The sound of muffled voices from within the fireplace jarred me awake. I was up and off the bed in a matter of moments. Something told me to enter the fireplace. I glanced at the desk and saw the open journal.
Looking down, I observed that I wore a nightgown and overcoat now—not the dress I’d worn earlier to the dungeon; that had been red. Red like the blood on Rochus’s face. Sadness overtook me but was quickly replaced with confusion. My hand stole to my hair. I fingered large ringlets spilling down my back. I’m still Sapphira. How did I get changed and where am I going? This must be a vision from Sapphira.
I shook my head and ran my hands along the mantle, surprised when the fireplace opened. The muffled voices grew louder.
Holding my breath as well as a candle, not certain what to steel myself against, but steeling myself nonetheless, I stepped into a dark tunnel full of flickering shadows.
I scurried instinctively along the passageway with an odd sense of familiarity of its twists and turns. Charles and I played in here our whole lives, said the voice in my head. Sapphira’s voice. Father used the secret room to meet gem merchants. I did my best to relax again as we followed the men to a secret room downstairs and I was shown how the jewel had come to be Sapphira’s.
Suddenly like a pro wrestler, I was slammed back into my body. Confused, my eyes roamed the Princess’ familiar bedroom. I was back.
I felt a draft as the door opened. My heart plummeted as Henri came in.
“Resting up for our wedding are you, my dear?” he said. “I trust you’ll want that to happen sooner rather than later.”
Revulsion over Henri and the morning trip to the dungeon returned. Still, marrying him was a one-way ticket to death for all of us.
“I’ll never marry you.”
He sneered at me, and I could see the wheels turning.
“You are consistent, I’ll give you that.”
“Consistent and smart,” I said, as I smiled as sweetly as possible, “You may have Maria but you don’t have Nico or the Prince and when they find out what you’ve done, you’ll pay. Now, I’m feeling peckish... err… hungry. Now, how about—”
His hand closed on my arm in an iron grip.
“There will be no dinner for you.”
“You can’t keep me captive forever.”
“Is that your thinking? Our wedding will take place shortly and, by God, you will be an obedient creature one way or another. You shall remain a prisoner in your room until you agree.” And with that he slammed the door behind him.
Why had I ever come back and allowed him to trap me?
I stared at the door. I hadn’t heard it lock. I waited two minutes, cursing the entire time.
Finally, I grasped the door handle. It turned silently.
Your wife. A prisoner in my room? I think not.
I moved as stealthily as possible down the hall and slowly peeked around the alcove. Two surly soldiers leaned against the wall, guarding the stairs. I turned on my heels and high-tailed it back to my still-empty chamber. Once the door was closed, I looked about for options. I spied the mantel where candles still burned. Sapphira had used the passageway behind the fireplace in the dream, and she had exited into the courtyard. Of course! Why hadn’t I thought of that before? I could get out.
Heart thumping, I pulled the diary and map from their sanctuary and looked for a button or lever along the mantle above the hearth. I couldn’t remember how to open the fireplace. I ran my hands along the bricks, picking up a candle before moving aside a china ornament. At last I found a stone that pushed in. With a loud dragging sound, the back wall shifted. I listened to see if the guards stirred—nothing but the sweet hammering of my heart. I crept into the dark space like a mouse who’d found its home, except my tiny paws could hold a candle. I stopped occasionally to light one of the wall torches in case mine went out, but mostly I kept to the shadows.
The tunnel twisted and turned like a water slide at an amusement park—perhaps less fun. Just past the two-way mirror, in the ballroom, I came to a spot with multiple tunnels. Pulse pounding, momentarily lost, I began to waver. Double-checking the map, I trudged on, choosing the passage on the left. A spider’s web clung to my face and I almost screamed as I rubbed it away. Holy shit! Who put Charlotte’s web there? The candle blew out as I flailed. Just my luck. These passageways were clearly a close-kept secret. Otherwise they would have been scrubbed and polished like the rest of the damn palace. Drafts whistled through the cracks, and I began to hear snatches of conversation coming from below. I knelt as if in prayer and applied my ear to a crack in the plank.
“Jean, is everything in place?”
I recognized Henri’s voice right away.
“Almost.”
“Our treaty states that once I marry and become Prince, you will be separated, officially.”
Voices were raised.
“Excellent. That will strengthen our position.” The man I assumed was Jean spoke, lively with anticipation.
“My understanding is that you, along with several members of the Carbonari, will rid me of Charles before the celebration tonight. See that I’m notified by messenger once it’s done so we may proceed with the wedding.”
This made my ears prick up. Prince Charles, Sapphira’s beloved brother who ruled over the Kingdom of Sardinia would be assassinated on his journey home. The celebration I presumed would now become my wedding and death sentence. But why would these political men help Henri gain power? I tried to remember everything I knew of the revolutionary secret society known as the Carbonari. I’d once helped a student write a paper on them. The name I remembered stood for charcoal burner and the similarity between them and the Freemasonry had been evident. I seemed to recall that they lacked a clear political agenda but basically if my memory was correct, they did not shy away from assassination or armed revolt. Yep, that lined up. Great! I stilled my pattering thoughts in case I missed something.
“Agreed. Tonight! It will be done before the feast. I will notify you myself.”
At least one party left the room at that point, and as I heard the door, I raised myself on stiff knees and scampered on. I came to a spiral stairway that led me down to what I assumed was the main floor of the castle. According to the map, the jewel room was at the end. I passed another stairway and wondered where it led to—underground? Halfway down the hall I noticed the torches set in the sconces were lit. Did Henri and his fellow plotters use these passages? Of course, they did. They were a secret society, obviously they would use a secret passage.
Just then I heard the echo of heeled shoes. There was an alcove. I’d most likely be discovered but I had to try. I backed up and hid behind the tapestry. The threads had worn through around the eyes and so I could just make out Alastríona’s shadowy form as she passed by, heading in the direction from which I’d come. And where exactly are you coming from Alastríona?
I waited a few minutes and when she didn’t return, resumed my exploration. I was now eager to figure out just what she was doing down here. The narrow tunnel ballooned into a cave, and the amber glow grew stronger. I rushed to a spot where I’d just seen a large beetle disappear. My creep factor went on high alert at the insect but I moved closer, recognizing the area from my dream. There was silence from the other side. I felt around for a lever, but before I could find it there was an uncomfortable shuffling of feet behind me.
A cold, wet hand clamped over my mouth, stifling my cry. I was caught. Thanks a lot intuition. Where were you on that one?
“Sapphira,” a voice whispered in my ear. “Shhhh. It’s me.”
I quit struggling, and he removed his hand. My arms automatically went around his neck.
“Conrad—oh, thank heavens. You wouldn’t believe what I just heard.”
Then I was struck with a lightbulb moment. Why is the Graf here, albeit wet and sexy looking?
How would he know about the secret passage unless he was also a member of the secret society? Or in league with Alastríona.
> I scrambled to turn, fell to one knee and picked myself up before I ran, stumbling, back the way I’d come.
Betrayal swelled in my chest, but I squashed the emotions. I needed to find a way out.
TWENTY-TWO
I could smell his musty cologne of fire and woodchips closing in on me, and I willed myself to run faster. He grabbed my wrist, and I let out a small scream.
“Sapphira, calm down.” He gripped my arm, pulling me tight. “Why are you running from me?”
“How did you know about the passageway?” I stuttered, pulling away.
He looked straight at me, and I knew he saw the fear in my eyes. As if reading my thoughts, he loosened his grip and apologized.
“I didn’t know! I was worried waiting around, doing nothing while you took all the risks, and so I came looking for you.”
I looked him over slowly, observing the hollows under his eyes and the stubble that grazed his cheeks.
“When I arrived at my cousins after returning you here, I heard Henri had been scouring the town for you. He’d been seen with Giuseppe and Jean Trenca—known members of the Carbonari. That bothered me, so this morning I went to find your friend Rochus, but his neighbor said he was arrested more than a week ago. I knew something was wrong. I headed to the palace where Lisabetta recognized me on the main road. She told me you and your mother were locked away, warned me about the soldiers and told me how to get in, avoiding the main gate. I had to wait two hours for a shift change.”
“You’re wet.”
“I know,” he said, letting go. “I was lurking in the bushes, hiding from Henri’s men. I was trying to find the staircase Lisabetta told me of. One of the men was practically on top of me when I noticed an opening underneath the mote. I figured I could squeeze through it, so I took a risk and slipped into the water.”
That did seem plausible. I relaxed and began feeling the stones along the wall.
“What are you doing?” Conrad asked.
“Help me find the stone with the lever. I think there’s a secret room in here. We can light the fireplace, and you can finish your story and warm up.”
“There’s a secret room?” said Conrad.
“The castle is full of them.”
“So, it seems,” Conrad agreed.
I continued feeling for the lever as I’d seen Sapphira’s brother do in my vision. Finally, I found something and pulled. The wall retracted with a dragging sound. Smiling at my luck, I stepped into a dark room full of shadows.
With a name like the royal treasure trove, I expected to be dazzled by the bright sheen of gold, but pitch black loomed. Going on memory, I fumbled until I found a lantern.
The room smelled of dust. Of course, there were no windows because we were underground.
“It’s so damp,” I said, wandering around the room with the lantern to light the other candles.
Conrad took the hint and headed straight for the fireplace, narrowly missing a case that sat in the center of the room.
“There is furniture down here. How did you know about this place?” asked Conrad, lighting the fire.
“Sapphira’s diary had a map. I also dreamed about this place this afternoon. I think Alastríona’s been in here.” My eyes widened as the light from flames began to permeate the corners of the room. The space was grand. “These must be original Gobelin’s. I saw one of these once in the Louvre in Paris,” I said, fingering the tapestries that adorned the walls. “It’s difficult to imagine how craftsmen weaved the thin threads into such detailed pictures.”
“Never mind that. Come here and warm me up,” Conrad said, removing his wet shirt. I glanced around the room and grabbed one of the blankets off the chair to wrap him in.
“It’s dusty, but it’ll do the trick.” I walked toward him, enjoying the view of his rippling abs. “Anyway, tell me about how you got in once you were under the moat.”
“The steps in the water led up into a cave. I climbed out and followed the hallway. I came to what I thought was the end, but when I leaned against the wall, a door pushed open.” He grabbed my arms and pulled me into his chest. “I was so worried about you.”
“I was worried about you as well,” I said, thinking of that dear, sweet alchemist. I decided this wasn’t the time to tell him. Conrad lifted my chin in his hands, his fiery green eyes narrowing as he kissed my lips.
“Conrad, wait, I need to tell you something.” I could feel him trembling, and I wrapped myself tighter around him, despite the dampness of his pants.
“You know how you mentioned the Carbonari?”
“Ja.”
“Well, I overheard their plan to kill Charles tonight.”
“Tonight? But he’s not here.”
“He’s on his way home, supposedly for a feast. They’ve baited him. His camp’s an hour’s ride from here. I heard them studying maps. The Prince must have a spy within his men. The Carbonari plan to assassinate him.”
“Why would they do that?” Conrad said, knitting his eyebrows together.
“You mean besides the fact that they’re deranged psychos. I don’t know. That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.”
“Why would a political group trying to achieve Italian unification want to see Henri in power?” He paused a moment. “Unless Charles opposes them and is getting in the way?”
“Holy shit,” I said, thinking of history I’d read. “That’s right! The Prince fought to keep Menton and Roquebrune—despite their protests to be free.”
“Henri has made them a deal then. If they get rid of the Prince and place him in power, he’ll do their bidding.”
“Bingo. And unfortunately, for me…,” I paused. “Or rather Sapphira, the only way to put him in power is marriage to the Princess—me.”
“Otherwise sovereignty over the Grimaldi realm would revert to France,” Conrad said, finishing my thought.
“I need to stop them,” I said, breaking away from Conrad. I headed to the center of the room, as if an invisible string tugged at me. “But first I have to find the sapphire. If Alastríona knows of it then she could use it,” I whispered, lifting the velvet drape. A glass case sat beneath, showcasing extravagant baubles.
“Conrad, look at this! This puts a whole new spin on the term family jewels, doesn’t it?”
Conrad looked at me curiously. I was pretty sure the poor guy missed half of the things I said.
I was starting to missed home a little. As much as I liked Conrad, we spoke two different languages—literally as well as metaphorically.
“Look at the size of that one,” Conrad said, pointing.
“I don’t see the sapphire.” I pulled the leather diary from my pocket, where I had stashed it before leaving the room.
“I don’t get it. Why aren’t they here? Maybe Alastríona already got it?”
Conrad looked up at me. “Maybe she was fetching it to pay off the Carbonari,” Conrad said, shifting his weight.
I nodded. “I wonder if they want to go back and change something.” I thumbed through the diary.
“If the Comte is already going to murder your brother and be made Prince when he marries you, what does he need to change?”
“Good question. Things change quickly in politics. Alliances shift. The worm at the bottom can be on top the next day,” I commented, continuing my search through the little book.
“Perhaps there’s something about the political agenda that they need to go back and change.”
“Perhaps. But Italy gets united, so they win.”
Conrad looked at me strangely.
“Sorry. Is it odd for me to tell you these things?”
“It’s fine. Italy gets united.” He repeated the words as if getting used to the idea.
I paused to contemplate. “Hmmm, maybe they don’t think they’re going to.”
“From your explanations of travel, could this be how they won?”
“Maybe, but it makes my brain hurt just to consider that. The strange part is, there was no men
tion of the Comte de Chalais in any of the history books.”
“What are you looking for?” Conrad asked.
“A clue, I guess. Ah, here it is: a drawing. But I really don’t understand what it is.” I passed the book to Conrad. He studied it, turning pages and flipping it around in all directions.
“There’s an outline on this page.” He paused to show me, and I recognized the sketch I’d seen earlier.
“I couldn’t make out what it was.”
“There’s another two pages later, similarly angled. It almost looks like—” His voice dropped off when he folded the pages so they came together to form a picture.
Conrad handed it back to me, looking smug.
“It’s a drawing of the glass.”
“It looks like there should be a button underneath the lip,” he said, fingering the casing.
I joined in, running my hands along the bottom.
“I found it.” I pressed, feeling like a combination of Sherlock Holmes and Velma from Scooby Doo. The case of the missing Sapphire with special guest Sophia Marcil.
The case began to shift, and I blinked back to reality. A second tier rose out of the middle, revealing the sapphire gemstone.
“No. Conrad, don’t touch it,” I said aloud, just in time to stop Conrad from reaching for it.
“What? Why?”
“I don’t know. It’s just something a psychic… err…I don’t know what you would call her. A fortune teller maybe, anyway, it’s something she said to me in my own time.”
I shivered as we stood there gazing at the jewel. I looked down at my hand and remembered that Henri had stolen my own ring. “Do you have a cloth or a hankie?”
Sure enough, Conrad pulled one from his pocket. I used it to pick the sapphire up and then I dropped it into my pocket still wrapped. I couldn’t chance traveling back to my own time until I righted things here.
I looked up. “Is your shirt dry? We should get going.”
He crossed to the blazing hearth.
“It is dry enough.” He pulled the shirt on and buttoned it up. “What shall we do next?”
Cursed be the Crown (Cruel Fortunes Book 1) Page 14
