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Ingrith’s eyes narrowed at the jab. “I trust you’ll be comfortable using your hands?” Her tone was light, but Ingrith clearly meant to insult Maleficent with the remark. The Dark Fey was, after all, not exactly human.

Aurora glanced at Phillip. Their eyes met, and she silently pleaded with him to do something. Reading the look easily, Phillip tried to change the subject. “Such a warm spell of weather,” he said.

“It certainly is!” Aurora said, her voice sounding overly eager even to her own ears.

King John seemed oblivious to it all. He clinked his fork against his goblet. Because the glass was made of solid gold, it made more of a thud than a clink. But the noise got everyone’s attention. “We’d like to offer a small gift to Phillip and Aurora — to celebrate their glorious future together.” At his signal, a servant wheeled in a huge ornate solid-gold baby cradle and placed it in the middle of the room. “Ingrith chose it herself.”

Aurora and Maleficent stared at the cradle for a long moment, each one of them thinking the same thing: it wasn’t right for a baby. Cradles were meant to be comforting and cozy. What kind of baby could be soothed in something like that?

“It’s…lovely,” Aurora finally said, finding her voice and her manners first.

Ingrith looked pleased. “I simply can’t wait to have a little one running through the castle again,” she said.

Aurora tried not to look surprised. While Phillip had never said a bad word about his mother, he had never said anything overly warm, either. On more than one occasion, he had implied that he was far closer to his father because his mother had been distant. Aurora had a hard time imagining Ingrith chasing after a young Phillip. In fact, she couldn’t imagine it at all. But the statement was also upsetting. She and Phillip had never spoken of children. After all, they had only just gotten engaged. Plus she assumed any child would be raised in the Moors; that was her home.

It seemed Maleficent agreed. Dragging her eyes from the golden cradle, she turned her cold stare to Ingrith. “This castle?” she said.

Ingrith nodded. “Of course,” she answered, her tone as icy as Maleficent’s stare. “This will be their home.”

Maleficent looked at Aurora. She raised a perfectly arched brow as if to say, Oh, really?

But before Aurora could respond, King John bumbled on. “We hear Aurora has a castle of her own,” he said.

“Yes, I’m curious,” Ingrith added. “How did Aurora become queen of the Moors?”

Maleficent picked up the most harmless-looking item on her plate — a lone stalk of asparagus — and bit into it, the snap echoing in the overly large room. “I named her queen,” she answered simply.

“Her castle is quite stunning,” Phillip said, looking at his parents. “You must see it.” Aurora wanted to hug him. He was trying so hard to keep the conversation light.

But Ingrith was after something, and she wouldn’t be deterred. “But in fact,” she went on, “she has another castle, does she not?”

“Mother,” Phillip warned.

Ingrith brushed him off. “There’s one on the Moors — and one left behind by her father. King…Stefan, was it?”

At the mention of the man’s name, both Aurora and Maleficent bristled. Taking a deep breath, Aurora tried to calm her racing heart. She wasn’t sure why Phillip’s mother felt the need to bring up the past, but she was not going to let it ruin the present. Taking the high road, she nodded and said, “That castle was never my home. It was given to the people.”

“So you’re also a true princess,” Ingrith said, pressing on, “even though Stefan died — or was he killed? Remind me, did he die or was he killed?”

Any warmth that had crept into the room over the earlier part of the dinner evaporated. Seeing Aurora’s rosy cheeks lose some of their color, Maleficent frowned. “Both,” she snapped.

The room grew silent. Ingrith’s eyes were locked on Maleficent, while Maleficent’s were glued to her goddaughter. Aurora, meanwhile, just looked at her lap, willing her tears not to fall. She hated thinking of that night years ago. She had been given so much — Maleficent’s love, the Moors, Phillip — but the cost had been high. On a night that was supposed to be about the future, she was miserable thinking about the past.

“Because I remember the story of a baby,” Ingrith continued. “A baby cursed to sleep and never wake up.” As she spoke, her eyes remained fixed on Maleficent. It was clear the queen knew there was more to the story. But how much more did she know?

Oblivious, King John put a hand to his heart. “Now, who would do such a thing to an innocent child?” he asked, sounding truly horrified. Aurora would have smiled had she not been so upset. He really had no idea what was going on.

But Maleficent did. “There are many who prey on the innocent,” she said, “as I’m sure your kind would agree.”

“My kind?” Ingrith said. “You mean humans?”

Aurora had had enough. Looking up, she tried to put a stop to the conversation once and for all. “Shall we listen to the music?” she suggested. At the same time, Phillip raised a hand, signaling for another round of drinks.

But there was nothing they could do. The conversation would not be stopped.

“We have faeries missing from the Moors,” Maleficent said, “stolen by human poachers.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it,” King John said, looking truly surprised.

Maleficent lifted her pale, thin shoulders in the faintest of shrugs.

In a flash, Ingrith latched on to the Dark Fey’s gesture. Ingrith had been hoping for something like this to happen. There was glee in her eyes and excitement in her voice when she spoke. “It sounds as if you’re accusing His Majesty,” she said, feigning concern.

“Someone gave the order,” Maleficent retorted.

Instantly, Ingrith was on her feet, pointing at Maleficent. “How dare you accuse the king!”

The table erupted in voices. As Phillip rushed to Maleficent’s defense, the king wondered aloud why anyone would bother to steal a faerie. Ingrith, meanwhile, continued with her accusations. The only two who did not speak were Aurora and Maleficent, but the looks they exchanged spoke volumes.

Percival stepped forward and cleared his throat, earning the attention of the diners. Aurora turned. She knew him only from the stories Phillip had told her. But she did not like what she sensed. Her suspicions were confirmed when he finally spoke. “Your Majesty,” he said, addressing King John, “I must report two peasants were found dead just outside the Moors. They had been missing for several days.”

“I see,” King John said, though it was unclear if he did.

But Ingrith jumped at the news. “Yes, we all see,” she said. “The borders are open, but humans are not welcome! Isn’t that right?”

Aurora had listened for long enough. She had tried to brush off the conversation about her father. She had tried to pretend the cradle was not a thinly veiled power play. But she could not sit by while Ingrith made bold and erroneous statements about her kingdom. “May I ask what you are implying, Majesty?” she said, keeping her voice even.

“Innocent men are being slaughtered on the Moors,” Ingrith answered, “and she’s talking about faeries!”

At that moment, Arabella, who had spent much of the dinner under the table fussing at Diaval’s leg, took the opportunity to lunge up and attack. Diaval shouted as he tried to move out of the way. Just before the cat’s long claws reached Diaval’s face, Maleficent flicked a stream of green magic, lifting the cat into the air above the table, where she hovered like a feline chandelier.