“Then why send me at all, if . . .” I look away, at the storm rolling in, feeling the air begin to stir with anticipation of the coming thunder. The horizon is curtained by a dark sweep of rain. Understanding strikes me like a bullet. My head whips around, my eyes locking on his. “You mean for him to do it,” I breathe. “You want Conrad to fetch the Dwirra branch, to betray the queen. And you think he would do it for my sake?” He says nothing, but I see my answer in his chilled gaze. I feel bile in my throat; all of this, from the beginning, has been his orchestration. We were all puppets in
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