He shook his head again. “We both know it’s not safe for you to stay here. I saw your gargoyle pendant and the matching crest in your dagger. I know that you . . . work for the Ripleys.”
Leonidas stumbled over the last few words, as though my family’s name was difficult for him to say. Perhaps it was, given all the misery that Maeven and the Bastard Brigade had inflicted on my family. I wondered if Leonidas remembered how much pain he had inflicted on me when we had met as children. Probably not.
I shoved away my petty feelings about the past and focused on what was important right now. “Who else saw my pendant and dagger? Who else have you told about me?”
“No one,” he replied. “I took off your pendant and removed your dagger before I let the bone masters heal you, and I only put them back in your chambers when I was sure no one would disturb you. No one here has any reason to think you are anyone other than Lady Armina from Ravensrock.”
I eyed him, but he once again seemed sincere. “Good. Then I can pretend to be Lady Armina, nose around, and see what I can find out about Milo and the missing tearstone. You said it yourself that your brother has people watching you. Perhaps they won’t pay as much attention to me.”
“Your idea is madness—utter madness,” Leonidas snapped. “If Milo finds out who you are, he will torture and kill you. Immediately. And if my mother finds out . . .” His voice trailed off. “Well, it will be worse than anything Milo can dream up.”
Memories of the massacre flickered through my mind. He was probably right about that.
“Just . . . go home, Armina.”
His calling me Armina instead of my real name grated like sandpaper on my already raw nerves. He was ordering me about, and he didn’t even have the bloody courtesy to recognize or remember me. I knew it was a ridiculous sentiment, and that I was far safer this way, but it still angered and frustrated me, especially since I’d never been able to forget him, no matter how hard I had tried.
And I had fucking tried—for years.
“I am not yours to command,” I replied in an icy tone.
“Please.” Leonidas ground out the word, as though saying it pained him even more than uttering the Ripley name. “Please go home. Before it’s too late.”
“No. You can either help me or stay out of my way. Your choice.”
His eyes narrowed. “I am not yours to command either.”
“At last, something we both agree on.”
Leonidas glared at me, then dropped his head and leaned a little more heavily against the liladorn vine that had twined around the column, as though he needed the support of both the sturdy plant and the stone underneath. A weary sigh escaped his lips, but he lifted his head and raised his gaze to mine again.
“I’ve been trying to uncover Milo’s plot for weeks. All my spies mysteriously vanished for several days before their bodies turned up in various parts of Majesta. They all had one thing in common—they had been tortured before they died.” He kept staring at me. “I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”
Once again, his concern seemed genuine, but I pushed it aside.
“I can easily pass for a noble, if that’s what you’re worried about. After all, nobles rarely do any real work, and their main occupations are complaining, scheming, and making other people’s lives difficult.”
“You are certainly making mine difficult,” Leonidas grumbled.
I ignored his complaint and considered the rest of my Lady Armina persona. “Being a jeweler is no big stretch for me either, and metalstone magic is easy to fake, especially for a mind magier. All I’ll have to do is wave my hand and move some rocks around.”
I was already quite familiar with such a charade. Throughout Andvari and the other kingdoms, Princess Gemma Ripley was known as a metalstone master with a moderate amount of magic. Only my family and a few trusted friends knew that I was really a mind magier.
And Leonidas, of course. He had seen how dangerous I was, even if he didn’t seem to bloody remember it.
“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” he muttered.
I grinned. “I do try.”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, you might be pleased with your scheme, but Milo is sure to be suspicious of anyone I come into contact with, especially a mysterious noble lady no one has ever heard of before that I supposedly rescued from bandits. I’ve read fairy tales that weren’t so ridiculously dramatic.”
I arched an eyebrow. “And yet, that’s the story you conjured. Does Prince Leonidas have a deep-seated wish to play the part of the dashing hero?”
He barked out a bitter laugh. “I am no one’s bloody hero. But I wouldn’t have had to come up with such a ridiculous story if you had just stayed in your room. I was going to smuggle you out of the palace without anyone important realizing you had even been here.”
Yet again, he seemed sincere. Leonidas had gone to a lot of trouble to save me from the mine, bring me here, and have me healed. Those gestures warmed my heart, but I couldn’t forget how he had betrayed me in the past—and could do so again at any moment.
“Well, since I’ve already ruined your plans, then you might as well go along with mine,” I said in a cheery tone. “We both want the same thing, and we have a far better chance of finding out what Milo is plotting by working together, rather than trampling over each other like we’ve been doing so far.”
“What, exactly, are you proposing?” he asked, his voice wary.
“A partnership,” I replied. “Milo might be suspicious of me, but he will still focus his attention on you. So you keep your brother and his spies occupied, and I will roam around the palace, pick up gossip, and find out what Milo plans to do with the stolen tearstone.”
If I was anywhere else but Myrkvior, I would have taken my chances spying on my own. But this was Leonidas’s home, not mine, and it would be far better to align myself with the prince, especially since he could blow my Lady Armina cover at any moment. Also, if I kept him close, then perhaps I could anticipate any moves he might make against me—and escape another dangerous betrayal.
“And then what?” Leonidas asked.
“And then I’ll leave.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’ll leave Myrkvior once you uncover Milo’s plot? Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“And what about . . . the Ripleys?” Once again, he stumbled over my family’s name.
I shrugged. “The Ripleys wanted me to find out who was stealing their tearstone. I already did that, and Conley should be rotting in jail even as we speak. But the Ripleys probably think I ran off, instead of being waylaid by you. Returning with information about what Milo is plotting will help smooth things over with the Ripleys.”
I might be twisting the truth around to suit my own purposes, but I wasn’t lying about everything. Learning about Milo’s plans for the tearstone would go a long way toward appeasing my father and grandfather, who were sure to be livid about the danger I was putting myself in.
Thinking about my family prompted me to toss the bag of coins back at Leonidas. “Keep your money. Give me a Cardea mirror instead. A small handheld one will do.”
His eyes narrowed again. “Why do you want a Cardea mirror?”
“So I can contact my employers and tell them what I’m doing. That way, if my body does show up in some alley, then they’ll at least know why I was killed.”
Once again, my words weren’t all lies. I did want to let my family know what had happened to me—and especially that Milo was targeting Andvari.
Leonidas hesitated. Uncertainty creased his face, along with a faint flicker of worry.
“No mirror, no deal,” I said.
His features iced over, and he stepped forward, looming over me. In an instant, he had morphed back into the same dark, deadly shadow knight he’d been in the mine. A prince that you either obeyed or suffered his wrath. “I don’t have to agree to your demands or your deal. I can summon some guards to have you forcibly removed fr
om the palace right now.”
Worry snaked through my stomach, but I gave him a nonchalant shrug. “Then I’ll just find some way to slip back into the palace.”
Frustration filled his face. “You are going to get yourself killed.”
He was probably right about that, although I would never admit it.
“I am not yours to command,” I repeated, my voice even colder than before. “My life is my own, and this is the gamble that I choose to make with it.”
Leonidas glared at me, fury sparking in his eyes. I glared right back at him. The prince’s fingers twitched, as though he wanted to throttle me, just as I wanted to throttle him right now.
“You want to be partners? Very well,” he snapped. “If I give you a Cardea mirror and help you skulk about the palace, then you will leave Myrkvior the moment we figure out what Milo is planning to do with the tearstone. That is my demand.”
I hesitated. Despite all my tough talk, I still had serious misgivings about this scheme. Being in Blauberg had been dangerous enough, but now I was in the Mortan capital, in the heart of the royal palace, literally surrounded by enemies on all sides. If anyone were to even suspect that I was Gemma Ripley, then I would be imprisoned and tortured—at the very least. As much as I despised the Morricones, I had to admit they were exceedingly sly and clever. All it would take to doom myself was one wrong look, one false word, one small slip of the tongue.
Still, I would never have a better opportunity to prove myself as a spy—and as a future queen. Everleigh Blair and Zariza Rubin had defended their kingdoms from the Morricones, and I wanted to do the same, just as my father, grandfather, Armina Ripley, and all my other ancestors had done before me. People might think I was Glitzma, a ditzy, dumb, pampered princess, but I wanted to show everyone I was more than that, that I was strong enough to protect them. This would be my chance to prove that to everyone.
Perhaps this would also convince my father and grandfather that I could take care of myself and that I wasn’t the scared, battered, broken girl who’d returned from the Seven Spire massacre and hadn’t been able to leave her room for days at a time.
Perhaps it would finally convince me of that too.
Either way, it was simply too good an opportunity to pass up. If Milo Morricone was stockpiling tearstone for an attack on Andvari, then I needed to know exactly what he was plotting. Plus, skulking around the palace would also give me a chance to spy on the Mortan nobles, as well as the queen. Maybe I could also gather enough intelligence to thwart whatever schemes Maeven might be hatching.
Leonidas held his hand out to me. “Are we agreed?”
I was already behind enemy lines. I might as well make the most of it. So I stepped forward and took his hand. “Agreed.”
I started to let go, but his fingers tightened around mine, and something flared in his eyes, something even hotter and more intense than his previous fury, although I couldn’t quite put a name to it. Anticipation, maybe. Or maybe an expectation, although of what, I couldn’t imagine. Either way, his steady gaze made another ribbon of heat unspool in my stomach.
Leonidas released my hand. “Very well. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He spun around and stalked away, his black cloak swirling around his body. I let out the breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding and followed him, wondering just how big of a mistake I was truly making.
Chapter Fourteen
Now that our deal had been struck, Leonidas led me off the balcony and back to his library. He rummaged around in his desk for a minute, then straightened up and slipped something into his pocket.
He gestured at me, and I followed him out of the library and back to the chambers I had woken up in this morning. Servants had made the bed and set out trays of sweet cakes, fresh fruit, and other treats, along with chilled carafes of water, juices, and teas. A fire had also been lit, adding some cozy warmth to the area.
Leonidas tilted his head to the side, as if reaching out with his magic and making sure no one was hiding nearby. When he was satisfied, he dug into his pocket, drew out a small silver compact, and held it out to me. Liladorn vines and thorns were embossed in the metal, and the compact looked like it might contain almond powder to take the shine off a noble’s nose.
“What’s this?” I asked, taking the compact.
“A Cardea mirror.”
Surprise shot through me. “You just happened to have a Cardea mirror tucked away in your desk?”
“If you don’t want it . . .”
My fingers curled around the compact, and I pulled it back out of his reach. Another one of those smug, infuriating smirks stretched across his face. My fingers tightened around the disk, and I had the childish urge to throw it back at him. But that would have been foolish, so I dropped my hand to my side instead.
Leonidas’s smirk widened, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. “The compact contains a mirror, along with a compass. You can use the mirror two ways. Just open the cover and speak a name, and the mirror will show you that person, no matter where they are, although you won’t be able to talk to them.”
“And the second way?”
He gestured over at the vanity-table mirror. “Open the compact and set it against the base of any mirror, and it will turn that larger glass into a true Cardea mirror, one that will let you see and speak to other people through their own Cardea mirrors.”
My fingers curled a little tighter around the compact. A very useful tool.
“I would contact your people now. Delmira will summon you to her chambers soon, and she will probably have racks of dresses for you to try on.” His tone was dry, and I couldn’t tell if he was pleased by his sister’s impending generosity or warning me about it. Perhaps both.
“And what will you be doing?”
His features hardened into that cold, familiar mask. “Trying to figure out what Milo has been up to while I’ve been gone.”
Once again, I was struck by just how much Leonidas resembled Maeven, and I had to hold back a shudder.
“Delmira will escort you to the dinner,” Leonidas continued. “It begins with a social hour. If you are still determined to go through with your scheme, perhaps you can nose around then and see if you can pick up any gossip about Milo. Even the smallest whisper could be useful in figuring out where he’s hiding the tearstone.”
Picking up gossip was something I excelled at, both as a princess and as a spy. “Very well. Until tonight.”
“Until tonight.”
His eyes locked with mine, and more of that unwanted heat spiraled through my stomach. I shifted on my feet, suddenly uncomfortable, and a faint swish of fabric caught my ear. I was still wearing the purple riding coat, the one that smelled of his heady honeysuckle scent.
“Here. You should take this back.”
I started to unbutton the coat, but Leonidas shook his head.
“Keep it. The palace can be quite chilly.”
We stared at each other for a heartbeat longer, then Leonidas gave me a deep, formal bow, as though I truly were a noble lady that he fancied, and not the unwanted spy that he’d foolishly brought into his palace. He straightened up, spun around, and left the chambers. He waved his hand, and the doors closed behind him.
I waited, expecting to hear the telltale click of the lock sliding home, but it never sounded. I reached out with my magic, but Leonidas’s presence grew dim and faint, then vanished. He had gone to another part of the palace.
I was surprised he hadn’t locked me in the chambers. Then again, I supposed there was no point, since I had escaped earlier. Or perhaps it was a more subtle ploy, and he thought that leaving the doors open would make me trust him. Or perhaps he knew the same hard truth I did—that a couple of locked doors weren’t nearly enough to protect me from the danger waiting around every corner here.
* * *
As much as it pained me, I took Leonidas’s advice, sat down at the vanity table, and opened the compact. A compass was nestled
in one side of the silver, with a mirror embedded in the other side. The compass was just a compass, but magic poured off the mirror in steady waves. It truly was a Cardea mirror.
Some of the tight knots of tension in my stomach loosened. I still didn’t—couldn’t—trust Leonidas, but he had kept his word. About this, at least.
I reached out with my magic, but I didn’t sense anyone loitering outside my chambers. Since there were no spies around, I placed the compact on the table, making sure the side with the mirror touched the bottom of the much larger vanity-table mirror. Many Cardea mirrors were one large sheet of glass that was enchanted, and then split in two, so that the person with one half of the mirror could talk to the person with the other half. But Leonidas had said the compact would let me talk to anyone with a Cardea mirror.
Time to find out.
I closed my eyes and pictured Topacia in my mind. Her dark brown hair, the freckles dotting her nose, her cheery smile. Then I opened my eyes, leaned forward, and spoke to the compact. “Show me Topacia.”
As soon as I said her name, the compact started glowing with a bright silvery light, and waves of magic rippled out of the small round mirror and traveled up into the larger rectangular one atop the vanity table. The glass there rocked violently, as though my command was a stone that had been dropped into the mirror and upset its naturally smooth surface.
A few seconds later, the intense light in the compact mirror faded to a softer glow, the ripples of magic stopped, and the surface of the vanity-table mirror grew still again. Now, instead of my own reflection, I was staring into the cottage in Blauberg.
Topacia always insisted that we travel with a Cardea mirror so that we could contact my father if needed, and she had set up the freestanding mirror in the corner of the living room. It was the same mirror I had used to check my miner’s disguise the day this whole adventure had started.
“Topacia?” I called out. “Are you there?”
Silence. Several seconds ticked by. She must not be in the cottage—
Capture the Crown Page 17
