A Wicked Thing

TWENTY-ONE

 

 

“ARE YOU FEELING ALL RIGHT, PRINCESS?” BETSY ASKED the following morning as she pinned up Aurora’s hair. “You are looking pale.”

 

“Yes,” Aurora said. She had slept little, her mind too full of the king’s orders, of people dying within the castle while she huddled in her room. Surely Betsy would know something about what had happened, even if it was distorted by lies. But Aurora could not tell her what she had seen. “I just—I heard some things, late last night. People running and shouting. I wasn’t sure what was happening.”

 

“Nothing happened last night, Princess, as far as I know. Maybe you were dreaming.”

 

“Maybe.” She glanced at Betsy’s reflection. The maid’s expression was steady, her hands sure. She did not look like she was hiding anything. “It sounded real.”

 

“Everything was fine, Princess,” Betsy said firmly. “And if it wasn’t, you are safe here, with your guards.”

 

Aurora nodded. Yet she had put Betsy at risk again, by leaving her room at night, ignoring all locks and warnings and running straight toward trouble. She felt a tug of guilt. “I am sorry, you know,” she said softly. “For what happened before.”

 

Betsy’s hands stilled. “It’s not your place to apologize to me, Princess.”

 

“But it is.” She stepped away, sliding her hair out of Betsy’s reach and turning to look at the younger girl. “I ignored your warnings, and you got in trouble because of me. And I really am sorry.”

 

Betsy nodded. She smiled. “There’s no need to worry about the past, Princess,” she said. “We’ve got your wedding to think on.” She stepped up on tiptoe and pinned another curl away from Aurora’s face. “And the banquet tomorrow. The queen’s got a dress all picked out for you, but I was thinking about your hair. Perhaps some twists from the front, sweeping to a bunch of rosettes on the back of your head, and then loose curls . . . if that pleases you, of course.”

 

“Yes,” Aurora said. A smile crept across her lips despite herself. “That sounds lovely.”

 

Betsy nodded and slid a pin into place. She opened her mouth to speak again, but the door opened, and Queen Iris swept into the room. She wore a tense, pinched expression, her hands clutched in front of her.

 

“Prince Finnegan wishes to see you,” the queen said. She emphasized the ns in Finnegan’s name so that it sounded like an insult.

 

Aurora turned. A lock of hair tumbled, brushing her shoulder. “Right now?”

 

“Yes, right now,” the queen said. “Why else would I be here? Betsy, leave her hair. She will have to do as she is.”

 

He must have news, some new information about the events of the previous night. Aurora removed the loose pin, trying to appear calm. “What does he wish to see me about?”

 

“Goodness knows, Aurora. If that prince has any logic in his head, he is loath to share it with me.”

 

The queen led Aurora to a small lounge filled with comfortable-looking chairs on one of the castle’s upper floors. Finnegan stood up when the door opened, offering her a casual smile. His expression did not give a single hint about the last time they had spoken.

 

“Ah, Princess Aurora,” he said. “How lovely to see you again.” He bent down and brushed his lips across the back of her hand. Her cheek tingled with the memory of his kiss, the anticipation that burned when she thought he would really kiss her, the thrill of uncertainty over whether she would shove him away. “Thank you for allowing us another meeting, my dear Iris. I appreciate it, as always.”

 

The queen tilted her head in acknowledgment. “I am afraid I can only spare the princess for half an hour. We have many things to do in preparation for tomorrow’s banquet.”

 

“Yes, of course,” Finnegan said. “I will savor the moments.”

 

The queen nodded again, her hands held before her. “I will return to collect you, Aurora. My guards will wait outside the door if you need anything.” Then she departed, her skirts flowing out behind her.

 

Aurora spoke as soon as the door clicked shut. “What is it?” she said. “Did you learn something about last night?”

 

“Nothing more than what you heard. The king is keeping it quiet. I doubt Iris even knows.”

 

Aurora shook her head. “He can’t keep it quiet for long,” she said. “So many people are dead.”

 

“People that nobody cares about,” Finnegan said. “If we hear about it, it’ll be about rebels storming in and killing the king’s men. But they’ll keep that quiet too, if they can. It wouldn’t be good for the king to reveal flaws in his defenses, so close to the happy day.”

 

“You heard about it,” Aurora said. “You knew before it even started.”

 

“I have my sources,” he said.

 

“You have spies, you mean.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Why didn’t you stop it?” she said. “If you knew what was going to happen?”

 

He sat down on one of the comfortable chairs. “How would I stop it, Aurora? Please, enlighten me. How do I stop people I don’t know from doing something they’ve already started, or stop the sovereign of another country from dealing with his own criminals? Should I swoop in with my dragons and threaten them all? Or maybe you were thinking something subtler. Charming them all into submission, perhaps?”

 

She frowned. “Don’t mock me,” she said. “Not now.”

 

“It’s strange how you always take the truth as mockery. Perhaps there is just something inherently mockable about you.”

 

“Or perhaps there is just something inherently insufferable about you.”

 

“Insufferable?” he said. “Harsh words, Aurora. But remember, I was the one who kept you informed last night. Without me, you’d be as ignorant as you were before.”

 

“I guess that makes you my spy,” she said. “Although not a very informative one.”

 

“I live to serve. If not very well.”

 

She still refused to sit down. She paced, the nervous energy of the night buzzing through her.

 

“Things could have been worse,” Finnegan said, after a few moments of silence. “That friend of yours was lucky to escape.”

 

“Friend?” She stopped. “What do you mean—?”

 

“I saw your face, when they were threatening that boy. You knew him.”

 

She stared at him. There seemed little point in lying. “Yes,” she said. The confession made her dizzy. “I did. Or I thought I did.”

 

“Thinking of betraying Rodric, were you? And with someone other than me? I’m hurt, Aurora, truly I am.” He spoke lightly, but something hard and intense gleamed in his eyes.

 

“If you want to give me that nonsense, now is not the time.”

 

“Now seems exactly the time.” He stood up, so that she had to crane her neck to look at him. He was at least six inches taller than she was. For once, his expression was sincere, without a hint of a grin. “You saw King John for who he really is last night. You can’t stay here, not after that.”

 

“I have to stay.”

 

“No,” he said. “You don’t. And you’d be a fool to do so. There’s no hope for you here. There’s no hope for anyone.”

 

“So you’re trying to convince me to betray my country to save it? How noble of you.”

 

“Well, my motives aren’t entirely noble,” he said. “But you summed it up rather well.” He leaned closer, until his nose almost brushed hers. “Things are only going to get worse, Aurora. Last night was just a taste of what will happen if you stay.”

 

“How can you know that?”

 

“Because I’ve seen these things before. This is only the beginning, Aurora. Which is why you should listen to me. Have you wondered why, even though we’re small, your king and queen fear Vanhelm? It’s because we’re rich. Well organized. People are happy to ally with us.”

 

She stepped backward, forcing more space between them. “It’s because they’re stupid enough to think someone like you could control the dragons. Not because you’re actually powerful.”

 

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