Belle had wanted to enjoy this strange part of the forest whirling by them, as well as the way Daivad’s and Maxea’s magics were once again in such perfect sync, but Daivad had to go and ruin the whole experience by talking.

“You want me to talk to the whole camp?” Belle asked, voice high. “All at once?”

“They’ve been robbed of enough choices,” Daivad said. Belle could feel the rumble of his chest against her shoulders. “I won’t rob them of this one too.”

Belle looked over her shoulder at him, but he kept his eyes trained on the forest ahead. She smiled.

Once upon a time, performing was when Belle had been happiest. Most at peace. Most connected to the Mothers. But then…

She stopped smiling and faced forward.

Since that first performance Belle had done for Richard five years ago, all subsequent performances had been for him as well. They weren’t hers anymore, they were his. She’d forgotten completely what it was like to feel safe before an audience, to feel like herself. She didn’t know how to do it anymore.

But Daivad was right to require the approval of the others in his camp before committing to anything. And Belle knew she was the best hope she had for convincing them. Jac was only barely on board herself, and even if she was, the crux of any argument she made for officially rebelling against the crown would likely be some sort of arm wrestling contest, and Belle wasn’t sure that would be nearly as compelling to others as it was to Jac. Belle had to do this. And she had better fucking do it well, if she wanted to free Mama B. And free herself.

She let out a wobbling breath, unsure how long they’d been riding in silence. “Okay. I’ll talk to them. I just … can I have a day or two? To … prepare?”

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Daivad considered this. Maxea and Drauge were slowing, and Belle realized that she’d been so busy worrying that she’d forgotten to enjoy the ride.

“If you try to run again—”

“I won’t.”

“No matter how much the forest calls you–”

“Promise.” She stuck her pinky finger at him over her shoulder.

She hadn’t really expected him to take the pinky promise, but still. It was a little rude that he just ignored it.

He said, “Tomorrow night. The meeting will be tomorrow night, and the next morning we’ll take you back into Urden, whether they agree to work with you or not.”

Belle tipped her head all the way back so she had to look up at him almost cross-eyed. “Does that mean you’ve officially decided not to kill me?”

“Not officially.”

“I’ll take it.” She smiled up at him.

“You and your friend will be with a guard at all times. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your beast will not come into camp. If it does, it will be killed. Understand?”

“Clarix won’t hurt any—!”

“There are children living here, Nyxabella. And people who can’t defend themselves. I won’t let a monster near them. Understand?”

She sighed, then straightened. “Yes, sir…”

“You and your friend will stay within camp bounds at all times. Understand?”

“What if I need to go check on Clarix?”

After a moment, he said, “Get permission first.”

“From you?”

“Yes.”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“You said you wanted to earn my trust,” he said as Maxea came to a stop. “You can start by following the rules.”