Larkin nodded and swallowed hard. “I know you wanted me to leave town and my father and I planned to, but I wanted to bring you the dress I’d been working on for you. The tournament was over and everyone was returning by the time I reached the castle with the garments. There were rumors about an attack at the tournament and I wasn’t sure if someone would question me coming to the castle, so I went through the maze paths in the courtyard that lead to the kitchen gardens.” She paused to breathe. “It was there I heard Lady Imogen’s voice coming from around the corner. I started to go back the way I came. But that’s when I heard her tell someone not to worry. That Prince Andreus already was hers in ways Micah never was and once you were killed he would rely on her even more. She said that once the appointed time came for the true King to take the throne, Prince Andreus would be far easier to kill than Prince Micah and King Ulron had been.”
For a moment Carys couldn’t breathe. The words slammed through the haze that surrounded her and the truth dawned. “They killed Micah and my father.”
“I believe so, Highness. I should have left and found the guards and brought them there to hear them speak, but I didn’t know who to trust. And I was too scared to move.”
Carys was certain had Larkin left she would never have brought the guard back in time. Even if she had, after the part Captain Monteros and his men had played in tonight’s trial, there was a chance he was part of Imogen’s plot. If that were the case, Larkin wouldn’t be standing here to tell her tale now.
“You did the right thing. Did the person Lady Imogen was speaking with give any clue as to his identity?”
Larkin nodded. “His voice was low and quiet and I think I heard him say something about a visit to the North Tower, but I can’t be sure.” Larkin took a deep breath and looked Carys square in the eye. “But I am sure she referred to him once as Elder and that he is on the Council.”
The Council that was running the Trials—the Trials that would end if one of the twin heirs to the throne won or ended up dead.
“She said her visions told her they would triumph. That the orb would crack and the winds would sweep in a new ruler to sit on the Throne of Light. Just as they planned.”
A new ruler. Did that mean Andreus, or someone completely new?
It had to be Garret. Or was it? He had wanted something when he talked to her today, but it felt as though he wanted something from her personally, not just the crown.
Carys’s head spun. Her legs tingled, spots appeared in front of her eyes, and she grabbed the stack of hay bales for support.
“Are you okay, Highness?” Larkin rushed forward to take her arm.
“I’m fine,” she said as the lightheadedness faded. “It’s you I’m worried about. You have to—”
They both jumped at the sound of footsteps in the stables. Carys’s heart hammered against her chest as the footsteps stopped near the ladder. Then whoever was below began to climb.
“Behind me,” Carys hissed, ignoring the weak trembling of her legs as she lifted her stiletto and prepared to throw.
“Should I be concerned that you’re making a habit out of aiming that at me, Highness?” Lord Errik asked as his head and shoulders appeared. Carys lowered the stiletto with relief. Before she could ask why he had abandoned his job as a distraction, he said, “We’ll have to talk about your penchant for sharp objects later because unless I’m mistaken, this lady is the clever seamstress the guard believes was part of today’s plot to assassinate the Prince.”
“What?” Larkin gasped as Carys said, “That’s ridiculous.”
“I would tend to agree, but the guard won’t find my point of view all that compelling. From what I could learn in my quest to play irritating nobleman, they have sealed the gates under orders from the Council of Elders and are searching every house in the city in order to find her.” Errik turned toward Larkin. “I fear, my lady, you have made an enemy who wishes to see you dead.”
Imogen. She must have seen Larkin in the courtyard or perhaps she simply learned of Carys’s secret friendship and was using Larkin against her. “You have to get out of the city.”
“How?” Larkin asked, panic clear on her face. “With the gates sealed, there’s no way out.”
And eventually the guards would search the stables. If they found her, Larkin’s time in the North Tower would last only long enough for the Council and Imogen to organize her execution. Larkin couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t leave the city. Carys only knew of one place Larkin could hide where the guard would not know to look.
She studied Errik and wished she knew more about him. He was handsome. Clever. Determined. And he pulled at her in ways she hadn’t expected or wanted to think about. But could he be trusted?
Her stomach clenched. Her legs felt weak again, and she put a hand on the hay to steady herself as she weighed her options and realized she had none. If she wanted to keep Larkin alive, she would have to trust Errik with another secret.
“You have to hide until they have called off the search, and I know a place where they won’t find you.”
Quickly, she told Larkin about the hidden room behind the tapestry and the passages in the plateau under the castle. “Errik will have to escort you there. If Lady Imogen and anyone on the Council are behind this, they will have people looking for me in the hope that I’m helping you.” Putting her in the North Tower as a coconspirator for the assassination against Andreus would certainly guarantee her brother gained the throne.
“There’s no way the guards are going to let me into the castle looking like this,” Larkin said.
Damn. Larkin was right. Her pulse pumped. “There has to be a way to get you in.”
“There is,” Errik said. “Where’s your ball gown, Highness?”
“In the basket below, but it won’t fit Larkin.”
“It doesn’t have to fit,” Errik said with a smile. “Go back to the castle, Highness. I pledge my word, I will see your friend safely hidden away.”
She had no choice. Carys took her terrified friend’s hand and said, “Do as Lord Errik bids. He’ll keep you safe until I can find a way out of this for you.”
“And my father, Your Highness?” Larkin asked. “What about him?”
Goodman Marcus. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Now that she had, a cold dread settled into the pit of her stomach. “He doesn’t have the same connection to me that you do, and he didn’t hear what you heard. He should be safe . . . for now.” They would throw him in the North Tower when they couldn’t find Larkin, but they wouldn’t kill him. Not if they could use him to draw his daughter out of hiding. But the image of the kindly, thin man with his warm voice and gentle hands in those cells pulled at her. She was a princess, a member of the royal family of Eden, and yet she couldn’t be more helpless to prevent his suffering.
Swallowing down the knot of tears, she said, “Worry about getting yourself to the hidden room first, and I’ll be thinking of ways to get you out of this. I promise.” Even though she couldn’t. Not now. Maybe not ever. And if she didn’t come up with a way to defeat the treachery in the castle, everyone she cared about would end up dead.
Carys turned quickly toward the ladder so Larkin wouldn’t see the frustration and tears flooding her. Errik followed close behind. When they reached the bottom, he handed her the other stiletto from the basket and took her arm before she could leave.
“I will help your friend into hiding, Highness,” he said. “But you must know she will never be safe. The Council and your seeress have branded her a traitor. They will continue the hunt for her for years if necessary in order to demonstrate what happens to those who defy the crown.”