With that Therese turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving Andreus to sigh at the sway of her hips and his miscalculation. Most of the girls in the castle were happy to do his bidding. Clearly, Therese was different. He admired her even as he cursed her for ensuring that now he’d have to go deal with his mother.
He turned the corner and in the distance spotted Chief Elder Cestrum. The white-haired advisor put his iron claw on Elder Ulrich’s arm as they talked in front of the entrance to the Council’s chamber. Quickly, Andreus turned, put up the hood of his cloak, and veered down the hall to the left. He was more than willing to take the long route in order to avoid the Chief Elder.
While Andreus was grateful to Elder Cestrum for convincing his father to allow Andreus to work with the Masters of Light, Andreus wasn’t stupid. Nothing the Council did was out of the goodness of their hearts.
Maybe if things were different he would be like the others in court, brokering favor and pitting people against one another to gain power. But his secret needed to stay just that. So he’d tried to let people know how little his father cared about the youngest royal son—and they’d believed him. It was the only explanation they understood for why a prince was always working among commoners with their rusty tools.
Carys did play the game—mainly for him—so she could distract people from looking too closely or asking questions he couldn’t answer. Ever since the Council had helped him with his request to work with the Masters, she’d been worried that the Chief Elder might start asking for favors. Andreus was hoping Carys was wrong. Being caught between his father and the Council sounded more than a little uncomfortable.
Determined not to run into anyone else he didn’t want to speak with, Andreus ducked into one of the back hallways used only by servants. Footmen and maids bowed and curtsied as he hurried through the torchlit areas of the castle where power was no longer provided. His father believed that during a time of war there was no benefit in using the wind resources to illuminate areas most lords and ladies never would think to tread.
“Prince Andreus.”
Andreus cringed. Then smiled when he recognized the small boy coming down the hall, carrying a vase of winter jasmine. “Max! How are you feeling?”
“I’m well, Your Highness.” The boy skipped and almost dropped the vase. When he righted himself, he gave Andreus a gap-toothed grin. “The remedy Madame Jillian made me fixed my breathing. It tastes bad, but she says I gotta keep taking it.”
“Listen to Madame Jillian,” Andreus counseled.
The woman was waspish, but when it came to healing she knew what she was doing and she never failed to come running when Andreus had her summoned. She was also discreet, which was equally valuable.
“Oh, I will, Prince Andreus. I need to grow up strong if I’m going to be a Master of Light like you.” Before Andreus could correct him about his status as Master, Max was off again. “Did the test you was doing go all right, then? I wanted to come up and see for m’self, but Lady Yasmie had me running lots of chores. It wasn’t till she asked me to fetch these flowers that I got to look out a window at the city. The lights are on. Bright as the sun! That means it worked, right?”
The boy gulped air and Andreus laughed. “Yes. It worked. If it keeps working, the Masters of Light will change the entire system. With any luck, this winter there will be no part of the city wall that stays dark when it’s night.”
Max sighed and kicked his newly made boot against the ground. “I wish I coulda seen it today, Prince Andreus.”
“How about I take you up to the battlements so you can see it for yourself?”
“Really? That would be—” His face fell as he looked down at the vase in his hands. “I gotta get these flowers to Lady Yasmie now or my backside’ll get tarred.”
“Let me know when Lady Yasmie and her friends give you a moment to yourself.” Andreus snapped off a stem of tiny yellow flowers and said, “And tell her that Prince Andreus said the flowers pale in beauty in comparison to her.”
Max frowned. “Do girls really like when you say that kind of silly stuff?”
He thought of the way he and Lady Yasmie had spent the day in her rooms a few weeks ago. “Yes, Max. They really do. Now hurry off and keep the sass to a minimum. I don’t want you to get thrown out of the castle just after I got you in.”
“Don’t worry, Your Highness.” And with a half bow, the kid bolted down the hall, almost barreling into two very young servants as they rounded the corner. Whatever Max said to them had one of the girls blushing. Andreus laughed. A quick study, then. Good. Max would need his wits if he was going to make a go of it in the castle. The boy glanced back toward Andreus, gave him a jaunty salute, and hurried off.
Hard to believe Max had been lying in the dirt, barely breathing, just a few short weeks ago. Andreus had spotted him when he was riding back from inspecting the wiring on the city’s outer walls. The child was almost blue under all the grime by the time Madame Jillian got her hands on him.
Despite her care, and his obvious cure, his family didn’t want him back. They believed devils were possessing him every time he struggled for air. If they could believe such a thing, Andreus had thundered, then they didn’t deserve him. Breathing condition or no, Max would serve in the castle as a page. When he was old enough he could act as Andreus’s squire. He would make sure the child had a place—just like his mother and sister made sure Andreus retained his, despite his own secret. It was the just thing to do.
By the time Andreus had climbed the narrow servants’ staircase to the third floor and reached the double doors of his parents’ solar, he was out of breath. He leaned against the wall for several minutes and waited for the tightness in his chest to dissipate. When it did, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and made sure his cloak was arranged to hide the worst of the grease stains marring his white shirt. Then he knocked. Less than ten seconds later, Oben, his mother’s longtime chamberlain, opened the dark wooden doors and Andreus stepped into the room that he and Carys had spent much of their childhood avoiding.
The rug on the floor had been replaced at least a dozen times since those years, his mother always searching for the perfect style. This one was yellow. Blue velvet-covered chairs he didn’t remember being here on his last visit as well as several lounges were scattered throughout the room. When his father was out of the castle, as he was today, the seats were almost always filled with women knitting or doing needlework. Mother liked to monitor the gossip circulating through the palace and use the best bits as she saw fit. Now, however, the only people in the room were his mother, Oben, and two of the Queen’s attendants pouring tea.