Kate sat up straight, her nerves twitching at the sensitive subject. “My life in the castle is temporary. It always was. I came back to Norgard to learn the truth about my father.”
Anise stared at her for several long seconds before nodding. “If you’re sure, then let’s get on with it.” She pulled open a desk drawer and withdrew a large sapphire nearly the size of her thumb. Faint lines marked the magestone’s shimmering blue surface. Kate recognized it at once from a visit she and Signe had made to the order houses just a few days before. They’d gone into each one, searching for a magestone for sale that might help Bonner create his revolvers without getting caught. The incident in the Wandering Woods had inspired the idea—if whoever was behind the daydrake attacks could use the common spells available in the order shops to hide them, then why couldn’t Bonner? Only, the spells of any worth and power were embedded on precious gemstones and priced too high for the likes of Kate and Signe. The doublet could’ve paid for it, Kate thought, fretting once more as she pictured the state it was in now and dreading what Signe would say when she returned from Tyvald.
“This contains a binding spell.” Anise set the sapphire on the desk. “A curse that will only activate if the person bound to it breaks their vow. Do that, and every inch of your body will be covered in boils and lesions, including your tongue, so that you will be unable to speak any more betrayals.”
Kate shuddered, having no difficulty imagining how terrible it would be. Growing up, she remembered a young lord who’d incurred a similar curse, and he hadn’t been able to sit a horse for weeks afterward until the spell finally faded. At the time, she thought it the worst punishment a person could endure.
“Before I will allow you to learn anything else,” Anise continued, “you must accept the vow not to reveal these secrets. The truths you are determined to learn will put more than yourself at risk.”
Kate swallowed, questions swirling in her mind. What was her father involved in for this woman to go to such drastic, expensive lengths to ensure her silence? For half a moment, she considered taking Anise up on the offer to walk away. But no. The truth was what she came for, and she would have it.
“I accept the vow.”
“Very well. Hold out your hand.” Anise scooped up the sapphire and placed it on Kate’s outstretched palm. Then she slid her hand over Kate’s, cupping the stone between them. Anise spoke the words of the incantation, and Kate saw the light seep out through their fingers as the spell in the stone activated. Heat began to spread over her body, making her itch and want to squirm, but she resisted until it was over.
Once done, Anise returned the sapphire to the drawer. The etchings of the spell had turned to brown blemishes on the jewel’s surface, ruining its beauty and rendering it worthless. “Follow me,” she said, rising from her chair.
She led the way out of the office and into the tavern portion of the brothel. The chairs were all set on top of the tables, the floor still wet in places from the morning’s scrubbing. Anise stopped just beyond the door to the kitchens, and told Kate to wait, before going inside.
She reemerged a moment later with another woman joining her. Wearing an apron and with a kerchief wrapped around her head, the woman made for the most unlikely of cooks Kate had ever seen, especially inside a brothel. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with sea-green eyes and bright-blond hair that hung in a loose braid down to her waist. Although not young, the woman’s body was thin and lithe as a dancer’s. The only thing seemingly out of place was her scarred hands, covered in burn marks that ran from her fingers to her forearms before disappearing beneath the hems of her sleeves.
“This is Vianne.” Anise motioned to the woman.
Stepping forward, Vianne grasped Kate’s hand. “Welcome, Miss Kate. It’s so good to meet you at last. I’m glad you’ve finally come.”
Kate’s eyes widened, her confusion growing by the second. “Who . . . who are you?”
“Not here,” Anise said. Then she turned and strode from the room.
Vianne motioned for Kate to go first, and the two of them followed Anise out of the tavern and into the right-side hallway. Unlike the night before, all the doors were open this time, revealing the bedrooms within. Kate forced herself to look into each one, determined not to be embarrassed this time. She might have rejected Corwin’s offer to be his paramour, but she understood that some of the issue resided with her inability to grow beyond the untested ideals of her childhood. Each room presented a different flavor and feel. One was dark and sultry, decorated with lacy black curtains, black silk sheets, and more than a dozen candles, unlit at the moment. Another was done all in red. Yet another all in white. Whatever your pleasure, Kate thought with a peculiar feeling in her stomach.
When they reached the end of the hallway, Anise paused, looking over her shoulder a moment, then turned and entered the last room, another bedroom and the most ostentatious of all Kate had seen. Decorated in the royal colors of Norgard, a massive bed, large enough to hold ten people, loomed in its center, while an equally large sofa occupied one whole side of the room. Mirrors hung from every wall and the ceiling.
As Vianne closed the door behind them, Anise approached the mirror on the farthest wall. She grasped a knob at the top of the gilded frame and pulled. The mirror swung open to reveal a doorway beyond with stairs leading downward. Cool, damp air swept into the room, sending a flurry of chills over Kate’s skin. A single lamp that hung on the wall just inside lit the way.
Anise headed down the steps, and moments later they emerged in a cramped, low-ceilinged room stuffed to the brim with a long table and chairs. Several more doors were placed around the walls, and Kate wondered if there was a secret passage leading down here from every room above.
“I’ll let you take over,” Anise said, sitting down in the one of the chairs and motioning to Vianne.
Wordlessly, Vianne crossed the room to the farthest door in the corner. She paused with her hand on the doorknob and said to Kate. “He’s bound to be . . . excited. We don’t get visitors often. Please be patient with him.”
Who is behind that door? Kate thought, too bewildered to speak. She felt as if she were strapped to a runaway horse, incapable of doing anything but rush headlong into whatever danger awaited beyond.
Vianne pushed the door open and stepped inside. Kate noticed the warmth first, pleasant and welcome, a stark contrast to the room she’d been in. Four lamps hung from the walls, the flames inside them flickering and dancing playfully as if stirred by a breeze, one that couldn’t possibly be blowing in this cave-like place.
A little boy came hurtling across the room toward Vianne. At a single glance, Kate understood that this was her son. They had the same bright-blond hair, and when the boy reached Vianne’s opened arms, she picked him up and rained kisses down on his head while he laughed with delight.
“You’re back!” the boy said. Kate couldn’t quite place his age, although she guessed four or five, given his size. “That was fast. I’m—” The boy craned his head toward Kate. “Who is that?” He sounded at once both intrigued and frightened. His thin, small fingers tightened around Vianne’s shoulders, the knuckles showing white.
“This, my little prince, is a very special guest.” Vianne leaned down, forcibly returning the boy to his feet. She had to pry his hands from her shoulders, and even then he latched onto the folds of her skirt instead. Vianne turned to Kate. “This is my son, Kiran.”
Kate stared back at the woman, her mind an utter blank. An explanation of why this woman would be introducing her son tried to assert itself into Kate’s thoughts, but it was too impossible to allow. It couldn’t. It can’t be—