“Larkin was here?” Carys had ordered her to leave the city.
“Yes, Your Highness. Not long ago. She was wearing the dress of a noble lady. When I asked her what was wrong, she told me to tell you that she would be waiting after the ball at the place that you spoke of with her father—and that until you speak not to trust the stars. I couldn’t make sense of it. Do you think she’s gone mad with the same illness that struck the Queen?”
Carys felt her pulse jump. Larkin wasn’t crazy. She had a warning for Carys. Something that she had to tell her in person. A warning about the person who looked at the stars—the seer Imogen.
They would meet in the stables. After Carys knew what the problem was, she would fix it.
The warmth of the Tears swept over her and all of her muscles seemed to melt at once. Carys allowed Juliette to wash the mud from her hair and her body before answering a knock at the door and receiving a message from one of the Council pages.
“The Council of Elders will send an escort for you in two hours, Your Highness, who will bring you to the Hall of Virtues.”
Two hours. Just two hours before the next trial. “Did you see Lord Garret of Bisog in the hall?” she asked as Juliette helped her into a red silk robe. He had seemed insistent on talking to her, and it wasn’t typical of Garret to be dissuaded so quickly from something he was interested in. Perhaps he had changed since his time away from Garden City, but Carys doubted that.
“I heard several mention Lord Garret’s return to the Palace of Winds, Your Highness, but I have not seen him.”
So he was waiting for another time to corner her. She would have to be ready when he did. Had the attempt on Andreus’s life today succeeded, it would have put Garret one step closer to the throne—which was part of Elder Cestrum and the Council’s plan. But was it Garret’s? Could he or his uncle have been behind today’s attack?
She hoped not. But there were too many sinister occurrences in the castle for her to dismiss the idea that this was the case. The sabotaged power lines. The death of her father and brother. The poisoning of the only guards who knew what had really happened on the King and Prince’s trip back to Garden City. Carys was certain some if not all of the people behind these events would be in the Hall of Virtues tonight, smiling and dancing and waiting to stab her or Andreus, literally, in the back. She had to learn who posed the greatest threat and what they wanted. Andreus would take the throne, but that wouldn’t remove those who wished to cause them harm. Power was a prize too many wanted and would do almost anything to have.
Normally, Carys cared little for the primping ladies like her mother enjoyed before public audiences. As long as her hair was brushed and the dress Juliette selected didn’t make her feel like she was wrapped in a tourniquet, Carys deemed her appearance acceptable. But today she knew it was imperative the Council of Elders believe she was making a true effort to win the Trials and the crown. Otherwise they might think about her knife throwing and wonder why it was she had no skill with a bow. After all, aim was all in both of those pursuits. The Council had to believe this contest was real. She had counted ten pegs across on the tally board that hung on the castle walls facing the city. Her brother needed to gain eight more without raising suspicion over the Trials’ legitimacy. Which meant letting Juliette brush her hair until it shone, then sitting for what felt like forever as her maid twisted and reworked the styling before weaving diamond-, citrine-, and sapphire-jeweled pins into the intricate braids and curls.
Finally, Juliette declared her hair perfect and went to the wardrobe to pull out the dress Larkin had delivered for tonight. It was silvery blue and nothing like the ones her mother liked Carys to wear. When the light hit the fabric, it glowed like moonlight. And when Juliette fastened the gown and Carys turned toward the mirror and examined how she looked in the dress with the deeply scooped neckline, flowing sleeves, and shimmering skirt. Tears pricked her eyes. In Larkin’s hands, she was as close to beautiful as she would ever be. She wished she could give Larkin a farewell gift to match this one.
Thanking her maid, Carys asked Juliette to stop by the Queen’s quarters to check on how she was doing. Once Juliette was gone, Carys carefully cleaned her stilettos until they glistened like the jewels in her hair, and then slid the silver blades into the sheaths hidden in the seams of her dress. The weight of the stilettos against her thighs was reassuring as she paced the room, waiting for the escort the Council of Elders would send. Normally, Carys would have defied their wishes, but they were in control of the Trials and her brother and her fate. Openly challenging them was a bad idea.
Waiting was something Carys was bad at, and in the isolation of her rooms with only the rustle of her dress and the anxiety building inside her to keep her company, the minutes dragged by. The red bottle she’d stashed under one of the pillows on the settee called to her. She didn’t need another dose. Her hands were steady and her mind remained clear. Still, she couldn’t help pulling the bottle out from where she had hidden it and turning it over in her hands.
She pulled the stopper out of the bottle then put it back in a dozen times as need warred with common sense. If given another minute, need might have won, but a knock at the door had Carys sliding the bottle back into hiding before opening the door to find Garret waiting on the other side.
His red mane of hair looked almost like licks of fire against the black of his tunic. His nose looked more crooked than it had before. He had fought hard since he had left the Palace of Winds, and knowing Garret’s power, she was sure he had won. His eyes met hers and the intensity of the gaze and the strength of his large shoulders and arms pulled at the girl who longed for someone to shield her—a girl she never had been allowed to be.
Garret bowed. “I have been sent by my uncle to act as your escort, Your Highness. I hope you don’t mind.”
She should have known Garret would be the one Elder Cestrum sent to find her. The fact that she hadn’t immediately seen that possibility set her on edge. “Should I mind?” she asked as she closed her door behind her.
“I shouldn’t think so,” Garret said, holding out his arm.
She smiled, then turned and headed down the hallway toward the steps, leaving Garret to catch up. Once he did, he quietly said, “There are a great number of people who have done you harm over the years, Your Highness. I have never wanted to be one of them.”
“Is it any wonder I find that hard to believe, Lord Garret?” she asked, glancing at him. “Plotting with your uncle to seize the throne from my family would do me considerable harm.”
“I had nothing to do with my uncle’s scheme.”