by Dawn Cook
My eyes dropped to my torn and ripped fingernails. Thirteen days of grime couldn’t be washed out. “Then that’s where I’m going,” I said, gripping the sides of the tub and standing.
“Tess!” Heather wailed, rushing to a towel. “You can’t go out. I haven’t had time to find a proper dress for you!”
The rough towel smelled of lavender, and I breathed the clean scent in, relishing it. “I can wear one of yours,” I said, then hesitated. “If you’ll loan me one?” I asked in a small voice.
“I—I’ve nothing good enough for you,” she said, taking a panicked-looking step back.
I waited until her frightened eyes met my gaze. “I’m not the princess,” I said evenly, finding no pain in the statement for the first time. “I’m a beggar’s child.” Heather took a breath to protest, and I frowned, halting her words. “I’d rather not put either of my old dresses back on until I’ve a chance to wash them,” I said, finding it ironic Heather would be the first person I begged from. “Do you have anything that might fit me?”
Heather’s eyes filled. Her hand went to her mouth. Hunching into herself, she ran from the room. She didn’t shut the door, and I heard her shoes whisper on the wooden floor. A door slammed, then nothing.
“That went well,” I said to the walls. Dripping everywhere, I reached to shut the door, hoping she’d bring a dress back with her. I toweled off, giving my black eye a close, unhappy scrutiny in the flecked mirror. My red curls were ghastly, and I arranged them, still damp, atop my head in a topknot. Thadd had brought up my things before he had left to return the horses. Duncan had gone with him, saying he’d stay ten steps behind in case there was trouble. Kavenlow’s small bag with the venom looked dirty and out of place, tossed aside against the wall. Beside it was my coiled whip. I felt just like them, worn, tired, and abandoned.
I glanced at the shut door before I dug through the bag for more darts. Testing the potency of each with the flat of my tongue, I added a veritable plethora of deadly ornamentation. I was setting Kavenlow’s three metal darts in place when Heather’s hesitant knock startled me.
“Come in,” I said, tightening the towel around me as the door creaked open.
“I think this one will fit you,” she said. Even with her head lowered, I could see by her splotchy cheeks that she’d been crying. My heart went out to her.
“Your yellow one!” I said, forcing a cheery tone. “I always liked that one. Thank you.”
Silent, she miserably helped me into the clean undergarments she had brought with her. I remembered the last time she had worn this dress: a picnic in the garden last spring. It hung rather loose in front no matter how tight she tied the bodice, and I grimaced at my slight figure.
Heather sniffed, and I had caught her twice wiping her eyes. “The overskirt needs a dunk in fresh dye,” she said as she adjusted the lace around the collar. “And the trim has frayed around the underskirt hem. I had to put a new cord in the bodice, so they don’t match—”
“It’s the nicest thing I’ve had on all week,” I said, giving her a quick hug. “Thank you.”
“But, Tess, it’s one of mine,” she wailed as her composure broke. Standing miserably before me, she started to cry. Her shoulders shook, and her hands helplessly gripped her elbows. “Don’t let her take your place,” she sobbed. “She can’t be nicer than you, or prettier.”
I gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Heather? Heather!” I exclaimed, forcing her to pay attention. “It’s going to be all right,” I said, quieter, as her red-rimmed eyes flicked to mine. “She’s nice—in a backwards sort of way.” That was putting it mildly. “You’ll like her. I promise.”
Heather hiccupped. Encouraged, I wrangled the corner of my hem up and dried her tears. “I told her about you. She’s going to need so much help. You’ll have to give her advice and tell her which of the guards will let her walk in the garden in the moonlight and which ones won’t. You’re going to teach her to dance, and make cut-out snowflakes, and how to plan a dinner. Heather?” I squeezed her shoulder until she looked up. “She’s going to need you.”
“But what about you?” Heather warbled.
From somewhere inside of me I managed a smile. “I’ll be all right. Kavenlow thinks she will take me as one of her advisors, and she’s asked me to help her learn how to act properly, which she desperately needs. But she’s going to need a friend, too.”
“I’m your friend,” she said, dropping her gaze.
My chest hurt, and hot tears filled my eyes in that she hadn’t shunned me after learning the truth. “You’re my friend, too,” I said, giving her a hug. “Give her a chance?”
Heather took a breath as if readying herself for a chore. A familiar tightness came into her expression. “If she tries to push me around, she’ll be sorry.”
Her voice had its more familiar bossy tone, and I smiled thinly, thinking Heather could do more than I to put an uppity princess in her place and tame a ferocious temper. An unhappy staff made for miserable living, and an arrogant, overbearing royal usually caught on quickly when dinners were served cold and fires were neglected.
“I’m sure she will be nice to you. She was raised in a nunnery,” I hedged as I put on my boots. Heather had oiled them, and they looked almost presentable, peeping past the yellow hem. My whip was next, and Heather watched with wide eyes as I coiled it about my waist, hiding it and the handle beneath a scarf. I tucked one of Jeck’s throwing knives behind the impromptu belt at the small of my back. Her brow pinched in worry at the weapons, and I shifted my shoulders in a sheepish appology. The thump of a downstairs door shifted the air.
“We’re back!” Duncan shouted, his voice muffled.
“Oh, good.” Heather spun to the door, clearly ready for a distraction. “The men are here. Let’s get downstairs before they eat everything I left out. You need to eat, too, before we leave for the square. Why you wanted to return those horses was beyond me. We could have ridden in style. Now we have to take the cart so we don’t get crushed.”
I preceded Heather down the stairs, and she started in on one of her prattling commentaries about the dangers of the street, bringing up past calamities and near misses that crowds just seemed to attract like wasps to an orchard. I relaxed in the sound of her voice, making the expected ums at the appropriate places as she led the way to the dining room.
As promised, a cold supper had been laid out. My stomach rumbled, and I remembered how long it had been since I had eaten real food instead of whatever Duncan dug out from the bottom of his pack. Thadd and Duncan were already filling their plates. The squatting sculptor looked up as I entered, then hastily got to his feet, his eyes wide. I warmed, thinking I must look better than I thought. Thadd kicked the leg of Duncan’s chair, and he glanced up.
“Oh, hey. I like the red hair, Tess,” he said, stuffing a piece of meat into himself. “Good disguise. Move the potatoes over here, will you, Thadd?”
My glimmer of self-worth vanished; Thadd’s gaping stare was due to my hair, not my clean dress. Thadd awkwardly held a chair for me and then Heather. Duncan piled more than his share of cold potatoes on his plate. “Does anyone else want these?” he asked.
No one spoke a word, so I raised my eyebrows and said, “Go ahead.” He fell to with a grunt of satisfaction. Rubbing my forehead, I gestured for Heather to fill her plate as well. Hesitant and unsure, she reached for a bowl. We had eaten together before, but never at a table. Her habits with me were going to be hard to break, and I didn’t think she would ever see me as anything other than her fallen princess, unjustly robbed of her throne.
“Thank you for taking the horses back,” I said, and Duncan paused in his chewing.
“Mmmm,” he grunted around a full mouth. “We left them in the yard.” He smirked as he wiped a smear of grease from two days of stubble. “We were three streets away when the stableman found them. You’d think an angel had left a bag of gold on his doorstep.”
“An angel did,” Heather said primly, and
Duncan made a scoffing bark of laughter. His eyes were on his plate, so he missed her murderous look. I thought I would have to watch them both. Heather was likely going to kill him or marry him.
Indignant, she stood with a scraping of her chair. Thadd hastily got to his feet. Duncan did not. “I’m going to harness the pony,” she said. “Prin—” She bit her lip. “Tess would like to take some air this evening and listen to the palace announcement.”
“Take some air,” Duncan mocked, and Heather’s eyes narrowed.
Thadd put his napkin on his chair. “I’ll help you, ma’am,” he said, his slow drawl seeming deeper in the close confines of the room.
“Thank you.” Heather raised her chin, her cheeks flushed. “I would appreciate some assistance from a gentleman.” Heels thumping, she stalked out with Thadd a pace behind. My shoulders shifted in a sigh. Heather needed a husband—badly.
The meat was cut thin and ran with its own juice. It was just as well Heather wasn’t here since I ate with little regard to manners. Stretching halfway across the table, I wondered if there might be something to this commoner birth if I was allowed to jam as many sweet roll tarts in my mouth as I wanted.
“So-o-o-o,” Duncan drawled, leaning back in his chair. “What’s your plan?”
I put my elbows on the table, enjoying that no one frowned at me. “I want to hear Garrett’s announcement before I decide anything.”
His eyebrows rose, and he looked at me as if I was insane. “Angel’s Spit, I knew it. You’ve been soaking in a bucket of hot water for over an hour, and you still don’t have a plan?”
“I have a plan.” I kept my eyes firmly on my travel-torn nails as I peeled a green fruit, but I could feel his disbelief clear across the table. “I’m going to get into the palace, kill Garrett, and free Kavenlow and Contessa.” I hesitated. “Not necessarily in that order.”
“That’s it?” he said. “Chu, Tess. If you want ideas, I have them.”
I took a bite of the fruit, only to nearly spit it out when I found it to be exceptionally tart. Swallowing, I looked for the honeypot, not finding it. “I told you, I want to hear what Garrett says first. Or we could do what Thadd wants and storm the front gate and die with swords stuck in us after three steps. But I’ve seen that,” I said, feeling cold. “I’d rather avoid it if I can.”
Duncan scowled, his hair flat where his hat had been all afternoon. “You aren’t getting me in there without a plan on how to get out.”
“You aren’t going in anyway,” I said, setting the fruit aside on the rim of my plate.
His jaw clenched. “Like hell I’m not!”
There was a clatter of small hooves in the street, and I guessed Thadd and Heather were ready for us. A thrill of excitement went through me when Heather burst in through the front door. She went directly to a trunk against the wall in the hallway, rummaging in it to pull out two shawls and a yellow hat to match my dress. “Leave everything on the table,” she said as she clattered into the dinning hall. “Here, Tess. I have a wrap for you. It’s going to be cold. People are in the streets already. If we don’t leave now, we won’t get close enough to hear.”
“Right,” I said around my full mouth as I got to my feet and brushed off my front. Chu pits, I had gotten it dirty already. But at least I had stockings again.
“Thadd?” Duncan said as the squat man anxiously hovered in the archway. “You owe me a copper. She doesn’t have a plan.”
An indignant sound escaped me, and I spun. “I just told you I can’t make a decent plan until I know what Garrett is doing!”
I waved Heather away as she tried to put her best shawl over my shoulders. Dodging me with a grace born from long practice, she darted close and fastened it about me with a decorative pin. I glanced at the mirror over the hearth and touched my topknot. My black eye looked atrocious, and I’d grown thin. But excitement made my movements quick as I checked my darts. It was akin to the feeling that I had when I was finishing a game, moving my pieces to where my opponent had no choice but to lose. It was addictive, the feeling. I wondered if I should dart myself to heighten my abilities, then decided against it.
Duncan came to stand behind me as I primped in the mirror. The room had grown dark as we hadn’t bothered with lighting any candles. “I’m going in with you, Tess,” he breathed, low and threatening. “You can’t stop me.”
A flush of angst went through me. My thoughts returned to him shouting at me this afternoon, pinning me to the tree with only his voice. I met his eyes through the mirror. His stubbled jawline was tight with determination; shadows made him ominous. My heart thumped.
Thadd shifted from foot to foot in the doorway, his big hands clasped tight. “We all want to help, Tess. Tell us what we should do,” he said slowly.
It was the first time he had used my name, and I hadn’t realized until now how much his distrust had bothered me. I turned to face them with a sick feeling. I couldn’t ask them to risk their lives. What if something happened to them? “I’m going in by myself,” I said, and Duncan made an exasperated noise and half turned away. “I’ll free Kavenlow and the palace guards. Unless Garrett moved them, they’re in the cells under the guards’ quarters. While they retake the palace, I’ll find Contessa and keep her safe until it’s over. If Garrett interferes, I’ll kill him.”
Heather gasped, a trembling hand to her mouth.
“That’s not a plan.” Duncan’s shoulders were hunched, and his face was cross. “That’s a vague idea. You go in there with nothing more than that, and you won’t be coming out. And what about us? You can’t do all that by yourself.”
I cringed inside, certain he knew I was trying to keep him out of the way. “I need a distraction so I can sneak in over the walls,” I said.
“A distraction!” Duncan’s vehemence shocked me. “I’m no one’s distraction, Princess. Not for you. Not for anyone! Not again.”
I warmed as my anger grew. “There’s nothing wrong with being a distraction. I was one for twenty years!”
“Yeah?” Duncan stood with his feet spread, solidly planted on the wooden floor. “You need us,” he said, pointing at me with a stiff finger. “And for more than the time it will take for you to get over the walls!”
He was shouting at me, and flustered, I turned back to the mirror, pinching my cheeks to try to hide how pale I was. My knees were weak, and my stomach was in knots. “I need you to stay in the streets,” I said to my reflection. “Stir up some Misdev-dog sentiment. Raise a fuss at the gates. Something to keep Garrett’s thoughts off me. If the gates open, everyone leaves.”
Heather’s eyes were pinched as she came forward with a wide-brimmed hat. “What about me?” she said. Her chin was trembling, and the fear was so thick in her blue eyes I wanted give her a hug and tell her it was going to be all right. “I know the palace as well as you do. What should I do?”
I couldn’t send her behind the walls. I couldn’t send any of them. “Can you talk to the people?” I said hesitantly as I took her hands. They were trembling and cold. “I can’t bear the thought they might believe I ran away.”
She nodded. “I’ll tell them,” she said, clearly glad she wouldn’t be storming the palace.
“Damn it, Tess,” Duncan said as he crossed his arms. “You’re going to need our help. Thadd and I will drive the cart in with the statue. He has a commission paper. What are they going to do? Call him a liar? You can hide in the box instead of trying to climb that wall, and once we’re free of the guards, we’ll get you out.”
Bile rose, and I swallowed it down. The box looked like a coffin. “No.”
“You’re afraid of a box?” Duncan mocked. “A strong, tall woman like you is afraid of being in a box?”
I stiffened, affronted. When I had been in the wilds, it had been easy to remember I wasn’t the princess, but here, in the capital with clean clothes and Heather fussing over me, it was harder. Fingers trembling, I ran them over the blunt ends of my darts in my topknot. “Jeck knows abou
t the statue,” I said, fighting Heather’s flustered attempts to put a hat on my head. “I’d be a fool to get in it.”
Duncan snorted, earning a dark look from Heather. “You’re afraid,” he taunted. “But you go right ahead and climb that wall. Thadd and I will take the wagon in and wait for you.”
“No.” I pulled my shawl tight. Heather took the opportunity and covered my damp hair with that ugly yellow hat. But it hid my face, so I took it off for a moment to shift a few darts to my sleeve and tuck my dart pipe into my waistband beside the knife. The thought of being in that box made me shudder. “I’m surprised they didn’t stop us at the city gate with that wagon,” I said. “If you try to get in the palace with Thadd’s statue, you’ll end up in chains.”
Duncan’s face went empty, and for the first time, he seemed to hesitate.
“What’s the matter?” Heather said with a sniff. “Big strong man afraid of a little iron?”
“No.”
“Don’t think your plan is going to work?” she mocked, and he reddened.
“Heather,” I said, thinking Duncan had earned the right to be afraid of iron around his ankles. “Leave him alone. It’s a bad plan, anyway.”
Duncan regained some of his bluster. “It’s a sound plan,” he insisted. “Once we’re all inside, Thadd can get the guards from their cells, and I’ll help you protect Contessa.”
Thadd cleared his throat and shifted uneasily from foot to foot. “I’m going to rescue Contessa, not you,” he said, his voice thick with determination.
I made a small noise of disbelief. It was the same conversation that we had had this morning, all over again. I was in charge. Why the chu pits didn’t they understand that?
“You?” Duncan glanced at Thadd. “You wouldn’t hurt a fly, Thadd. And there might be swordplay.”
I stared between them, appalled. As if either one of them had been in battle before. “Listen to me!” I all but shouted in frustration. “Garrett isn’t playing a game. He will kill you! None of you are going!”
Duncan shifted into quick motion. He strode toward me, his face tight. Startled, I backpedaled. Thadd grabbed Heather’s arm, keeping her from flying at Duncan as he all but pinned me to the wall. “I am not letting you go in there alone,” Duncan said, the width of my hat between us. His breath stirred the wisps of hair floating about my face. I felt the heat from him through my thin dress as he came close, bullying me.
