Realization dawned bright as a new star in her mind, and Kate stood from the desk on trembling legs. Go to Fenmore. Was this what he meant? It seemed impossible, and yet she found herself running her hands over the painting’s surface, searching it for some hidden message. Finding nothing, she lifted the painting off the wall, ready to rip the back of it open.
Instead she found a lockbox embedded in the wall behind it, hidden all this time. Her pulse began to race as she raised her hands to the handle and pulled. Surely it would be locked, but to her relief, it slid open without hindrance. Her father must not have seen reason to keep it locked when it was already so well hidden.
A book lay inside the small space, turned sideways to fit. Kate pulled it out, her imagination spinning visions of a diary with the latest entry an explanation of everything. But when she set it on the desk and opened the front cover, she discovered it was only a ledger, similar to the one her father had used to keep track of their finances.
Similar, but not the same. In the year before his death, Hale had begun to show his daughter a little of how to balance their money. He knew that his wife would never be up for the task, and he didn’t believe in trusting a hired clerk to do it. Kate would’ve recognized that ledger immediately, and this was not it. That one he always kept in a desk drawer.
Why have two? She flipped through the pages, full of entries written in her father’s untidy scrawl. She searched it all the way to the back, still hoping for a note but finding nothing. Yet she knew without doubt that this was what her father had wanted her to find. There could be only one reason why he would have a second book: to hide a secret.
One Kate was now determined to uncover for herself.
17
Kate
SHE WORKED LATE INTO THE night, not even stopping for dinner, despite Signe’s protests when she returned later that evening. But her friend knew Kate well enough not to bang her head against such a wall of stubbornness. Especially once Kate explained the significance of the ledger.
Probing it for its secrets proved a long and difficult task. It contained records that appeared to date back to the three years before Hale’s death. At first Kate struggled to make sense of it, many of the names unfamiliar. She wished she had the original ledger to compare it to, but memory would have to suffice—there was no sign of the other anywhere in the quarters.
Still, the longer she worked, the more she made sense of it, recognizing which entries were for upkeep on the house in the Glentrove district, which were payments to her tutors, the seamstress bill, weaponry, and so many other day-to-day, mundane expenses. The payees she didn’t know, she wrote down on a separate piece of parchment, marking them off when any insight came to her later.
Her eyes began to burn and her head to ache as the hours stretched on, but finally she uncovered the only secret the ledger had to give. Of all the entries, there was only one she failed to recognize by the end—regular payments to an establishment called the Sacred Sword. Kate had no idea what sort of business it was, but guessed it must be a tavern or gaming house based on its location in the Burnside district. Either way, she was determined to find out why her father would spend such a regular and large amount of money and why he would’ve needed to keep it secret.
Maybe he had a gambling problem, Kate speculated. Two years ago she would’ve dismissed the idea as absurd; her father’s only passion in life was his horses. And his daughter. But she was old enough now for the blinders of childhood to have been stripped away, to know that even good men sometimes fell victim to their own cravings, whether it was drink or game or some other debauchery.
She hoped she was wrong, but even if she wasn’t, it couldn’t be worse than not knowing. She wanted to head to this Sacred Sword right now, but she was too tired. Tomorrow then, she vowed.
Kate woke the next morning to a loud knock on the door. It was early, and she wasn’t done sleeping yet. “Go away,” she said, pulling a pillow over her face.
But the person only knocked again, louder this time.
Muttering a curse, Kate rolled out of bed and stumbled to the door in only her nightshift and bare feet. She cracked it open, ready to give the person a harsh dismissal, but her mind went blank when she saw Corwin standing there.
He blinked at her state of undress. “Apologies. I didn’t realize you’d still be abed.”
“I was up late.” Kate wrapped her arms around her chest. “Is there something you wanted?”
He hesitated a moment, then seemed to recover his nerve. “Yes, to invite you for a ride. I’ve even brought another bribe.” He held out his hand, revealing a stack of sweet rolls.
Kate bit her lip, wanting to say no. She had plans today, but the smell of the rolls was too good to resist after her late night and no supper. She opened the door.
“Come in while I get changed.”
Five minutes later, Kate emerged from her bedroom dressed in a tunic, breeches, and overskirt, her black hair tied in a neat braid. A scent of roses hung about her thanks to the bath.
Corwin looked up from where he was sitting at her father’s desk, the ledger still open to the last page in front of him. “Was this your father’s? Where did you find it?”
Cursing herself for being so careless, she debated her answer. Then she remembered he had promised to help her uncover the truth. The only secret she needed to keep from Corwin was about her family’s wilder magic. She doubted the Sacred Sword had anything to do with that, though.
“In a lockbox behind that painting.” She gestured toward the wall. “I think it’s what my father meant by ‘go to Fenmore.’ When I was little, I thought that painting was what Fenmore looked like. I’d forgotten until yesterday.”
Corwin peered up at it, his mouth forming an O of surprise. “Do you know what it means?”
Kate stepped up to the desk and helped herself to a sweet roll. “Not yet. But for some reason my father was making payments to a place called the Sacred Sword that he didn’t want anyone to know about.”
Corwin made a choking sound and tried to hide it behind a cough. “Yes, that makes sense. I’m sure your mother wouldn’t have approved.”
Kate tilted her head, frowning. “Why do you say that?”
Corwin dropped his gaze and made a show of wiping the crumbs from his tunic. “Because the Sacred Sword is . . . ah . . . a . . . brothel.”
Kate stared dumbfounded for several seconds until the realization of this truth struck her. Was that all it was? He’d been visiting a brothel and wanted to keep it secret from his wife? Well, yes, he would’ve wanted to keep it secret from Mother. Only—
Kate bent toward the ledger and ran her finger down the entries until she reached the very last payment he’d made to the Sacred Sword. She motioned to Corwin, her finger still in place. “Is this the kind of money one spends in a brothel like that?”
Corwin turned bug-eyed at the question and coughed again. “Um, no. For that kind of money, he would have to be visiting twice a day, every day of the month if not more.”
Kate tapped the toe of her boot against the marble floor. “It doesn’t make sense. We both know there’s no way he could’ve been visiting so often. Not unless he could be in two places at once. So why spend so much?”
“No idea.” Corwin shrugged, then narrowed his gaze at Kate. “But please tell me you’re not planning on going there to find out.”
“Whyever not?”
Corwin ran a palm over his face. “It could be dangerous, Kate. The men who frequent that kind of place aren’t the sort of people you should be around.”
Kate rolled her eyes. “I can take care of myself, Corwin.”
“I know, I know.” He raised his hands in surrender. “But if you’re going to go, then I should go with you.”
Making a face, she shook her head. “It wouldn’t work. If the secret my father is hiding there is connected to why he attacked the king, then it’s doubtful anyone who knows anything is going to talk to you, the high prince, about it.”