“Sure, thanks.”
Hildy plunks down in the chair, leans forward, and proceeds to pick black polish off her nails. Awkwardness and tension roll from her in waves. Lincoln retakes his seat beside me and we share a long look.
Something about this whole situation if off. Way off.
Hildy finally breaks the silence. “I don’t have a house, but I suppose you guessed that already.” She fidgets with the buttons on her white coat, which is the thrax color for outsiders and guests. “Octavia said it wouldn’t matter.”
“Mother was right,” says Lincoln gently. “After all, Myla doesn’t have a house and she’s my Queen.”
“Thanks.” Hildy nervously glances around the room.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
Hildy drums her fingers on her kneecaps. “Look, I don’t like this chair. I mean, it’s a nice looking as chairs go and all, but it’s not against a wall. I like being against a wall or in a corner, do you know what I mean?” She rakes her right hand through her black hair. “I sound insane, don’t I?”
“No, you sound like a warrior,” says Lincoln carefully. “Trained to watch exits.”
Hildy smiles with relief. “That’s right. I always stand in the far corner. Best line of sight in the room.”
Lincoln leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Classic thrax battle training.”
“Exactly,” agrees Hildy.
“And I’d imagine that training included being completely honest with your commander.”
I fight the urge to smile. Oh, I can see where Lincoln’s going with his. Hildy’s holding something back and my guy’s going to play the king card and get her to talk. No wonder Octavia didn’t want Hildy to chat with Lincoln. She must have suspected he could easily crack Hildy’s shell of silence.
“Yes.” Hildy shifts her weight in the chair. “That’s how every thrax warrior is trained. Honor, honesty, and strength. The three great pillars of demon hunting.”
“Quite right,” presses Lincoln. “And no matter what Octavia told you, you’re thrax, first and foremost. That means your ultimate loyalty is to the crown.”
Hildy picks at her nails some more. “I know that.”
“So, tell us what’s really going on.”
“I’d rather show you.” Hildy slowly pulls up her sleeve, exposing an elaborate looping scar pattern on her lower arm. “You know what this is, right?”
I’m about to say ‘I’ve no idea’ when Lincoln leaps to his feet, his eyes wild with rage. “What in blazes? You’re a Grand Master monopsyche?”
Grand Master mono-what? Whatever that is, I’ve never seen Lincoln so angry before.
“Yes,” says Hildy quietly.
“And did my father hire you?”
Hildy nods and looks away. “Yes, he did. I’m so very sorry.”
“This is the last straw!” Whirling on his heel, Lincoln grabs a porcelain vase from a nearby table. With a great swoop of his arm, he chucks it against the wall where it shatters with a crash. Lincoln grabs another vase, but I step into his path before he can smash it.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I guide Lincoln to lower his hand. “Look at me.” I cup his face in my palms. “Calm down. Tell me what’s going on.”
A guard’s voice sounds at the door. “Is everything alright in there?”
“We’re fine,” I call in a loud voice. “You’re dismissed.” I add in the secret phrase that means we’re really safe. “The angels are at ease.”
“Excellent,” says the guard. “I’ll take my leave.”
I gently slip my hands into Lincoln’s. His palms vibrate with tension, which makes me more nervous than ever before. “Please, tell me.”
“That mark on Hildy’s arm,” says Lincoln in a low voice. “It’s the sign of a rare type of thrax warrior.”
“I’m a bodyguard,” explains Hildy. “And I’m a shitty liar, too. I told Connor and Octavia that I could never keep my powers a secret, but they wanted to hire me anyway.”
I nod slowly, my brain trying to process what’s going on. “So, Connor and Octavia hired a bodyguard for Maxon. I’m still not understanding why that’s a problem. A lot of nobles have bodyguards.”
“Hildy, tell the Queen who you are and what you do. All of it.”
“I’m a monopsyche,” Hildy winces as she speaks the word, like she’s waiting for me to lose my mind as much as Lincoln. “Ever heard of it?”
“No.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. We’re a specialized type of thrax bodyguard and not part of the mainstream. You have to be a Striga mix.”