t will be easy enough to verify that the regent was visiting Princess Marguerite. Indeed, I find myself with a number of questions I would like to ask the young princess. I think it is time to pay her a visit.
I do not tell Beast. He will only try to stop me. Instead, I tell Aeva in case something should happen and I don’t return. And while she does not try to prevent it, she does insist on coming with me. “You will be traveling at night. It will be safer to travel together.”
“But I want you watching the girls.”
“They will be safe enough. It is you I am worried about.”
“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“I am not saying you aren’t, but there is no shame in having someone watch your back. Especially when venturing into unknown territory where someone may be conspiring with your enemy.”
She is right, dammit.
“Besides.” She tilts her head and smiles knowingly. “Have you given any thought to how you will get past the traps and snares placed in the surrounding woods? You will not be able to venture out on the road, which leaves only the forest.”
I sigh heavily, as if her suggestion greatly inconveniences me. “Very well. If you insist.”
* * *
Dressed as men, we sneak to the stables. As we saddle our horses, Aeva works some Arduinnite magic to keep the others from growing unsettled by our presence and giving us away to the grooms. When we are done, we also take the time to wrap our horses’ hooves with burlap sacks before leading them out onto the cobblestones in the courtyard. It is not until we reach the palace garden that we remove the cloth and mount.
We have not gone a hundred paces before Aeva puts out her hand. “Hold.” She backs up her horse in order to cut a wide swathe around a patch of bracken.
“What was that?” I whisper.
In answer, she reaches up, breaks a small branch off the closest tree, and throws it into the spot she has just avoided.
A loud, metal crunch ruptures the silence, and I find myself staring down into the closed jaws of a steel trap. “How did you know?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “I can smell them.”
“A gift from Arduinna?”
She snorts. “No. A gift from living in the woods all my life and being able to recognize the stench of iron.”
At her words, a new realization comes to me. The assassin would have needed to avoid these traps as well. Which means he was either someone from the palace or someone shared that knowledge with him.
Aeva peers at me. “Are you all right? I will find them all. You needn’t worry.”
I stare at the other woman. Should I tell her of the assassination attempt and this newest discovery?
I know it is the smart thing to do. She could easily be a target as well—simply for being with me. That is what finally forces me to tell her.
When I have finished, she grimly shakes her head. “I cannot decide if trouble seeks you out or you merely attract it to yourself as the moon attracts a moth.”
“I do not seek it out,” I protest. But she has already ridden ahead.
She finds two more traps and one snare before we finally clear the forest. I do not bother to thank her, as my openmouthed awe at her skill is gift enough for her.
* * *
When we reach the princess’s castle, Aeva waits in the nearby trees as I silently make my way to the palace walls. Marguerite’s bedchamber is likely near the solar—the room placed to receive the most sunlight and therefore having the largest window. I find that large window, with a smaller one on either side of it. I pick the right side, as it is in a corner with a chimney and the most promising spot, then quickly begin scaling the wall.
When I reach the window, I slip my knife in between the two panels of glass, gently lift the latch, and push one of the panes open, praying it will not squeak.
It does not.
Inside the room, four figures sleep in cots set up on the floor near the fire, while a large canopied bed occupies the opposite wall.
I inch my way to the bed, then slowly pull back the curtains.
A young girl sits there, wide awake. “Are you here to rescue me or assassinate me?”
Her question causes the fine hairs along the back of my neck to stir. “Why would you think someone has been sent to assassinate you?”
She wraps her arms around her knees. “I do not know what to think anymore. Everything I’ve been promised has been swept aside by politics. What I once thought was certain and safe holds nothing but doubt.”
“I am acquainted with that feeling,” I mutter.
“I no longer trust any promises that have been made, not even those regarding my personal safety.”
For all that she is an indulged, pampered princess, she is not lacking in wits. “You’re wise not to trust anyone, but I am not here to kill you. I wished only to see you with my own eyes and ascertain whether you were safe.”
Intrigued, she scoots herself to sit up against her pillow. “Who are you?”
“I am no enemy, that I promise. I am merely trying to untangle an ugly knot of truth and lies.”
“It’s too bad you wear that hood so I cannot better determine your sincerity.”
“It is too bad,” I agree. “But I cannot risk being recognized later.”
She puts her finger to her chin and studies me. “Have you been sent to rescue me? I must admit, I was expecting a troop of mounted knights with my father at their head, but you will do.”
It is all I can do to keep from smiling. “Do you need rescuing?”
She makes a delicate sound that in anyone else I would call a snort. “It has been well over a month since my betrothal was cast aside like day-old bread. I do not want to molder away in this castle forever.”
“Has the king or regent indicated they have planned such a thing for you?”
“The king? No.”
“But the regent has?”
She shrugs. “I have not spoken to her since she bid me goodbye nearly two months ago. She has not shared her plans with me.”
And there is one of the answers I came looking for. “But you have spoken to the king?”
She settles back against the head of her bed, making herself comfortable. “Yes. He feels guilty. Not just for breaking our betrothal agreement,” she explains. “But for his claims of love and devotion that have turned out to be as meaningful as dust.”
It would be easier to feel sorry for her if she wasn’t so clearly sharp and full of wit. I am not sure that she hasn’t received the better end of that bargain. Even so, I am sorry for the pain that Arduinna’s arrow caused her, for all that it must be weighed against the cost of war. “Do you find it odd that the regent has not been to see you?”
She purses her mouth, thinking. “She has always treated me with great affection. A daughter could not have asked for a better mother. But now, now I do not know.” It is the first time I hear a note of true loss and confusion in her voice. She feels more betrayed by the regent than the king, I think.
“The regent has always been a complex woman.” I turn and look at the princess’s attendants, sleeping on their cots. “Did you know she often bribes the closest associates of her enemies? How long have your ladies in waiting been with you?”