“I do understand, and I hope you understand that as long as you treat me like an untrustworthy captive, I will act like one instead of like your wife.”
She pulled away from Apollo and without another word turned her back and walked out of the room, pink hair swishing behind her.
He had an urge to chase her, a remnant of the Archer’s curse that made him want to stop her before she reached the door and forbid her from leaving. He didn’t. Apollo knew it was better that she left right now, and there was only so far she could go.
Evangeline might have decided that she didn’t want to act like his wife, but it didn’t change the fact that she was. She was his. And one way or the other, eventually she would want him as much as he wanted her.
A few minutes later, Apollo met Lord Slaughterwood in his private study.
Robin Slaughterwood had always had the sort of good-humored nature that drew people to him like a magnet. But he wasn’t smiling today. His eyes had dark circles, his mouth was drawn, and his face was sallow. He looked as if he’d aged five years since Apollo had last seen him.
“You look excellent, my friend. Being engaged suits you well.”
“You’re as smooth a liar as ever,” Slaughterwood grumbled. “I look like hell, and the engagement is over. But I’m not here to talk about that.”
“You have a lead on Jacks?” Apollo asked.
“No,” Slaughterwood said quietly, stepping closer to the fire. “I just didn’t think you’d want me mentioning Vengeance Slaughterwood’s cuff.”
“Did you find it, then?” Apollo tried not to give too much of his excitement away. The cuff was an old story, a fairytale, the kind he’d never put too much faith in. But he’d learned recently that some of the old stories held far more truth—and more power—than he’d previously believed.
“No,” Slaughterwood said bluntly. “If it exists, my family doesn’t have it. But I did find something else that I thought might be of interest to you.” He handed Apollo a heavy scroll bound up with a thin cord of leather. “Be very careful with this. And whatever you do, don’t throw away the ashes.”
Chapter 9
Evangeline
Although Evangeline was forbidden from leaving the castle to visit Mr. Kristof Knightlinger, one of his scandal sheets was delivered with her breakfast tray the following morning.
It was not what Evangeline wanted. She still wanted to pay Mr. Knightlinger a personal visit and ask him to tell her everything he knew about her past.
She would have even settled for the gossip columnist coming to see her at Wolf Hall. However, as Mr. Knightlinger hadn’t responded to the letter she’d written him yesterday, she curled up on the sofa to read his scandal sheet instead.
Evangeline didn’t want to be curious. She wanted to stay frustrated with Apollo—and she was. Her shoulder still hurt from where Garrick’s bird had gouged her skin, and her heart ached whenever she thought about how the sweet Apollo from the rooftop was only who the prince was sometimes. And yet she also couldn’t help but wonder where he’d gone.
As she dressed in a diaphanous peach gown dotted with little pink, white, and violet flowers, Evangeline asked Martine if she knew anything of the prince’s departure. But like her, the maid had learned about it from the scandal sheet.
She’d have to ask her guards, then. Evangeline adjusted the ribbons securing her gathered sleeves and braced herself for a potential battle before stepping toward the doors to her suite. They opened to the outer hallway, where two new guards in shining armor stood waiting.
“Hello, Your Highness.” The guards greeted her instantly with deep bows and intense attention.
“I’m Hansel.”
“And I’m Victor,” said the other.
Evangeline imagined they must have been brothers—they had the same cleft chins, the same thick necks, and even the same red mustaches. She wondered briefly if having mustaches was a requirement for guards.
“What can we do for you?” Hansel said with a smile.
Evangeline briefly forgot why she had opened the door. Both guards were new, and so far they appeared to be nice.
Apollo had kept his word.
It was no doubt an easy thing for him to change a few guards. Apollo probably had thousands of guards at his disposal. And yet Evangeline felt her heart soften just a little.
“Can either of you tell me where Prince Apollo has gone?”
“We’re sorry, Your Highness. His Highness didn’t tell us where he was going,” said Hansel.
“But we do have a message for you,” said Victor. “Your tutor just stopped by and said to give you this.” He handed Evangeline a scroll tied with wine-colored twine.
There wasn’t a wax seal, and therefore the letter was not private. And just like that, her heart put up its guard once more.
She almost didn’t read the note from the tutor—a proper prisoner wouldn’t have been eager to obey any instructions. But she’d already undone the twine, so she read the message.
After signing the missive, the tutor had drawn a painstaking map of the Wolf Hall gardens. Then in handwriting so small that Evangeline nearly missed it, she’d written the words Please come!
Evangeline didn’t know if it was the word please or the exclamation mark that struck her. Perhaps it was the combination of both that made her feel this request was perhaps a bit more than it appeared on the surface.
Tower bells rang in the eleventh hour right as Evangeline stepped outside the castle.
The sky was velvet gray and full of swirling clouds that threatened more rain and told her to move quickly down the cobbled paths lined in hedges with pops of bright purple flowers.
There were four major gardens on the Wolf Hall grounds—the Sunken Garden, the Water Garden, the Flower Garden, and the Ancient Garden. Tucked away within each of these gardens were the four minor gardens—the Fairy Garden, the Moss Garden, the Secret Garden, and the Wishing Garden.
According to the tutor’s carefully drawn map, the Wishing Garden with its Well of Wishes was situated in the center of the Flower Garden. It appeared to be a walled garden, surrounded by a moat and reachable by a bridge.
It should have been easy enough to find. The map was quite good, and the Flower Garden was manicured to perfection.
Yesterday’s rain had left the castle grounds full of rich, damp colors so deep that Evangeline imagined that were she to touch any flowers, their petals would stain the tips of her gloves. It was lovely in a way she almost wished it wasn’t. Evangeline didn’t want to be ensorcelled by the beauty. It felt too close to being dazzled once more by Apollo.