genevieve, Katharine says.
It is good to have you and Antonin at Greavesdrake again.
Genevieves mouth hangs open.
She has not seen Katharine since the day after she returned.
And Katharine was such a mess then.
Still filthy, and with so many fingernails missing.
As she stares at Katharine now, it is not difficult for Natalia to guess what she is thinking.
Where is the little girl with her large foolish eyes and tightly braided bun?
The skinny girl who bows her head and only laughs after someone else laughs first?
But wherever that Katharine is, it is not here.
Antonin, Genevieve murmurs once she finds her voice.
He is already here?
Of course, Natalia replies.
I asked him back first.
Shocked as Genevieve is by the sight of the queen, she does not even pout.
She simply coils her fingers and drags her farther into the room.
Do you like my presents?
Katharine asks, gesturing to the packages.
They are all beautiful, wrapped in colored paper and tied with satin ribbon or large white velvet bows.
Who are they from?
Not from, Katharine says.
Katharine caresses the nearest bit of ribbon with a black-gloved finger.
Will you tell us what is inside them, Natalia asks, or must we guess?
Katharine tosses a tendril of hair over her shoulder.
Inside she will find many things.
A dried chrysanthemum bulb painted with toxin, to bloom into poisoned tea.
This will never work, Genevieve says.
They will be checked.
You cannot kill Mirabella with prettily wrapped poison presents.
We nearly killed that naturalist with a prettily wrapped poison present, Katharine counters in a low voice.
But you are probably right.
These are only a bit of fun.
Natalia looks over the boxes.
There are more than a dozen, of various sizes and colors.
Each will likely be transported individually, by separate courier.
Those couriers will be changed several times, in different cities, before arriving in Rolanth.
It seems a lot of trouble to go to for just a bit of fun.
Katharine finishes inking a gift tag with dark stars and swirls.
Then she sits on the gold-and-white brocade sofa and reaches for a plate of belladonna berries.
She turns toward Natalia, but there is no explanation to give.
When Katharine recovered from her wounds, she turned to the poisons and began to devour them.
There is still no word from Pietyr?
Katharine asks, wiping juice from her chin.
And I do not know what to tell you.
I wrote him immediately after you returned, to summon him back.
I have also written to my brother inquiring about what is keeping him.
But there has been no response from Christophe either.
I will write to Pietyr myself, then, says Katharine.
She presses a gloved hand to her stomach as the belladonna berries take effect.
If Katharines gift had come, the poison should not cause her pain.
I will have a letter ready before I leave for the temple this evening.
That is a good idea, Natalia says.
I am sure you will be able to persuade him.
She motions to Genevieve so they might leave the solarium.
She does not know how to behave.
Genevieve frowns, and drops a lazy curtsy.
Has her gift come, then?
Genevieve whispers once she and Natalia have mounted the stairs.
The way she ate those berries.
But I could feel that her hands were swollen through the gloves.
I do not know, Natalia replies quietly.
Could it be the gift developing?
If it is, I have never seen any gift develop similarly.
If her gift has not come she must take care.
she could harm herself.
But I cannot seem to stop her.
What happened to her?
Where was she for those days?
Natalia thinks back to the shadow of a girl who walked through her front door, gray-skinned and cold.
Despite the warmth of the summer air, she craves a fire and a blanket around her shoulders.
Perhaps it is better not to know.
Katharines letter to Pietyr consists of only three lines.
Dearest Pietyr,
Return to me now.
Do not be afraid.
Your,
Queen Katharine
Poor Pietyr.
She likes to imagine him hiding somewhere.
The night he threw her down into it.
So he will still think me his gentle little queen.
I must not scare him.
He probably thinks that he will be put into the cells beneath the Volroy when he returns.
That she will allow some war-gifted guard to beat his head against the walls until his brains run out.
But Katharine has not told anyone about his role in her fall that night.
And she has no plans to.
Katharine looks out her window from where she sits at her writing desk.
Even the mountains seem hunched in comparison, backing off like trolls brought down by a shining light.
The belladonna berries roll in Katharines stomach, but she does not wince.
She leans over and pushes the window open.
These days her rooms smell slightly of sickness and whatever animals she is testing her poisons on.
A few lie inside dead, waiting to be cleared out.
She taps the cage on the corner of her desk to rouse the small gray mouse inside.
It is blind in one eye, and mostly bald from Katharines rubbed poisons.
Once, I was a mouse, she says, and strips off her glove.
She reaches into the cage to stroke the rodents tiny bald haunches.
But I am not anymore.
One Dark Thronehits bookstands September 19th.
