He cut her off. “I am just joking, my lady.”
Amilia scowled, then pulled a parchment off her desk, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it at him. “Honestly, I don’t know why I hired you.”
“Not for my comedy, I sense.”
Amilia gathered a pile of parchments, a quill, and a bottle of ink and headed for the door. “I’m going to be working from Modina’s room today. Look there if you need me.”
“Of course,” he said as she left.
Not far down the hall, Amilia saw Anna walking by with a tray of food. “Anna,” she called, rushing toward her. “I told you to stay with the empress!”
“Yes, milady, but …”
“But what?”
“The empress asked me to fetch her some breakfast.”
A cold chill shot up Amilia’s spine. The empress had asked her. “Has the empress ever spoken to you before?”
On the verge of tears, Anna shook her head. “No, milady, I was very honored. She even knew my name.”
Amilia raced for the stairs, her heart pounding. Reaching the top and nearing the bedchamber, she feared what she would find. Nimbus was right, perhaps more than he knew. Modina was not stupid, and Amilia’s mind filled with the many terrible possibilities. Arriving at the door, she pushed Gerald aside and burst into the empress’s room. She steeled herself, but what she saw was beyond her wildest imaginings.
Modina and Ella sat together on the empress’s bed, hand in hand, chatting.
Amilia stood still, shocked. Both glanced up as she entered. Ella’s face was fearful, but Modina’s expression was calm as usual, as if expecting her.
“Ella?” Amilia exclaimed. “What are you doing—”
“Gerald,” Modina interrupted, “from now on, no one—and I mean no one—is to enter without my say-so. Understood?”
“Of course, Your Eminence.” Gerald looked down guiltily.
Modina waved her hand. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t tell you. Now please close the door.”
He bowed and drew the door shut.
Amilia meanwhile stood silent. Her mouth was agape but no words came out.
“Sit down before you fall down, Amilia. I want to introduce you to a friend of mine. This is Arista, the Princess of Melengar.”
Amilia tried to make sense out of the senselessness. “No, Modina, this is Ella—a scrub girl. What’s going on?” Amilia asked desperately. “I thought—I thought you might be—” Her eyes went to the broken pitcher and shards of mirrored glass scattered across the corner of the room.
“I know what you thought,” the empress said, looking toward the window. “That’s another reason you should be welcoming Arista. If I hadn’t seen her in the courtyard and realized—well—anyway, I want you two to be friends.”
Amilia’s mind was still whirling. Modina appeared more lucid than ever, yet she made no sense. Maybe she only sounded rational. Maybe the empress had cracked altogether. At any moment, she might introduce Red, the elkhound from the kitchen, as the Ambassador of Lanksteer.
“Modina, I know you think this girl is a princess, but just a week ago you also thought you were dead and buried, remember?”
“Are you saying you think I’m crazy?”
“No, no, I just …”
“Lady Amilia”—Ella spoke for the first time—“my name is Arista Essendon, and I am the Princess of Melengar. Your empress isn’t crazy. She and I are old friends.”
Amilia stood staring at the two of them, confused. Were they both insane? How could—Oh sweet Maribor. It’s her! The long fingernails, the way she met Amilia’s stare, the bold inquiries about the empress. Ella was the Witch of Melengar. “Get away from her!” Amilia yelled.
“Amilia, calm down.”
“She’s been posing as a maid to get to you.”
“Arista’s not here to harm me. You’re not, are you?” she asked Ella, who shook her head. “There, you see? Now come here and join us. We have much to do.”
“Thrace.” Ella spoke, looking nervously at Modina. The empress raised a hand to stop her.
“The both of you need to trust me,” Modina said.
Amilia shook her head. “But how can I? Why should I? This—this woman—”
“Because,” the empress interrupted, “we have to help Arista.”
Amilia would have laughed at the absurdity if Modina had not looked so serious. In all the time she had taken care of her, Amilia had never seen her so focused, so clear-eyed. She felt out of her element. The hazy Modina was gone, but she was still speaking nonsense. She had to make her understand, for her own good. “Modina, guards are looking for this woman. They’ve been combing the city for days.”
“That’s why she’s going to stay here. It’s the safest place. Not even the regents will look for her in my bedroom. And it’ll make helping her that much easier.”
“Helping her? Helping her with what?” Amilia was nearly at the end of her own sanity just trying to follow this absurd conversation.
“We’re going to help her find Degan Gaunt, the true Heir of Novron.”
CHAPTER 14
CALIS