TWO

MUCH TO JAMES’S relief, I slept most of the day.

Much to everyone else’s annoyance, I missed sword training, classes, morning and afternoon court, a meeting with Captain Chuter, a walk with Lady Meredith, and two meals.

Throughout the day, I awakened long enough to drink soup and treat my injuries. James had managed to sneak a sack of ice chips from the cellar, and we alternated resting those on my face and ribs. The cold was terrible, but it helped the pain, if not the stiffness, in my jaw; it was difficult to speak, let alone chew, but I ate what I was given. I was determined to recover in time to stop Lord Hensley’s deal with the Nightmare gang.

By the time evening rolled in, I had no choice but to get up. My mother was hosting a family dinner tonight because Aunt Kathleen was leaving Skyvale in the morning.

Tomorrow, James would lose his mother not just to her depression, but to distance as well. With his duties as my bodyguard, he wouldn’t be able to see her as frequently.

Hensley hadn’t taken just Lord Roth from James, but his mother, as well.

I dressed in a suit Aunt Kathleen had always complimented, and then set out with James to Rayner Manor.

The sun fell toward the west, lighting the mirrors gold as we drove along the wide avenues. Trees glowed brilliant green, wind chimes clinked, manicured gardens offered their delicate perfumes, and above everything, the clock tower ticked and the Cathedral of the Solemn Hour pierced the sky and the wall separated Hawksbill from the rest of the city.

“This whole place,” I muttered to James as we pulled into the long drive. “Hawksbill. King’s Seat. The stillness here is amazing. The peacefulness. And just over that wall . . .”

“I know.”

It was hard to reconcile my life here with everything that had happened just last night. The other side of the wall wasn’t that far away, but what a difference those stones made.

“Here we are.” James said it like I hadn’t been to Rayner Manor a thousand times.

If the house had seemed empty the last time I’d been here, on my birthday, it was positively bare now. Everything important to Aunt Kathleen had already been shipped to Hawes and the rest was either covered with sheets and closed away in rooms no longer open to visitors, or unusually orderly and dusted, ready to be packed away tomorrow morning, once the lady of the house was gone.

“Why hold dinner here if the house is practically closed?” I kept my voice low so it wouldn’t echo in the grand entry hall.

James shook his head. “Mother wanted to honor Lord Roth one last time.”

She’d wanted. That was something. Aunt Kathleen had been so numb and removed from the world since Lord Roth’s murder. Perhaps going to Hawes was truly for the best; I couldn’t imagine staying in this house if I were her. Not without her late husband. Not without her son, gone to school and the palace for work, never home anyway.

All she had was memories here.

A sad, abandoned expression crossed James’s face, but he smoothed it away when he saw me looking. “It’s fine,” he said. “I’m not going to cry or anything.”

“I didn’t say you were.” I nudged him, not mentioning that I’d be tempted to cry if I were in his position. “Let’s go.”

Our boots thumped on the heavy rug as we turned in to the family dining room, still heavily decorated with silk brocade curtains over the windows, polished friezes gleaming in the gas lamplight, and portraits of generations of Rayners, including Mother and Aunt Kathleen when they were girls. They were smiling in that one, holding hands and giving each other knowing looks about . . . something. A secret.

Now, they sat next to each other at the table, both tall and somber, one proud with the bearing of surviving such a betrayal, and the other slowly withering with loss. They had new secrets since that portrait, but neither lady was smiling.

As always, Mother sat between Father and her sister. Aunt Kathleen sat at the head of the table—it was her home, after all—while James and I sat across from my parents. There were a handful of other places set, too, but before I could wonder who else was joining us, the door to a parlor opened and several figures strode through.

Lord and Lady Chuter, with Chey along like an afterthought.

Lord and Lady Corcoran, with Meredith. Not like an afterthought.

And Lord and Lady Hensley.

I repressed a deep shudder as Hensley caught my eye and offered what might have been a friendly smile if he hadn’t ordered my death just last night.

“Good evening,” Aunt Kathleen said as all her guests found their places. Greetings rippled around the dining room.

The girls were seated next to me—Meredith, then Chey.

Father shot a quick, instructive glance my way. Easily deciphered. I turned to Meredith and Chey. “Good evening, my ladies.”

They both offered demure smiles, ready with answers when I asked them about their day, but Hensley’s presence kept tugging at my attention.

“Chey has been introducing me to her friends around the palace,” Meredith was saying. “As it turns out, we’re all quite committed to needlework of some sort. I’m hopeful that we can meet regularly to visit and work on our projects. At home, I sewed blankets and clothes to send to the shelters in the poor areas. I’d like to do the same here. I also made several pieces of clothing for chapels to give to the soldiers we send to the front lines of the wraithland.”

“That’s such a generous use of your time, my lady.” I smiled as warmly as my bruised face would allow.

“I always felt it was a good, responsible use. I have so much. It’s my duty to share.” Lady Meredith moved on to a description of her latest embroidery project.

“Prince Tobiah.” Lord Hensley interrupted Meredith. A small frown passed over her features, but she smoothed it quickly and deferred to him. “I was wondering how you came across that bruise. It looks quite painful.”

Lady Meredith made a soft noise of interest, though she was too polite to ask about my injury directly. She seemed almost relieved that Lord Hensley was not above humiliating me to satisfy curiosity. And on the other side of Meredith, Chey perked up. Their parents, too, paused their conversations.

“It’s merely a relic of sword practice with James.” I kept my tone as smooth as possible. “He’s my new bodyguard, you know. Quite accomplished. I’d be embarrassed if I wasn’t so proud of having my cousin in such a prestigious position so quickly.”

“I’m certain nepotism played no part in his placement.”

Everyone looked at Lord Hensley. Even Aunt Kathleen managed to rouse herself out of her constant despair long enough to frown.

“I assure you,” I said, before anyone else had a chance to find their voices, “nepotism played no part. James is simply the best man for the job. I wouldn’t entrust anyone else with my life. Nor would my father, who approved the placement.”

Father kept his tone even, but his displeasure with Hensley was evident. “You were not in Skyvale in the days before the One-Night War, when Aecor’s General Lien kidnapped Tobiah. Even as a young child, James tried to protect Tobiah. I would not entrust my son’s life to just anyone.”

I couldn’t help it. I glanced at Mother, because the truth was that Father was entrusting his legitimate son’s life to his illegitimate son.

Mother scowled and said nothing. Aunt Kathleen’s eyes cut to James.

“I suppose,” mused Hensley, “our prince does have a rather exciting history. So many brushes with death. The saints must want to keep him alive.”

“We all want the prince kept alive.” James’s voice was low and dangerous, but when the footmen came to serve everyone, his tone turned light again. “Thank you.”

That was something I’d always liked about James; he never forgot to show appreciation toward the staff. Most of the others around the table ignored the servers, though Lady Meredith did cast a faint smile toward the man who poured her wine.

The first course was a spicy soup, heavy with lentils and vegetables. It was good, but it left a sharp fire on my tongue—and possibly my breath. And I was sitting next to—who my parents hoped would be—my future bride. Who had prepared the menu?

Idle conversation about the food and wine fluttered about the room, but the tension was heavy with questions. I could almost hear the gossip about my accusation of Hensley a few weeks ago, and the stump of his hand now. James had said earlier that people wondered if he’d fall out of favor now, with so much trouble surrounding him.

“My apologies if I offended,” Lord Hensley said after everyone had tasted their soup. His left hand trembled, making the spoon rattle against the edge of the bowl; he wasn’t used to switching hands yet. “I simply meant that it’s such an important job, keeping the future king alive. I’m glad to hear the duty has fallen to someone worthy of the task. This can be such a dangerous city.”

“I’ll say it can.” Lord Chuter leaned forward, glad to have something to add to the conversation at last. “Just last night there was a massacre in Greenstone. It’s such a shame that people need to ruin an otherwise nice city.”

Chills swept through me as I caught Hensley’s eye. “Oh yes.” I turned to Lord Chuter. “I heard about that. It’s a tragedy.”

“Tragedy might be too strong a word, if you don’t mind me saying.” Lord Chuter took a deep drink from his wine; a footman rushed forward to refill it, perhaps unwisely. “I don’t wish to be insensitive, but they were part of the Nightmare gang. Mostly. And glowmen. They slaughtered each other, it seems.”

Lady Corcoran lifted her chin. “Mostly?”

“There was a young girl.” Lord Chuter glanced at Chey, his expression softening. “It seems she was caught in the violence, and killed. That, Your Highness, I would suggest is a tragedy.”

“I agree.” The words rasped from my throat. The sting of my soup did nothing to quell the ache.

“A young girl.” Hensley sent me the quickest of sneers. “That is quite tragic. That poor girl.”

My chest ached with the memory of Romily’s small body cracking against the warehouse wall, and the still, pale way she lay in death. Under the table, my hands clenched. Killing those glowmen had only been a distraction from the real problem.

“I heard, too,” Lord Hensley said, “that the vigilante was involved.”

“Vigilante?” Mother scowled. “What vigilante?”

Hensley glanced at my parents. “He’s a new menace. Don’t worry yourself for not having heard of him yet. Likely the police will catch him quickly.”

“But you think he was at the warehouse massacre? Doing what?” asked Mother.

Lord Hensley shrugged and twisted his mouth as though to imply this wasn’t a topic for polite discussion. “Could be he was helping them, or working against them. It’s hard to say. I’ve led forces to deal with a few would-be vigilantes in my time. I’ll take care of this one, too, if you would like.”

The same way Hensley was “taking care” of firefly? Right.

“That would be appreciated.” Father coughed into his handkerchief, missing the amused look Hensley shot my way. “The vigilante is someone the city could do without.”

“I agree.” I swept my gaze across the table. “No one is above the law, though some clearly believe otherwise. Don’t you think so, my lady?” I turned to Lady Meredith.

She placed her soup spoon on the table and folded her hands. “Yes, Your Highness. Is this vigilante trained? Does he know how to handle tense situations, like police and soldiers do? Can we know that he’ll put civilians first? Or is collateral damage acceptable? We don’t know his motives, and that makes him dangerous, not just to the ruling and noble families of the city, but to the general populace as well. It is our duty to protect them.”

“I could not agree more, my lady.” I made myself smile warmly. She’d brought up some good points.

“What was the fight about, I wonder?” James cocked his head. “Nightmares aren’t known for working in that part of the city. Something else must have drawn them to Greenstone.”

“Shine, I’m sure. Or that new variant.” Lord Chuter shook his head. “It’s such a plague on this city.”

I leaned toward him. “Last time we dined together, you told me about the hounds you’re training to seek out shine. The more I hear about violence related to shine and firefly, the more I think about your dogs and how they might help rid this city of that filth.”

Lord Chuter looked pleased I’d remembered. “Yes, I’ve written to my man in Two Rivers City and urged him to push harder toward the first trials. I’m hopeful that we’ll have positive results by the end of this year.”

That was too far off. After tonight, firefly would be all over the streets. If it truly did everything Hensley promised, he’d be unstoppable.

“Please keep me apprised, my lord. I’m eager to put a stop to the spread of shine, especially after the death of my tutor. Not to mention the infestation of flashers in the city. If it wasn’t for them continuing to use their magic and drawing the wraith nearer—” I bit off my words before I could reveal the deep rage that seethed inside me.

Lady Meredith offered a thoughtful look, and under the table she touched the back of my hand. I almost jumped, the action was so forward of her, but instead, I forced out the anger in a long breath.

“My apologies.” I made my tone more even. “I shouldn’t have gone off like that.”

“It’s clear that you care very deeply for the Indigo Kingdom.” Lady Corcoran’s voice was smooth and sweet, like Meredith’s. She gave me a gentle smile. “It’s a fine quality in a future king. Much better than one who simply does not care what befalls his subjects.”

“Agreed,” said Father. “Tobiah will make a fine king one day.”

Around the table, others nodded and concurred. Even Lord Hensley.

“As much as I appreciate your kindness on that matter, we should return to the reason we’re visiting Rayner Manor tonight.” I glanced at Aunt Kathleen, who’d been sitting silently the whole time. Her expression was soft and distant, too lost in her grief to fully participate. Hopefully returning to her family home would help her recovery. “Aunt Kathleen, I know I, for one, will miss you when you’re back in Hawes. . . .”