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Mother and Regulus played checkers while Adelaide laid on her stomach, hanging off the end of her bed. She tossed her dagger and caught it. Father had gone to write messages to all the dukes, several barons, and to a few lords. All she could do was wait. She hated it.
Mother had beaten Regulus for the third time, much to his clear disappointment, when the door burst open and Father flew in. “They’re dead. Almost all of them.”
“What?” Adelaide caught her dagger and sat up. Father’s face was drawn and pale. He clutched an arrow in his hand.
“A servant went to the aviary to feed the birds.” Father shook the arrow. “This was on the floor, with a small pouch and a note tied to it.” He thrust out his other hand and opened it, revealing a shredded off-white wool pouch and a rolled-up piece of parchment. “The pouch was full of seed. The birds got into it.” He clenched his fist around the pouch and note. “Poisoned. Most of them are dead, and a few are close. We’re not sure if the others didn’t eat any or if they haven’t reacted yet.”
Mother cursed in Khast, her eyes wide with horror. Adelaide gripped her dagger tighter. It seemed impossible. The aviary was located at the top of the south-eastern tower. Even though it had the largest window in the entire outer defense, someone would have to be a phenomenal shot to make that.
“We found a few identical arrows wedged in the moss on the sides of the window, and another inside,” Father said, as if reading her thoughts. “They didn’t have the pouch or note. He must have tried several times to ensure he would make the window.”
“Who poisons an entire aviary?” Mother asked.
“The kind of person who orders a horse hobbled to send a message to its owner,” Regulus muttered.
“I have to send messengers,” Father said. He leaned back against the door. “And pray he doesn’t kill them all.”
“You can’t send them to their deaths.” Adelaide tossed her dagger onto the bed. “We have to figure out a way to send them safely!”
“Our king is in danger. Our home is under attack.” Father’s expression hardened. “This is war. Sacrifices must be made.”
“But—”
“He’s not wrong, Adelaide,” Regulus said, his voice quiet.
She turned toward him, hurt and surprised. “They’ll die.”
“Many more people will die, including the king, if he’s not warned,” Father said. “It is my duty to try.”
Adelaide shook her head. She hated Nolan. If only she had her magic. With her magic, she could keep Nolan from getting close enough to reach her. Keep him far enough away that his enhanced strength and speed and his immortality wouldn’t matter. “Fine. But we need a back-up plan.”
Father raised his brows. “I’m listening.”
“Send the messengers.” Adelaide looked at Regulus, then back at Father. “But let Regulus and I leave right after them for the neumenet tree.” Mother and Father started speaking at once, so she shouted over them, “Listen!” They quieted, but neither looked pleased. “Nolan will be focused on the messengers. Send them out, and we can sneak out without him noticing us. If the neumenet tree can restore my magic, I’ll be better able to defend myself. And if none of the messengers get through, then I’ll go. If I have my magic back, I can get past him, I’m sure.”
“That’s a lot of if’s,” Father said with a shake of his head. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I’m not waiting here for him to take me!” She immediately wished she hadn’t said it. But she couldn’t keep her fear inside any longer, gnawing away at her heart.
No one said anything for a long moment. She stared at her blurred reflection in the dagger lying on her bed.
Father sighed. “I won’t let that happen.”
“Alfred.” Regulus stood. “Adelaide’s reasoning is sound.”
“I don’t care. She’s not leaving this room if it means I have to chain her to her bed.”
“Father!” She looked to Mother, but Mother lifted a shoulder, clearly siding with Father. “You wouldn’t.”
“The messengers will be sent tonight, in two groups, and will all take different routes.” Father clutched the arrow and it snapped in half. “You two will be locked in your own rooms.”
“Fath—”
“End of discussion.” Father turned and opened the door.
“Wait!” Adelaide reached toward him, as if to stop him. He paused partway through the door. “What did the note say?”
“Nothing.” Father walked out the door and she raced after him and grabbed his arm.
“Tell me.”
“It’s not your concern—”
She grabbed his hand and tried to pry his fist open.
“Don’t make this harder, Adelaide.” Father moved her aside, but she held onto his fist.
“I deserve to know.” Her heart pushed against her throat. He’s only targeting you because of me.
Father sighed and lowered his head. “It doesn’t change anything if you know.”
“I’d rather know than wonder.” She tried to catch his eyes, but he wouldn’t look at her.
Slowly, Father unclenched his fist. Adelaide took the crumpled, smashed scrap of parchment from his palm. It crinkled as she opened it. She walked closer to a small window in the hallway and held it up to the light. Nolan’s handwriting looked just the same as in the love letters he had sent her what seemed a lifetime ago. Regulus walked up behind her as she read.
I’ll tell you what I told Adelaide: You don’t want to go to war with me. You can’t stop the inevitable, Belanger. Stay out of my way. Final warning. Let’s not make Adelaide fatherless if we don’t have to, shall we?
Regulus reached around her and pulled the note out of her hands. He read it, then ripped it in half and dropped it to the ground.
Father wrapped his arms around Adelaide and cradled the side of her head in his hand. “It’s going to be all right.” He kissed the top of her head, just like he did when she was little. She leaned into his chest, taking comfort in his warmth while he stroked her hair. “I’ve faced many enemies. I’m still here. Don’t worry.” He patted her shoulder and walked away.
But none were a man who couldn’t be killed. Adelaide watched him walk down the hall, back tall, but with a heaviness to his steps that betrayed the weight he carried. She had always thought Father the strongest person she knew. Believed him to be unbreakable. A war hero with laughter and love in his heart. He had never looked so ragged. So unsure. For the first time, she looked at him and didn’t feel like everything would be all right.
And it was her fault.
––––––––
THE ROOM WAS MADE OF layered shadows when Adelaide’s eyes snapped open. She listened, trying to determine what had awoken her. She must not have been asleep long; in fact, she was unsure she’d even fallen asleep. Something metallic rasped at the door. Still lying down, she gripped the hilt of her dagger under her pillow and freed it from its sheath, watching the door through half-closed eyes. The door cracked open. Faint candlelight spilled into the room. With a creak, the door opened further. The candle on the floor illuminated a kneeling figure. She blinked against the bright light as the man picked up the candle and stood, her pulse quickening. Under the pillow, she gripped the dagger tighter and prepared to scream.
The man raised the candle, and the light glittered in his eyes and made his scar shine. Her muscles unclenched and she sat up.
“Regulus? What—”
“Shh.” He walked in and closed the door behind him. A bulging bag hung from his uninjured shoulder. He’d found a sword somewhere, as one now hung at his left hip. “We’re going to the neumenet tree.”
“What?” She squinted at the candlelight.
“Unless you don’t want to.”
“No, I do—”
“Then get dressed. The second group of messengers are about to leave. If we’re going to do this, we need to hurry. Plus, it’s only a matter of time before someone finds your guards.”
Adelaide tossed off the covers and hurried to her dresser. It almost surprised her how quickly she agreed. But it was her plan, after all. Even if the clandestine, against-Father’s-orders-thing was unexpected. “What did you do? How did you get here?”
“I picked the locks. And I knocked your guards out. They’ll be fine, although they might have a headache when they wake up.” Regulus winced. “And I don’t envy them the experience of facing your parents.”
Adelaide pulled an outfit she sometimes used for combat training out of her dresser and slipped behind her dressing screen. “You know how to pick a lock?”
“It’s a useful thing for a mercenary to know.”
Oh. She slipped out of her nightgown and struggled into the suede fitted trousers. Next, she slipped on a thin, sleeveless white undershirt and wriggled into a fitted sleeveless leather tunic she had based on a drawing in one of Mother’s Khastallander books. With a hemline at mid-thigh in the front and just below her knees in the back, and slits up to her hips on the sides, it could hardly be called a dress. She tightened and tied off the laces over the bust. The back came up to her neck, but the front curved well below her collarbone.
From the dresser she grabbed tall riding boots, a black cloak, a belt, and a baldric with slots for throwing knives she had thought she would never use. Regulus’ mouth fell open as she moved past him and sat on her bed to put on the boots.
“That’s...you...” He cleared his throat, and she smiled to herself as she laced up her boots. “You look fierce, Tha Shiraa.”
Adelaide pulled her box full of weapons out from under her bed. She picked out five throwing knives and put them into the baldric before throwing it over her shoulder and across her chest. After feeding the belt through the sheathes of a couple daggers, she cinched it around her waist. She grinned as she stood and threw on her cloak.
“You’re a bad influence, Regulus Hargreaves. This will be twice I’ve run off with you.”
“It’s your fault, really.” The candlelight danced in his pupils. “You make me reckless.” He grabbed her hand. “Ready?”
She stepped forward. “I’ll lead. I know every hall in this castle. We’ll be at the stables in no time.”
“That’s my tigress.”
They snuck past the guards slumped against the wall next to her door and down the hall. Every moment they spent in the castle set her on edge, every little sound startling her, certain they had been caught. But they made it to the stables and found Zephyr and Sieger without a problem. They saddled them in a hurry, then stole through the shadows to the small servant’s gate in the rear of the castle. Just large enough for a horse and rider, and easily blocked off, it presented little threat in case of attack. But it did provide an excellent way to slip out. The two guards standing in front of the gate straightened as they approached.
“Who goes—Lady Adelaide?” The guard on the right bowed. “I’m sorry, my lady, but you have to turn back.”
“I command you to step aside.” She put as much confidence and authority into her words as she could muster.
“Can’t do that, my lady,” the second guard said. “We’re under orders from your father not to let anyone in or out without his express permission.”
“Do you think I would be here without his permission?”
The guards exchanged a glance. “He’d be here if he wanted to give his permission,” the first guard said.
Regulus stepped forward. “Look, gentlemen, you’re doing a wonderful job. What are your names, so I can commend you to Lord Belanger myself?”
“Um, that’s close enough—”
Regulus jumped forward and grabbed both men by the collar of their leather armor. He pushed them back into the stone wall, grabbed their helms, and knocked their heads together with a clang that was sure to draw all kinds of attention. One of the guards staggered in a daze to the side, then sagged against the wall. The other slumped to the ground. Regulus retrieved the key from the belt of the fallen man. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, then turned back, breathing hard.
“Better hurry before anyone else shows up.” Regulus winced as he mounted Sieger. Adelaide bit her lip when he pressed a hand against his ribs and grunted.
She mounted Zephyr as a man shouted from further along the wall. Regulus kicked Sieger forward, and she urged Zephyr after him. They raced away from the castle, the wind from their speed pulling at her braid and cloak, the air cool and crisp on her face. She glanced back at the castle, at the cluster of torch-illuminated men near the door.
Be safe, Father and Mother.
