My eyes must have been completely out of focus, and I’m uncertain for how long. “Lord Aaron,” I say in a whoosh of a sigh. “Take me for a turn about the room? I fear I’ve had more to drink than I realized.”
“Certainly.” Instead of offering me his arm, Lord Aaron places a firm hand at my waist, steadies the nearly empty flute of champagne in my hand, and steers me rather defensively through the milling crowd toward the balcony doors on the far end of the Hall of Mirrors.
It’s a small balcony, and I’m not sure coming here was a great idea, but Lord Aaron says something to the other two occupants sotto voce, and they drop quick bows and leave. Then Lord Aaron turns his back to the warm, overfilled hall and shields his hands as he pulls out a small wireless keypad and fiddles with it.
“That…should…do it!” he says, pocketing the keypad as the sliding double doors hiss shut and lock with a click. “M.A.R.I.E. will figure it out in about ten minutes, but—”
“Ten minutes is a godsend, Lord Aaron, thank you.”
“You don’t look well.”
I laugh. “You certainly know how to ingratiate yourself with a lady.”
“I know how to be honest with a friend.”
That sobers me, and I nod. “You’re right. Is it obvious?”
“Probably only to me.”
“Or Molli, if she were here.” I shouldn’t have said her name. Instantly I’m blinking back tears.
“Or Molli,” he whispers, raising his own glass, which has a splash of port in the bottom. “May she know how well she was loved.” He tings his glass against mine and we both take a sip. “Where’s Saber?” Lord Aaron asks, staring out at the cloudy evening sky.
“Arrested.”
“Arrested?” Lord Aaron asks, his voice far louder than mine, and I have to shush him. “For what?”
“Carrying an illicit substance.”
“Illicit? Not…” He gestures at the smear of Glittery rouge at the top of his own cheekbone. He’s probably shut off M.A.R.I.E.’s microphones as well as hacking the door closed, but we should keep our voices low anyway.
“Not precisely, no,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “But similar. The important part is that the charge might be legitimate.”
“Who spilled?” Lord Aaron asks.
“Who else? Lady Cyn.”
“Shall we ruin her?”
“I haven’t the time.” Though, sadly, this move of hers may mean I now have all the time in the world. His Majesty’s plan has derailed my own more thoroughly than he can possibly know. I suspect he thought himself clever, cutting off the room he assumed Saber and I were trysting in. But despite Lady Cyn’s malicious tip, I don’t think the King actually knows the true nature of the Glitter. With the patches in his security staff’s possession, it may only be a matter of time, but clearly what he’s concerned about is my running off with a paramour—not escaping via a fortune in dirty money.
Still, since the King has reinstated the monitoring in my father’s rooms, even if I had Saber to help me, I’ve no way to make more product. Nothing to sell. And still half a million shy. Besides which, the thought of leaving Saber is killing me.
“I’m short my fee,” I confess to Lord Aaron with a quavering voice.
“Your fee?”
“To the man in the catacombs. And without Saber, I can’t…make it up.”
Lord Aaron nods; then his eyes widen as he puts the pieces together. His jaw drops open and he stares at me for long seconds. “You’ve been…this—” He points at his cheek again, then straightens and laughs. “You’re brilliant.”
But I shake my head. “Not brilliant enough. Not brilliant at all, really. Just desperate. And not without”—I choke on the word and have to clear my throat—“without consequences,” I finish in a whisper.
“Oh, Dani,” Lord Aaron says, softly, but with a terrible edge of understanding. “What have—”
“Please do not ask me,” I interrupt, my voice so wobbly the words barely get out. “There are secrets so dangerous one shouldn’t even confess them to the dearest of friends.”
He hesitates, then whispers, “Like, perhaps, that one is in love with a newlywed nobleman whose father-in-law intends to use him to usurp the King?” Lord Aaron’s face is utterly devoid of amusement. “Only to be two days too late to save my dearest friend from a hellish marriage?”
So Lord Aaron knows. That means Sir Spencer knows.
“The King is aware,” I whisper.
“Of course he is. That’s why you’re getting married in two days.”
It’s to be all-out corporate warfare, then. “It’s possible my secrets are even worse,” I say with a tight smile.
“Worse than the usurpation of an entire kingdom?”
“No. Worse because if I say the words aloud they might collapse my soul, which already rivals the Tower of Pisa in its skew.”
“What can I do?” Lord Aaron asks after a very long silence.
“I don’t know. My safe place is…no longer safe. The cosmetics are in one place, and the…special ingredient in another, and I can’t get the two of them together. And I’ve only”—I glance through the glass doors to the enormous clock on the wall—“about thirty-six hours to think of something else.”
“Why think of something else when what you’re doing has been working?”