Theo said nothing. The silence deepened.
Did he not hear her? “The palace security is breached,” she added. The tension ate at the insides of her stomach. Impassive, he gave only more silence, deliberately maybe, to see how big a hole she’d dig for herself. “I… We need to do something. There’s a message in braille, under the table’s edge. I can tell you what it says. Please, please, let me help.”
Enough! I’ve said enough. Stop.
She clasped her hands together, tried to control herself, but the shaking in her hands spread until her entire body trembled. Where had all that training gone? She’d happily, almost, take a knife to the gut rather than wait like this, knowing she was losing him. Her teeth chattered. Bereft, she shut her eyes. His gaze fell on her still, flattening her, making her into a nothing thing, filled up with leaden pain and sorrow.
Slowly, unable to stop, she lay out straight upon the timber, prostrate at his feet, the white gown and petticoat frothing about like a wave crashing over her.
The opposite of heaven is hell, her inner voice whispered, and I’ve gone straight from one to the other. A high keen sounded in her head. That’s me, she thought. That’s me, screaming. But there was no doubt she deserved it, deserved whatever happened next. I’ve betrayed him all along.
Chapter Twenty-four
With her head to the floor, she couldn’t see what expression Theo wore, but she could hear the grinding of his teeth—this from a man she’d never seen truly angry. He was always in control. Eventually Dankyo broke the silence.
“Sir, we must act on this.”
Theo let out a hiss.
“Very well. Send for the officer in charge of security. Do it quietly. We need to find this Inkline and whoever is with him. Locate, isolate, capture, or kill if necessary.” She heard a sound that made her think he was scrubbing his hands through his hair. There had been no inflection in his voice. Dead and cold and angry.
“I’ll do that, sir.”
They left her there, on the floor until the officer returned; by then the tears had dried on her face. She heard the click of his boots, then the murmur of discussion as they talked near the curtained entrance.
“Claire,” said Dankyo. “Sit up. Get yourself on a chair. We need to ask you questions.”
She got up off the floor, rearranging her skirts, trying to catch a glimpse of Theo’s face without looking full-on at him. It was as expressionless as his voice.
So she sat on the chair as they bid her, then repeated the braille message. They found the message themselves, and Dankyo shot her a hard look. Surprised perhaps? She didn’t think he’d seen the technique before.
Finally the officer grasped the back of the chair he’d sat in the wrong way round, pushed himself upright, and twisted the chair back into a spot at the table.
“If the lass is sure this Inkline will be there, we’ll set up an ambush. But the lady has to walk in without alerting him. It’ll be dangerous.”
“I’ll do it,” she spat out before anyone could say otherwise.
Dankyo nodded grimly.
“So be it.” Theo shut, then opened his eyes. He rose, pulled his morning coat on, and carefully buttoned up. “Weapons? Dankyo?”
“Sir.” A curt nod, and Dankyo left.
What was this? What weapons did they speak of? Had they arranged something unusual? Knowing Dankyo he might have an electrorocket launch platform tucked away somewhere. With her eyes only, she pleaded with Theo. A simple acknowledgment of her presence would do, but he swiveled on his heel and strode away through the curtain.
So be it. She’d known this would happen. She’d known.
*
If palace security shadowed her to the rendezvous point, she couldn’t spot them. Just as well, for Francine de-camouflaged from a wall of tropical plants halfway up the grand stairs that spiraled to the roof. On her slim, muscular body, the greens and creams of the wall and the plants slowly moved across her skin. She was naked, as she had to be, when going quiet.
The patches of chameleon color merged, then faded to the dark chocolate Francine favored. For the thousandth time, Claire thanked her stars that she didn’t have Francine’s ability. Going naked in enemy territory wasn’t tempting. If things went wrong, Francine had minimal time to grab a weapon or even clothes. There’d be a stash somewhere, though.
Francine nodded. Though silent, her eyes spoke of the same ache to tell all that Claire felt. Best friends in the past, but what were they now? Could she trust Francine?