Uncharted, p.9
Uncharted, page 9
“Yes. It’s not fair to you to stay. We’ll return to the palace.” He snapped a finger, and like before, a servant appeared. This time, instead of a tray of wine, he carried a cloak, which Beverly fastened around my neck.
“There.” He smiled, and I put on my bravest smile in return. “Still a princess.”
“We don’t have to go.” With the cloak, the stain was hardly visible, though now I felt shabby in the plain gray.
He squeezed my hand. “The privilege of royalty extends not only to making an entrance but to taking our leave any time we choose. Come. There will be other parties.”
But this one had barely started. I glanced over my shoulder, and a dozen or more heads snapped away from me, as if they had—and they undoubtedly had—been listening to every word being said.
“Take me back to the palace,” I said.
The ride home was less eventful than the trip to the gardens. After Beverly fretted a little longer over my dress and I assured him I was fine, we lapsed into silence, which didn’t bother me in the least. I was exhausted. The carriage rolled through dark country roads, swaying gently, and I dozed as my mind reeled from everything that had happened.
By the time we’d arrived at the palace, I must have dropped off completely, because I started when Beverly set a hand on my shoulder.
“I don’t mind carrying you,” he said, wide smile visible even in the dark.
I forced myself to sit up straight. “I’m all right.”
Servants opened the doors for us as we approached. Another privilege of royalty. Regardless of the time, there were always lights on in the great hall and servants ready to open the door. That privilege, however, did not appear to extend to my own personal servant, because Rosie was nowhere to be seen.
Beverly pressed a gentle kiss against my cheek. “Good night, George. You were perfect today.”
My sleepy brain faltered, and all I could do was bob with a curtsy. “Thank you.”
He laughed softly. “Sleep well. I have something special planned for tomorrow.” His hand lingered in mine, but then he turned and left.
Despite the time and my fatigue, I was able to find my way back to my room, only getting turned around once. Rosie was asleep in a chair as I let myself in, but she sprang to attention as I closed the door, eyes wide and voice mournful at the state of my gown.
“Two dresses in one day!” she said as she undid the laces. “And the fur too! I don’t think we’ll be able to save this.”
Today had been an adventure and definitely far more of a success than the previous one. The prince was . . . well, he was temperamental. Spoiled. But not a monster. I almost wished he was. Things had been simpler when I’d been prepared to hate him. Two days ago, I’d felt smart and brave doing what I could to help Niall and spread the truth about the prince and his actions. I felt outmatched in every way, and I wondered if I’d been making any difference at all.
I slept, but not gently. Ideas and strategies whirled through my mind. I should try to escape. I should sneak a letter to Niall. I could confide in Rosie and we could go together. I could stay and be the queen that Redmere needed so desperately. No more passing letters. Here, if I could find a place, I could be a real champion for the people. Beverly wasn’t a monster. Perhaps he would listen to me like he had in the garden last night.
When the sun finally peeked through the windows, I climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb Rosie. A soft robe was draped over one of the arms of the sofa, and I pulled it on before hastily pinning my veil into place. I needed to find the prince. If nothing else, I wanted to make sure the man in red from the party last night had really been released. And I wanted to talk more about the families at the harbor. Feeding them was a kind gesture. Finding ways to help them and others like them, even after their pensions were paid, would be better.
But where to find the prince? I had no idea where he stayed when he was in the palace.
“Rosie.” I shook her.
“Mm?” she muttered sleepily.
“Where are the prince’s rooms?”
“What?” Rosie rolled toward me, rubbing at her eyes.
“I want to find the prince. Where would he be?”
“His rooms are past the gardens,” she said, pushing up to her elbows. “But you want to see him now?”
“Yes.” I felt like I’d been awake for hours. No reason to wait. He had me perpetually off-balance, and if the best I could manage was to catch him before he was dressed for the day, I’d have to be satisfied with it for now.
“I’ll get you some clothes. Let me come with you.”
“No, it’s fine.” I didn’t need an escort or a guide. I wanted to meet the prince as an equal, not a child who needed to be supervised all the time.
I made my way from my room to the palace hall with no trouble at all and mentally patted myself on the back for my success. The trip to the garden was more difficult. Rosie had led the way there the day before, and she’d taken a number of side trips to show off various rooms and features of the palace. Whether that was the most direct route was hard to say, but I did my best, and passed rooms I knew and portraits hung on the wall that I recognized.
Somewhere, I must have missed a turn, because I found myself in a short hall with only one door. When I opened it, I wound up in a library. The walls were covered from the floor to the tops of the high ceilings with books. I’d never been a great reader other than the adventure stories Lou and I had read together. My tutors had tried to instill a love of literature, but I’d never found the stories and warnings of long-dead men particularly appealing. But surely here, where there must have been more books than there were people in the city, I would find something I would like.
Maybe Beverly liked to read? This was his library, after all. I hadn’t yet given much thought to how the prince spent his time when he wasn’t busy doing princely things. A man who liked to read couldn’t be all bad.
From the far end of the room, voices filtered through a door that had been left ajar. It was early, but apparently, I was not the only person awake in the palace.
As I drew closer to the door, the voices became more distinct. I recognized Beverly’s first and then the count’s soon after. My pulse picked up. I paused long enough to make sure I wasn’t interrupting. They were mid-conversation, and while I doubted they would mind my arrival, I’d wait if they were discussing something important.
It did seem that they were.
“Don’t be so arrogant,” Crawford said. “You cannot risk a land war for the sake of a few miles of trade route.”
“But we need to establish trade with Yagrad. All we have left that anyone wants to buy is fish and wool, neither of which earn nearly enough money.”
“We can simply go around the Oarian border and cross into Yagrad from the south. It’s only a few miles.”
I didn’t know where these places were. I’d never been on a journey longer than the trip from my father’s house to school, and then from school to the city. Neither had taken more than a few days.
“A few miles? It’s half a mountain range. It would take weeks to go around!” Beverly sounded irritated.
“Better than paying the tariffs in Oaria to go through.”
“We can’t afford them anyway.” He sighed. “If only we could go by sea.”
“You know that’s not an option. Not with pirates roaming the coasts.”
“Yes, the pirates. What a nuisance. They’ve cost me as much as—”
A fly buzzed passed my ear, then made lazy circles around my head, distracting me so I didn’t hear the end of his sentence. I tried to swat it away. The fly was persistent, and it took a few tries, but eventually it flew off. By the time I’d turned my attention back to the men in the other room, their conversation had moved on.
“I’m going back to the admiralty this morning. They’re insisting on searching for the dead. Don’t they know we can’t afford to pay out all those pensions?”
I shrank back, hiding behind the open door as my scalp prickled.
“Will you be taking the princess with you again?”
Beverly laughed. “Of course.”
“She did very well yesterday.”
“She was perfect.”
I flushed under their praise. It was vanity that kept me where I was, and that vanity was what saved my life.
“She is utterly perfect,” the prince said again. “I didn’t think you could do it, but you managed it.”
“I do enjoy my work.”
His work?
“Yes, but how you found such a beautiful, softhearted innocent is beyond me.”
“The city is full of pretty, young women.”
“But one with a titled family too? Who also has no family at all? No one to interfere as I mold her. How many of those can there possibly be?”
“I believe only one, sir.”
My heart fluttered with fear.
“Oh, don’t ‘sir’ me,” Beverly said. “You’re insufferable when you’re being smug.”
“She did very well with the widows yesterday. They responded to her almost immediately.”
“It’s the eyes. Those big, pleading eyes when she’s upset. Who could say no to those?” Both men laughed, and I went cold.
“She is a bit more . . . spirited than her brother let on,” the count said.
Beverly laughed again. “Yes! She does have a head on her, doesn’t she? But that makes it all the more effective, don’t you think? Next time, I’ll make sure we have our little disagreements more publicly instead of in the carriage. It’ll make it more convincing. The softhearted queen cannot bear the dastardly king’s indifference to the suffering of his people. Look how in love they are. See how he has a change of heart because his beautiful wife asks it of him. They’ll be in love with her by the end of the summer, and by extension, they’ll love me in time for the coronation this winter.” He clapped his hands, and I started at the sound. I bumped into the bookshelf, and it creaked. The count and Beverly didn’t appear to hear me, because the prince continued.
“Yes. Perfect. Everything I could have hoped for when I asked you to find me a wife. Her temper just makes the game more interesting. If you’d brought me some innocent maiden, one who could be brought to head with a few mean words, there would’ve been no fun in that at all.”
“It will make your endgame a little more difficult to pull off,” the count said cautiously, but the prince only laughed.
“Nonsense. It just means we play a longer match. Give her time to build up her legend with the people. Queen Georgina, patron saint of the oppressed common folk of Redmere. We’ll name a charity or two after her, have her present some flowers from time to time. The longer the people are with her, the less they’ll notice what we’re doing behind the scenes.” He laughed again. “Maybe I’ll even get an heir or two off of her. She’s pretty enough. That would be no hardship. She has the sweetest mouth, did I tell you?”
My skin crawled, and my stomach heaved.
“So far as that?” the count asked.
“It wasn’t part of the original plan, but you truly have brought me a treasure, Crawford. Why not take advantage?”
“And then?” Crawford said.
“And then.” Beverly’s voice was casual, but his next words spiraled my fear into panic. “When the moment is right, the saint will become a martyr.”
7
How the prince and Crawford didn’t hear me as I stumbled out of the library was a mystery, because I did it with all the grace and stealth of an intoxicated cow. If they’d found me, there would have been no hiding what I knew.
But their conversation continued as if they’d been discussing the weather.
“We’ll tell the admiralty there will be no more searches,” the prince said.
“We haven’t really got the sailors to crew a full complement of ships anyway.” I could picture the count staring out the window for all the interest his voice held.
Beverly sighed. “The whole situation with Parrington’s wife has been absurd. No man should love his wife that much. We really weren’t ready to send out that many men. Not this month. Did I tell you he was at the party last night? Practically threw his daughter at me even though Georgina was right there.”
My feet and legs threatened to give way, my vision wavered, and my chest ached as I wound unseeingly through the castle’s spiraling staircases and hallways. Even the servants had vanished, so no one was around to see my distress.
A martyr.
I would need to leave. Rosie would have to come with me too. If the prince had no compunction around killing me, then he’d absolutely not hesitate to find out what Rosie knew if I suddenly disappeared.
A sob threatened to burst free.
He was going to kill me.
I didn’t want to die. Not anytime soon. Not for him and his plans.
Rosie was still asleep where I’d left her. Her hair was mussed and fell over her face. She was the picture of dreamy obliviousness.
A tear rolled down my cheek, and I wiped it away roughly. Now was not the time to fall apart. I would outsmart him. He was ruthless, but he underestimated me. I had time. He didn’t mean to kill me today, and he didn’t know that I’d heard him.
Wordlessly, I slipped into bed next to Rosie, who frowned in her sleep, but then simply rolled over and settled again. I stared at the ceiling, desperately trying to get my racing mind to follow Rosie’s example. I couldn’t panic. A rash decision would be disastrous.
My chin trembled. A plan. Such an absurd thought. What sort of plan would that be? Would I rally the men of the prince’s army who were loyal to me? Lead the people in a carefully orchestrated rebellion?
I made the only choice I could.
Jeremy knew. The prince will kill me. If you really are more than a printer, I need your help.
The ink was barely dried as Rosie stirred. I had no idea if it was usual for a princess’s maid to share a bed with her mistress, but I was hardly a princess, and Rosie’s presence was the only thing keeping me from crumbling into total despair.
“What’s wrong?” Rosie asked.
I blinked. I must have looked awful. “I have a headache.” My voice was a croak, but it was too soon to upset Rosie. Until I knew what we were going to do, sharing what I’d learned this morning was risky. The more people who knew it, the greater the chance the prince or the count might find out.
Rosie clambered out of bed. “I’ll get you some tea.”
“I need . . .” My voice wavered. “Do you know the . . . the printer? Niall?”
She shook her head, and I couldn’t hear any dishonesty when she said, “No. Why?”
It figured that she wouldn’t. Safer if we each only knew one link in the chain. And Rosie’s link was—“I need you to take a note to the dressmaker.”
She froze in place, eyes wide. “Why?”
I couldn’t tell her. Sending her out with my note was enough. “Nothing. Just a thank you for all her dedication. The dresses are perfect.”
Rosie nodded slowly. “I’ll have someone—”
“No!” The word came out more sharply than I meant. “I would appreciate it if you took it yourself.” I had no idea how the dressmaker would get the note to Niall. That step had been my responsibility.
A knock sounded at the door.
I must have made a sound, because Rosie spun, eyes widening.
“George?”
It was him. He’d come for me after all. Toyed with me until my little mouse heart was ready to burst on its own.
I crumpled up the note and tossed it into the fire, waiting until it smoked and lit before I turned back to Rosie. “Answer it.” I would find a way to face him.
Rosie went to the door and opened it. Instead of Beverly bursting through and dragging me off to his dungeons or to the main square to be publicly denounced, a quiet conversation followed between Rosie and whoever was on the other side of the door. With no more fuss than that, the person left again, and Rosie shut us in.
“Who was that?”
“The prince is going to the harbor again. He asked for your company, but I told the messenger you were unwell.”
No. No, no, no. The room spun.
“I need to get dressed.”
“You do not.”
“I’m fine.” I couldn’t hide from Beverly. The longer I avoided him, the more sure he’d be that something was wrong.
“You aren’t!”
I rounded on her, glaring, and was sorry for a moment when she stepped back. She was the only person in the whole world I trusted at the moment.
“Please. I don’t want to stay cooped up here all day.” I forced a smile as I stumbled toward the dressing room. “I’ll be fine.”
We argued, but she helped me dress. “You really don’t look well,” she muttered as she did the buttons at my throat.
“It’s a headache. It won’t kill me.” Unlike the prince, if he ever knew that I’d heard him. He said he was playing a long game. I closed my eyes and ignored his comment about an heir. The memory of his mouth on mine the previous day made me shiver.
“You see?” Rosie spun me. “You’re sick. This is ridiculous.”
I shook my head, miserable again. “It’s nothing. I didn’t sleep well. There’s so much to get used to. Help me pin my veil into place.”
She stared, fingers drumming on her hips, then disappeared into the dressing room again. I paced while she was gone. I didn’t know when the prince would be leaving, but I didn’t want to be left alone here. Perversely, now that I knew he meant to kill me, I didn’t want him to be out of my sight.
Rosie dressed quickly and emerged with two heavy cloaks over one arm.
“What are you doing?” I asked, sick horror twisting in my stomach.
“I’m going with you.”
“What?”
She buttoned me into one of the cloaks and pinned my veil in place. “A princess shouldn’t travel unescorted. I allowed it yesterday because His Highness was so romantic in the festival garden. But it’s not done, even with princes. And you’re ill. You need someone to attend you.” She slung the second cloak over her shoulder with a flair that I would have appreciated if I weren’t trying to choke down a fresh round of tears at her dedication.
