“Step outside, please. You may go first, Lord Cassiapeus.”
Esti covered her mouth with both hands. Even so, a whimper emerged. I have two daggers, she had said. Quick as he could, Cas took the prince from his basket, blanket and all, and thrust him at the queen. Just before the door opened he slipped one of his daggers into the blanket so that it rested flat against the prince’s back. He spoke under his breath. “Courage, Your Grace. You know her better than anyone.”
Cas stepped down from the carriage and into the bitter night’s cold. He knew this place. In the daylight, he would have been able to see the old aqueduct rising above the trees. These were the ruins at Patalon, a castle abandoned for so long the forest had begun its creep. Vines slithered up walls and into windows. Moss blanketed the castle steps.
At the foot of those steps were four hooded figures. Two held torches; two pointed crossbows directly at Cas. Princess Jehan stood between them, her own hood thrown back despite the cold. When the queen appeared beside Cas, the prince in her arms, he could sense the change in the air. One filled with quiet menace. The stillness before the storm.
Commander Terranova jumped down from the driver’s perch. White-faced, he did not look at Cas or the queen, but called out, “I did what you asked. Where is my wife?”
A crossbowman shot him in the throat. The commander fell back onto the dirt, arms and legs splayed wide. Blood everywhere. Esti fainted.
Princess Jehan came closer, smiling slightly at the queen’s strangled gasp. Cas had already seen what illness and torture had done to her. Hair turned white, deep grooves carved into her face. The queen had not.
Princess Jehan said, “Hello, Mari.”
32
Hello, Jehan.” There was nothing in the queen’s voice to suggest terror. It was calm, and it was quiet.
“It’s cold out,” Princess Jehan said. “Won’t you come in? We have a fire.” She turned to Cas and in the same pleasant voice said, “If you do anything foolish, we will not shoot you—we will shoot the child. Understood?”
Beside him, the queen did not breathe.
“Yes,” Cas said in a stifled voice.
“Good!” Princess Jehan led the queen away. After a helpless glance at Esti, unconscious on the ground, in the cold, Cas followed. How long would it be before the royal guards realized they had lost an entire carriage? The most important one? They must have discovered the queen’s absence by now. Which meant that help was on the way.
If they knew where to look.
If others had not been blackmailed.
Cas turned his gaze upward, searching for any sign of the aqueduct, but the moonlight remained hidden by cloud cover. A crossbow prodded him in the back, moving him along.
Cas found himself bound hand and foot with rope. He had offered no resistance when the guards had taken his mace, as well as the extra dagger hidden in his boot.
They were in a small room, one of the few that still had a roof. It had likely been used as a steward’s work chamber. Master Jacomel would not have approved of the cobwebs and dust. At least the fireplace worked, though Cas had been dumped in a corner far away from its warmth.
Princess Jehan and the queen sat by the fire. A small table separated them. The queen held a cup with her right hand; her other arm cradled the prince against her shoulder. In the hours since they had arrived, she had not let him go once. Cas worried about what would happen when the baby woke, needing to be fed or changed, disturbing the strange peace between the two women.
There had been no mention of poisoned nurses or dead painters. No reference to the prince’s near drowning on his naming day. Instead, they sipped at their tea and spoke of the past. Families, friends, childhood adventures and misadventures. More than once, Cas saw the queen’s hand spasm from holding the prince up for so long. Neither woman mentioned it.
“We were going to raise our children together, remember?” Princess Jehan said. “And if one of us had a son and the other a daughter . . .”
“We would make sure they married,” the queen finished. “Then you and I would be family, truly. I remember, Jehan.”
A chill crept along Cas’ neck and down his arms.
The guard who had tied him up stood by the door. The three additional guards had not made an appearance, though Cas heard rumblings from other parts of the castle. None of the voices sounded like Esti. This guard had pushed back his hood, revealing a face only a handful of years older than Cas. He was both taller and wider, muscles rippling beneath his tunic. He held a sword. Cas would have thought twice about provoking him even if the prince’s life had not been threatened. Cas’ mace was on the floor behind the guard, propped against the wall.
Cas had been tossed on his side, bound hands facing the wall. He watched the guard carefully as he tried to free himself. In prison, they had known better than to use rope to bind the men. Rope could be loosened, little by little. It could be chewed through, if one was desperate enough.
“I can’t have babies, Mari. He took that from me.”
Pausing, Cas looked across the chamber. There were tears in both women’s eyes. Someone must have told the queen about their hideous findings at the doctor’s house. Chains, cuffs, a womb floating in a jar.
“I know, dear heart.” The queen set her cup down. Princess Jehan came around and knelt before her, resting her head against the queen’s skirts as she wept, silently, her shoulders shaking. The burly guard stepped forward, a look of concern on his face.
“I should never have left you.” The queen stroked her hair, even as the hand cradling the baby shook. “I am so very sorry.”
Prince Ventillas stirred. Cas held his breath until the child settled back into sleep, then worked faster on his bindings.
Princess Jehan said, “I woke up and I did not know where I was. You were gone. Faustina, too. Everyone was speaking Oliveran, screaming in Oliveran. The hospital was a nightmare. I was so frightened.”
The queen bowed her head. Her tears fell onto her friend’s snow-white hair.
Princess Jehan said, “Every time I closed my eyes I thought I would not open them again. I hoped for it. But little by little, I felt better. One of the nurses said a doctor was coming to take me away. He would help me get well.”
The queen looked across the chamber at Cas, her face drained of all color. Her expression said she wished the doctor were still alive so she could kill him herself, slowly and painfully.
“What did he do to you, Jehan?” the queen asked. “Will you tell me?”