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A LONG MOMENT PASSED before I felt like I would be able to withstand the shame. When I looked up, Ferdy met my gaze squarely.
The shame was hard and fast and left me breathless, and even worse, it stripped Ferdy of all the fun and joy I loved about him.
“Well, I guess you were right.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Something terrible was going to happen tonight.” The harshness of his tone was unbearable, and I heard every splinter of his heartbreak in each syllable.
“I can explain,” I said, trying to find my bearings.
“You can explain,” Ferdy said. “But I don’t think I will wait around to hear it.”
“Ferdy, please—”
“Good day to you, mademoiselle,” he said, giving me a quick bow. “I hope you’ll be very happy in your engagement. Mr. Marcelin offers you such wonderful prospects, much more than I could ever hope to offer you—”
“That’s not it!” I stepped up in front of him, trying to stop him as he made for the door. “I’m trying to save people’s lives—”
“By destroying others’?”
“That’s not what I meant.” I took a hold of his arm. “Ferdy, Karl is King Ferdinand’s son.”
Ferdy finally stopped. “You know?”
“You know, too?” I blinked. “I found out a few days ago.”
“After he talked about marrying you before, at the Summerhouse Ball?”
“Yes,” I said. “He is—”
“So that is why you want to marry him?” Ferdy asked. “Because he’s a prince?”
“What? No,” I argued. “Listen to me, I’m trying to tell you—”
“I’m not going to listen to you,” Ferdy said, struggling to free himself from me. When I would not let go, he pulled his arm away even more, pushing me away with his other arm. “Let me go!”
I felt the last of my strength leave me at his bark, and I ended up tripping before slamming into the wall behind me.
“Ouch.” My shoulder scraped hard against the brick wall behind me. I sucked in my breath as a small trickle of blood oozed out from my skin.
I glanced up from my blood-speckled fingers to Ferdy’s face. He looked shocked and apologetic, and for a long second, I was certain he was going to run back and embrace me.
But a moment later, he pulled out a handkerchief from one of his pockets and tossed it my way. “My apologies. I must return to the streets for the night. It is for the best. That’s where I belong.”
His words cut into me deeply and the second he left, I slipped down to the floor, trying not to cry. My fingers were shaking, this time out of grief, as I reached for the handkerchief he had left behind, resting the soft silk against my cheek. The cut on my shoulder hissed with softly searing pain, but I ignored it. It felt better to bleed.
I knew I only had a limited amount of time to myself. Even if Karl did manage to convince Lord Maximillian to change their arrangement, there was still a chance that something was going to happen. I knew from our plans that Lady Penelope was keeping an eye on the King and Queen, and I knew that Ben was searching the castle for any signs of suspicious activity, especially from the Szapira household.
I was supposed to be the distraction, keeping an eye on Karl.
“For all the good it did.” I pulled out my mother’s dagger and looked at it again.
Now that he was leaving, I knew Ferdy was safe, even if he hated me. I managed to get Karl to discuss terms with Lord Maximillian. I did not know if the assassination plot was foiled, but if nothing else, I had bought time.
Even if I had broken Ferdy’s heart and my own in the process.
The door opened again, and I nearly jumped. “Ferdy?” I was unable to stop myself from hoping he would come back for me.
“Nora?” Ben’s voice was a welcome one, and if it had to be someone other than Ferdy, I was glad it was Ben. He was a friendly face I could count on.
“I’m over here,” I said, hurriedly wiping my eyes once more. It was time for me to find something more useful to do than cry over my pain.
“Lady POW was looking for you,” he said. “She just saw Karl Marcelin leave.”
“Why? He told me he was going to go talk to Lord Maximillian.”
“He’s gone, too.”
I felt fear seize hold of me and determination move to cut through it. “Then something must be happening somewhere.”
Ben sighed. “I’m not sure where. But I followed a footman from the Szapira household down this way when I thought I saw Ferdy storm out of this door and head toward the kitchens.”
“That was probably where he came in.”
“So it was Ferdy?” Ben asked. “I saw his face, but I wasn’t sure when I saw he was wearing those clothes.”
“That’s the way he sneaked inside the castle,” I said. “He danced with me for a song, and then ... ” I waved my hands, unable to say anything else. It was better to let Ben assume things.
“Is something wrong?” Ben asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing that can’t wait. We need to get to work. If Karl and Lord Maximillian are both gone, we have to work quickly to make sure nothing will happen to all the people here.”
Standing up, I stripped off my gown, tearing at the stays and ripping the fine fabric, just as Jaqueline had taught me. I stuffed the gown into a fireplace before quickly lighting it. The simple but thick layer of the dress began to burn, and while I was sorry to see such finery be destroyed, I felt much more like myself.
The smell of burning fabric, too similar to the aroma of Tulia’s house, chased me away. But I jerked my mask up and readied my dagger at my side.
“Are you finished?” Ben asked.
I nodded, reminding myself to be brave. “I’m ready.”
Ben and I made our way to the hallway, and then I sighed. “Wait,” I said. “Give me one moment.”
“Hurry,” Ben said with a quick nod. “I’ll head for the kitchens. Amir might be there already, checking for signs of the silver thallis herb.”
“If nothing else, the head chef will be able to tell if there’s something wrong with the food. We could warn them that way.”
I turned back to the fireplace, now smoking with the remnants of my dress. Taking the handkerchief Ferdy had thrown at me, I prepared to settle it on top of the pile. I would talk to him later, so there was no need to be so sentimental over his souvenir.
But just as I was about to let it go, the embroidery in the corner caught my eye.
The trotting horse, and the squiggles symbolizing wheat and waves were all too familiar.
He got this from the Szapira household.
I froze.
Is it possible ... ?
All those moments of Ferdy telling me he was a liar fell through my mind. He was well informed. He knew how to sneak around. He had a variety of jobs that allowed him to find out information on different people, sometimes very quickly.
He knew about the Cabal, and he would know that Tulia would recognize it if he talked to her about it.
Was it possible Ferdy was the one who attacked Tulia?
Surely not. I shook my head. But ...
“But if it was, I’ll kill him myself,” I muttered, before I turned around and hurried to catch up to Ben.