Her head rang. Her heart pounded. Everything inside her screamed as she remembered the way her brother stepped in front of the Throne of Light with the dead body lying below him. There had been a smile on Andreus’s lips as Elder Cestrum spoke, but Carys couldn’t make sense of the words. Nothing made sense. The world was spinning. The lights above swayed and Carys felt a swirl of air pull at her skirts while she stared at the blood spread across the shining white stone floor.
A boy. No more than twelve or thirteen.
Just a boy.
“Princess, wait,” a voice called to her as she hurried down the corridor—away from the Hall of Virtues, and her brother, and the senseless death he had brought to an innocent boy.
She didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not after what had just happened. She couldn’t stay and smile and act as though nothing was wrong while her brother accepted congratulations for his victory and Captain Monteros supervised his guard picking up the headless body and carrying it away.
The blood on the white stone floor would be cleaned. In mere minutes, maybe even right now, people would be dancing atop the spot where the boy had begged for his life and lost it. And her brother would smile and dance with them.
She couldn’t think about Andreus and what he had commanded in the Hall of Virtues. Her brother wasn’t heartless. It was the reason she thought he would make a great ruler. He believed in compassion. She had been certain he would do what was best for the kingdom.
Instead he struck a blow to the foundation of her world. She couldn’t stay in the Hall and she couldn’t go back to her rooms. Not yet. Not with the image of her brother’s satisfied smile playing over and over in her head. If she returned to her rooms now the need to drown those images with Tears of Midnight would be too strong for her to deny. It was everything she could do to keep herself from heading for the stairs and giving in to that desire.
Soon.
First, before the Tears blissfully chased the world away, she had to get to the stables. If Larkin had been hiding there for hours, there had to be a very good reason why. And if it was about Imogen, Carys needed to know exactly what that reason was.
She turned down a torchlit hallway, hoping to discourage the person following her. The footsteps behind her stopped. Then they started again . . . faster and getting closer.
Putting her hands in her pockets, Carys grabbed the handles of the stilettos, drew the blades, and turned.
Lord Errik stopped in his tracks and put his hands up in the air. “I apologize for startling you, Princess.”
“Don’t you know it’s a bad idea to pursue a lady who doesn’t wish to be followed?” she asked.
“In my experience, most ladies who are being pursued want to be caught. Clearly, Princess, you aren’t most ladies.” When she didn’t lower her weapons, his expression turned serious. “After what just happened with your brother and the attempt on his life earlier, I was worried about you being alone in these halls. Eden doesn’t appear to be a very safe place right now.”
No. No, it wasn’t. “I appreciate your concern, Lord Errik, but I assure you, I can take care of myself.”
“As we all learned with your excellent demonstration today,” he agreed, stepping forward. “But your eyes can only see what is in front of you. Even the most skilled warrior has need of someone to guard his back.”
“I thank you for your concern, Lord Errik, but my back is just fine.” At least it always had been because her brother had guarded it as she had guarded his. Now . . . now, unless she could change the path he was on, she would be on her own.
“Please, if you’ll allow me.” He lowered his hands and stepped forward.
“Why?” she demanded. Lowering the stilettos to her side, Carys said, “A good Trade Master would be careful not to take sides until a new ruler is on Eden’s throne. And if you truly believe I’m trying to lose, you should be in the Hall of Virtues still, with my brother.”
“A good Trade Master understands that it is impossible to partner with kingdoms that are at war with other countries or themselves. And even if that wasn’t true, I believe in fair play. It is clear there are a great many people in this castle who don’t. The fact that you’re losing isn’t going to alter that. It might even make it worse.”
“Andreus was only doing what he thought he must tonight,” she insisted, working to convince Errik of what she had been trying so hard to make herself believe.
“The Prince did what he thought would get him what he wanted. He made his choice and you made yours.” Errik looked down at the stilettos in her hands and then back at her. His tanned skin looked richer and his features sharper in the flickering torchlight. He stepped forward until he was less than an arm’s length from her. “I’m an outsider, which means you have no reason to trust me to take your part. But as strong and determined as you are, I don’t believe you can do this on your own. I am offering to stand at your side.”
She stared into the intense darkness of his eyes and felt the pull of his offer. Offering her trust was offering Errik power over her. Power was dangerous. Look at what it had already done to her brother. But Errik was right in saying that she needed someone to watch her back.
Still, she asked, “And if I refuse your offer, my lord? What then?”
Errik smiled. “Then I hope I’m better at dodging those stilettos than the man earlier today, because I have made the decision to keep you safe—at least until I have the opportunity to teach you how to dance.”
The words, the look on his face, the nearness of his body made her heart pound harder and her stomach jump. And she didn’t have time for either.
“I have to go,” she said, stepping away so she could slide the stilettos into her pockets.
“Will you allow me to escort you back to your rooms,” Errik asked, “or shall I just hang in the shadows and allow you to pretend I’m not here?”
Yesterday, she would have said no. She would have commanded him away. Yesterday, her brother was on her side. Now Andreus was a different person and she needed to trust someone—before these trials and the people involved in them took him away from her forever.
“I’m not going to my rooms,” she admitted. “There is something I have to do in the stables first.”
Errik ran his eyes up and down her body and raised an eyebrow. “In those clothes? I’m going to have to teach you more than dancing, Highness. Have you ever heard of the word stealth?”
A half hour later, Carys had exchanged her shimmering blue gown and jewels for a dark gray servant’s dress that was a size too big and a matching gray cap under which Errik insisted she shove her distinctively colorless hair. Since there weren’t any pockets in this dress, Errik found a basket of dirty laundry for Carys to shove her stilettos into in order to carry them with her.
“Aren’t you going to change into servant’s attire, too?” she asked.
“Of course not.” He smiled. “My job is to be noticed. If there’s a demanding noble around no one has time to notice the servant scurrying through the halls before him.”
“I never scurry,” she said, heading into the hall with the basket balanced on her hip. The late hour meant there were fewer people in the castle corridors. She kept her head tilted down as she hurried to exit the castle. She needed to get to the stables before Larkin decided she wasn’t coming.
The chill of the night made Carys wish for a cloak as she crossed the castle’s courtyard, passed through the exit, and went down the narrow steps that led to the royal stables. They had been constructed on a wide ledge on the side of the plateau between the castle and Garden City with a slope that allowed the horses to easily get to the ground below. Lights on the castle walls glowed bright in the night. Carys could hear Errik’s voice echoing behind her as he boisterously spoke to everyone he passed.
By the time she reached the stables, the hands on duty knew there was a noble on his way and gave Carys barely more than a quick leer before she passed into the grand structure that smelled of hay and manure. Horses nickered. Hay crunched under her feet. The dim glow from wind-powered sconces lit her way as she headed toward the ladder that led to the hayloft where Carys, Andreus, and Larkin spent hours playing over a decade ago.
A stiletto clutched in one hand, Carys reached the loft. No wind-powered lights graced its walls, and Carys squinted into the shadows as she moved carefully deeper into the hayloft.
“Larkin?” she whispered, clutching the stiletto tight. Hay crackled in the corner and Carys turned in that direction. Nothing there. She whispered Larkin’s name again and jumped as something else rustled in the loft.
“Larkin?” Two stacks of hay moved and Larkin appeared. “Thank the Gods,” Carys whispered, hurrying forward toward her friend, who was wide-eyed and pale. “Are you okay?”
“I worried that your maid wouldn’t give you the message or that you wouldn’t understand where to come or that I wasn’t hidden well enough and someone might have seen me.” Fear colored Larkin’s voice and her eyes were bright with tears.
“What is it? You can tell me—whatever it is.”
Larkin nodded and swallowed hard. “I know you wanted me to leave town and my father and I planned to, but I wanted to bring you the dress I’d been working on for you. The tournament was over and everyone was returning by the time I reached the castle with the garments. There were rumors about an attack at the tournament and I wasn’t sure if someone would question me coming to the castle, so I went through the maze paths in the courtyard that lead to the kitchen gardens.” She paused to breathe. “It was there I heard Lady Imogen’s voice coming from around the corner. I started to go back the way I came. But that’s when I heard her tell someone not to worry. That Prince Andreus already was hers in ways Micah never was and once you were killed he would rely on her even more. She said that once the appointed time came for the true King to take the throne, Prince Andreus would be far easier to kill than Prince Micah and King Ulron had been.”
For a moment Carys couldn’t breathe. The words slammed through the haze that surrounded her and the truth dawned. “They killed Micah and my father.”
“I believe so, Highness. I should have left and found the guards and brought them there to hear them speak, but I didn’t know who to trust. And I was too scared to move.”
Carys was certain had Larkin left she would never have brought the guard back in time. Even if she had, after the part Captain Monteros and his men had played in tonight’s trial, there was a chance he was part of Imogen’s plot. If that were the case, Larkin wouldn’t be standing here to tell her tale now.
“You did the right thing. Did the person Lady Imogen was speaking with give any clue as to his identity?”
Larkin nodded. “His voice was low and quiet and I think I heard him say something about a visit to the North Tower, but I can’t be sure.” Larkin took a deep breath and looked Carys square in the eye. “But I am sure she referred to him once as Elder and that he is on the Council.”
The Council that was running the Trials—the Trials that would end if one of the twin heirs to the throne won or ended up dead.
“She said her visions told her they would triumph. That the orb would crack and the winds would sweep in a new ruler to sit on the Throne of Light. Just as they planned.”
A new ruler. Did that mean Andreus, or someone completely new?
It had to be Garret. Or was it? He had wanted something when he talked to her today, but it felt as though he wanted something from her personally, not just the crown.
Carys’s head spun. Her legs tingled, spots appeared in front of her eyes, and she grabbed the stack of hay bales for support.
“Are you okay, Highness?” Larkin rushed forward to take her arm.
“I’m fine,” she said as the lightheadedness faded. “It’s you I’m worried about. You have to—”
They both jumped at the sound of footsteps in the stables. Carys’s heart hammered against her chest as the footsteps stopped near the ladder. Then whoever was below began to climb.
“Behind me,” Carys hissed, ignoring the weak trembling of her legs as she lifted her stiletto and prepared to throw.
“Should I be concerned that you’re making a habit out of aiming that at me, Highness?” Lord Errik asked as his head and shoulders appeared. Carys lowered the stiletto with relief. Before she could ask why he had abandoned his job as a distraction, he said, “We’ll have to talk about your penchant for sharp objects later because unless I’m mistaken, this lady is the clever seamstress the guard believes was part of today’s plot to assassinate the Prince.”
“What?” Larkin gasped as Carys said, “That’s ridiculous.”
“I would tend to agree, but the guard won’t find my point of view all that compelling. From what I could learn in my quest to play irritating nobleman, they have sealed the gates under orders from the Council of Elders and are searching every house in the city in order to find her.” Errik turned toward Larkin. “I fear, my lady, you have made an enemy who wishes to see you dead.”
Imogen. She must have seen Larkin in the courtyard or perhaps she simply learned of Carys’s secret friendship and was using Larkin against her. “You have to get out of the city.”
“How?” Larkin asked, panic clear on her face. “With the gates sealed, there’s no way out.”
And eventually the guards would search the stables. If they found her, Larkin’s time in the North Tower would last only long enough for the Council and Imogen to organize her execution. Larkin couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t leave the city. Carys only knew of one place Larkin could hide where the guard would not know to look.
She studied Errik and wished she knew more about him. He was handsome. Clever. Determined. And he pulled at her in ways she hadn’t expected or wanted to think about. But could he be trusted?
Her stomach clenched. Her legs felt weak again, and she put a hand on the hay to steady herself as she weighed her options and realized she had none. If she wanted to keep Larkin alive, she would have to trust Errik with another secret.
“You have to hide until they have called off the search, and I know a place where they won’t find you.”
Quickly, she told Larkin about the hidden room behind the tapestry and the passages in the plateau under the castle. “Errik will have to escort you there. If Lady Imogen and anyone on the Council are behind this, they will have people looking for me in the hope that I’m helping you.” Putting her in the North Tower as a coconspirator for the assassination against Andreus would certainly guarantee her brother gained the throne.
“There’s no way the guards are going to let me into the castle looking like this,” Larkin said.
Damn. Larkin was right. Her pulse pumped. “There has to be a way to get you in.”
“There is,” Errik said. “Where’s your ball gown, Highness?”
“In the basket below, but it won’t fit Larkin.”
“It doesn’t have to fit,” Errik said with a smile. “Go back to the castle, Highness. I pledge my word, I will see your friend safely hidden away.”
She had no choice. Carys took her terrified friend’s hand and said, “Do as Lord Errik bids. He’ll keep you safe until I can find a way out of this for you.”
“And my father, Your Highness?” Larkin asked. “What about him?”
Goodman Marcus. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Now that she had, a cold dread settled into the pit of her stomach. “He doesn’t have the same connection to me that you do, and he didn’t hear what you heard. He should be safe . . . for now.” They would throw him in the North Tower when they couldn’t find Larkin, but they wouldn’t kill him. Not if they could use him to draw his daughter out of hiding. But the image of the kindly, thin man with his warm voice and gentle hands in those cells pulled at her. She was a princess, a member of the royal family of Eden, and yet she couldn’t be more helpless to prevent his suffering.
Swallowing down the knot of tears, she said, “Worry about getting yourself to the hidden room first, and I’ll be thinking of ways to get you out of this. I promise.” Even though she couldn’t. Not now. Maybe not ever. And if she didn’t come up with a way to defeat the treachery in the castle, everyone she cared about would end up dead.
Carys turned quickly toward the ladder so Larkin wouldn’t see the frustration and tears flooding her. Errik followed close behind. When they reached the bottom, he handed her the other stiletto from the basket and took her arm before she could leave.
“I will help your friend into hiding, Highness,” he said. “But you must know she will never be safe. The Council and your seeress have branded her a traitor. They will continue the hunt for her for years if necessary in order to demonstrate what happens to those who defy the crown.”
“Then what?” she hissed as anger heated the hollowness inside her. “You think I should just let the guards have her and be done with it?”
“No, Highness.” He reached up to her face and brushed away a tear that she hadn’t realized had fallen. “But you might want to consider other options. When a battle is being lost on one terrain, sometimes an army must draw back and find new ground to fight on.” He stared into her eyes for several long moments, then said, “I will get word to you when the package is safely delivered.” He took the dress out of the basket, put her stilettos back in, and shoved a bunch of hay on top before handing it to her. “Now, Princess, you should go.”
She hurried back to the castle the way she’d come, shivering as the wind gusted. The windmills seemed louder with every step. A guard stopped her at the gate and pulled her cap off her head to check the color of her hair.
Carys held her breath and tightened her grip on the basket as the man walked slowly around her. Sweat trickled down her neck and she tried to guess how long it would take for her to reach inside the basket and pull out the stilettos if it came to that. Finally, he gave her backside a squeeze and told her to come to the guardhouse after her kitchen duties.
“Me and my friends will pay you well for your time.”
Carys bit back the angry words that sprang to her lips and instead smiled. “I’m worth more than the few coppers you have in your pockets.”
“Name your price and if you prove you’re worth it, we’ll pay it.”
“A lord once said I was worth a sack of gold.” She smiled. “But I’ll take a sack of silver since you asked so nice.”
Swaying her hips, she hurried away from the guard. Then, ditching the basket behind a hedge in the courtyard, Carys jammed the cap back on her head, clutched the stilettos at her side, and kept her face tilted down as she passed servants and nobles stumbling back to their rooms after the ball.
Nowhere did she see Imogen or any of the Elders. Nor her brother. She would look for him after she changed and steadied herself. She needed just a bit of the Tears to stop her thoughts from tripping over one another.
When she reached her floor, she plucked the cap off her head, shook out her hair, and then walked around the corner as though her attire were typical. A young guard was stationed outside her door—the same one who had walked her from the North Tower. He glanced at her gray gown but said nothing as she let herself into her rooms and sagged against the door after it closed behind her.
Larkin’s scared warning.
The boy’s head falling with a sickening thud onto the polished floor.
Andreus’s expression of pride when he was declared the winner.
Errik’s warning and his smile.
The images swarmed in her head. Her fingers shook as she unfastened her dress, jumping when the fire in the hearth crackled and when the wind howled outside her window. Everything in her tensed and clenched as she pulled a simple-to-fasten dress out of her wardrobe and slipped it on. Then she knelt down next to her wardrobe and dug in the back with unsteady hands for the red bottles and the answer to the anxiety that was getting worse with every passing minute. She needed more of the Tears. Just a little would make it better—smooth everything out so she could find a way out of all of this for her and her brother, as she had always done.
Only when her hands opened the small panel at the back of the closet and she reached inside, she felt nothing.
Carys pushed herself to her feet. She grabbed armfuls of fabric and threw dresses to the floor until the wardrobe was empty and there was nothing blocking her view to confirm what she already knew.
The red bottles she needed were gone.