“Your masquerade is in two days,” I say tonelessly. “It would be a shame to cancel it.”
She laughs, sweeping off the chair, her full, bronze skirt flowing with her as she walks across the room to meet me. “I do not plan to cancel it.”
“You traveled all this way to leave in the morning?” I ask.
She looks around the room, smiling to herself. “I always forget how quaint your father’s estate is. But it will do.”
A sense of foreboding travels my spine. “It will do for what?”
“I intend to hold the ball here.” She runs her finger over a side table, inspecting it for dust. Though there is none, she wrinkles her nose as if there was. “I’ve already informed my court.”
“I have no suitable place in which to hold your masquerade,” I say coldly. “There’s no ballroom here—you know that.”
Mother waves toward the window. “We’ll hold it outside. Doesn’t that sound lovely? It will be a garden party of sorts.” Slowly, she turns her feline gaze on me. “Is that a problem?”
“Do what you will,” I bite out.
She looks past me like she’s searching for something. “I must say, I’m quite disappointed. Ian says you have a new pet. I was so hoping you’d introduce us, and yet she seems to be absent.”
“Strange,” Ian says lazily. “They seemed so close when I was here a few days ago.”
“I can only assume you’re referring to the visiting artist, who is here to paint my portrait,” I say, ignoring the count. “She is nothing more and nothing less.”
Mother acts surprised. “You commissioned a portrait for yourself? I never realized my son is so vain.”
I could point out that she has no less than ten portraits of herself hanging in the castle, plus a statue in the garden, but it would play right into her hand. She wants to keep me talking, hoping I will eventually slip.
“Where is she now?” Mother asks when I don’t respond.
I begin to tell her that I don’t know where Alice is, but my magic practically strangles me—because I do know. She’s in my quarters.
“Why should I concern myself with the whereabouts of a human girl?” I say instead, giving her a look of disdain.
“Indeed,” Mother says smugly. “Well, nevertheless, I expect her to attend the masquerade tomorrow.” She turns to Ian. “It will be such a treat for a human girl, don’t you think?”
“A great treat,” he agrees.
“Alas, she will not be joining us,” I say.
Alice can’t attend a Fae gathering—not when she’s untethered. Who knows who might stake a claim before the night is over?
“She wishes to spend the holiday week in Kellington,” I continue, grateful when my magic lets me speak the words. It must be true.
“How quaint. But surely she can cancel her plans?” Mother asks. “It’s not every day a human girl gets to attend a Faerie masquerade.”
“We will see.”
Mother narrows her eyes. “At the very least, fetch her for tea now. I want to meet her.”
A ball of lead forms in my stomach, and I give her a respectful nod before I turn from the room. I rack my brain, searching for plausible excuses without having to lie.
When I open the door, I find Regina.
“Mother wants Alice to join us for tea,” I say heavily. “I don’t know what to do.”
“She’s not here.”
“Where is she?” I demand.