“I see,” said Willow, though she didn’t.
“We’ve been stitched, of course,” Poppy added. “Not with thread, though that’s been done in the past. No, this is worse. The Nip does it with magic. Quiet as a shadow, fast as a blink.”
She met Willow’s eyes in the mirror. “Shall I tell you what would happen if we told anyone—and I meananyone—what goes on at the pond?”
Willow swallowed. “Y-yes?”
“Our tongues would be cut out. And our lips? Ripped clean off and made into stew... stew we’d be forced to eat ourselves, every last mouthful.” She nodded meaningfully. “‘Tell what’s sealed, and your lips get peeled.’ They use a paring knife, I’ve heard. A dull one.”
Willow placed a hand on her stomach, queasy.
“Don’t fret, miss. We won’t tell. We would never, even if we hadn’t been stitched by the Nip,” Poppy said. “Some things aren’t meant for public consumption. It’s just the way of it.”
Willow frowned. On the one hand, she was glad the story of the damp bird hadn’t been shared across the court. On the other hand...
“Why such secrecy?” she asked. “If a bird from my world helps your prince, why not be open about it?”
“Because the realm has its fair share of fools,” Poppy said disapprovingly. “There are rebels who would love to see the queen unseated and the prince weakened, and proof of ‘blood rot’—that’s what they call it—would go a long way in persuading country-winged simpletons to their side. Why give the rebels fodder when you did nothing but pull a bird out of thin air?”
“It wasn’t from thin air,” Willow said. “It was a real bird, taken from a real world.”
“Well now, it was amortalbird, taken from themortalworld,” Poppy said, scrunching her nose. She patted Willow’s shoulder. “Even so, it was a fine gift to give the prince. You should be proud.”
Willow sighed. “I haven’t even been allowed to see him.”
“There, there. You will,” Poppy soothed. “He’ll be getting ever so much stronger now that you’re here.” She glanced at a timepiece pinned to her bodice. “Oh my! We’ve got to get you dressed and ready, and we’ve only nineteen minutes to do it!”
She pulled Willow to the closet, where a new gown hung like an offering. “The queen sent this for you. Said the blue would bring out your eyes.”
“But my eyes are brown,” Willow pointed out.
“Then it’ll bring out your aura. Or your disposition. Or something.” She waved a hand. “The queen says blue, so blue it is.”
She pulled the dress free and helped Willow into it. “There we are... arms up—yes, like that.”
“It’s exactly my size,” Willow marveled as the fabric fell around her.
“Of course it is. It was tailored just for you. Nona stayed up all night finishing it, you know. Tried to bow out, said her fingers were bleeding. A firm cuffing got her back in line.”
“Acuffing?”
“Here we go again,” Poppy said, shaking her head. “Youaretenderhearted, aren’t you?”
“If by ‘tenderhearted’ you mean that I’m not a fan of people being cuffed, I suppose I am.”
“Listen to me, miss,” Poppy said. “Nona’s one of the Blighted, so don’t fret over her. They don’t feel punishments the way others do.”
“The Blighted,” Willow said. “Like the girl you and Jace were talking about last night, the one who was assaulted by a visitor to the palace.”
“Maeve,” Poppy said. “That’s right. But was she assaulted?” She pursed her lips. “Jace is as tenderhearted as you are. That’s why I kept quiet last night.” She lifted her eyebrows. “But who’s to say it wasn’t Maeve who cornered the dignitary and not the other way around?”
Willow felt a wave of nausea.
“The Blighted are wicked,” Poppy went on. “There’s not an evil deed in the world I wouldn’t put past them.”
She saw Willow’s expression and softened. “I don’t say that to be cruel, miss. They’re born that way. That’s how the duskwyrms sniff them out.”
“That’s how the duskwyrms...” Willow felt dizzy. “Sorry, what?”
