by Donna Hosie
“And have positions been granted to you?” asked the queen.
She clearly didn’t know what was going on in her own court. This was something we could use to our advantage.
“Not as yet, Your Grace,” I replied. “We are servants to the king.”
“And Cromwell, no doubt,” muttered the queen. One of her ladies smirked and looked the other way. Down the corridor, an approaching servant girl spotted Her Majesty and disappeared into a nearby room. To avoid any royal abuse, no doubt.
“You’re very quiet, Charles,” the queen said. “Has the cat got your tongue?”
“Traveling does not agree with me, Your Grace,” replied my brother, looking more like Grinch with every passing second.
Would the poison have triggered something in the radiation toxins? I tried to recall the pharmacology Tenet.
We of The 48 will utilize the Imperative of pharmacology in order to save an Asset partner if necessary. However, discretion is permissible. One’s own life, in the name of mission success, outweighs that of a partner.
No. Dammit. I needed a radiation-specific Tenet. What was written about radiation and pharmaceuticals?
I realized that the queen was staring at us both like we were imbeciles. “I am looking for wit and merriment today,” she said spitefully. “Not witless wonders. You will visit me when you have recovered.”
She glided away, her three ladies following her in lockstep.
Charlie swore and pushed his back against the wall. Sweat was starting to bud around his top lip and in his hairline.
“She terrifies me more than the king,” he whispered. “There’s something about her eyes. They’re so black. They’re almost alien.”
Anne was a divisive figure in history: hated by the Catholics who saw her as the destroyer of the faith in England, but pitied by historians who saw her as a woman who was simply too strong-willed for a misogynistic king.
She had been Queen of England for three years. It was easy—too easy—to look at the peripheral details in an assignment dossier when it was written down in black and white.
Anne Boleyn was only thirty-five years old. History wouldn’t record her as reaching thirty-six.
* * *
—
“You look like death, Charlie,” I said. “Go back to the room. I’ll make excuses at breakfast if anyone asks.”
“Thank you,” replied my brother. “I’ll find you as soon as I’m feeling a bit better.”
“And don’t eat any grapes,” I called after him.
He looked around to make sure we were alone, and then, most uncharacteristically, gave me the finger.
I smiled, taking one split second to push the thought out of my mind that someone had tried to kill my brother.
Or were those grapes meant for me? The sons of Cleves were already marked men.
It took me ages to find my room. And I couldn’t get the queen out of my head. I didn’t understand why, but there was something so alive about her. It was disorienting. I hadn’t felt this with Henry, but perhaps that was because I knew that Anne was only weeks away from dying.
When I finally reached our apartments, I was pleased to see a tin bath already waiting, filled with water that was so hot, swirls of steam were dancing around the room. I didn’t know at first who had ordered it, but then I noticed the other thing waiting for me.
Alice was sitting on my bed.
“What the—”
“Shhh,” replied Alice, putting her fingers to her lips.
“What are you doing here?” I cried. “If Aramis finds you—”
“Are you going to tell him?” asked Alice, launching herself off the bed. She pushed a dark wooden seat, curved like an upended letter C, in front of the door. One of the spindles blocked the latch perfectly.
“No, of course not,” I replied. “But Aramis has a habit of walking into this room unannounced.”
“I’ve blocked the door, and Aramis was walking toward the armory the last time I saw him,” said Alice. “I won’t be found unless I want to be, and I don’t want to be. So keep your voice down. Now, I understand you were almost poisoned last night, and you didn’t have time to have a bath this morning, which is why I ordered some squires to prepare you one. Need help scrubbing your back?”
“What…how…have you been following us? Knowing that Aramis is after you? Alice, you’re insane.”
“And you stink. Seriously, you need a bath, Charlie. I’ll turn my back if you want.”
Grabbing Alice was out of the question, but that didn’t stop the rising urge to shake her by the shoulders to wake her up. What was she doing? She was taking a huge risk being in this room, where Aramis could walk in at any second.
“I’m serious, Alice.” I gently took hold of her hand. Her fingers immediately linked with mine. They were long and slim. Her skin was much warmer than it had been the day before. I took that as a good sign that she was recovering from the effects of chloroform and time travel.
“I know you’re being serious,” said Alice. “You always are. But I can’t sit back and play servant girl and wait for whatever comes next. I need to figure out what’s going on. And I wanted to see you. To—to see if you’ve learned anything.”
“Nothing. I don’t have any ideas about anything, Alice, except that Grinch going rogue just isn’t Grinch. And Aramis attempting to assassinate a trainee Asset is just as mad. If it were Piermont, then I would understand, because he treats The 48 like a military camp—”
“It is military, Charlie,” said Alice quietly. I noticed then that she had changed her clothes from the ones Alex had found her—she was now wearing a simple dark gray cotton dress, and her corkscrew curls were tied back beneath a white cotton headdress. Her face was serious.
She was so pretty.
“Your water’s getting cold,” she said, pointing to the tub. “You need to get in, especially if you’re taking the king on at archery after dinner. You want to be presentable.”
“How did you know that? Even I didn’t know that.”
Alice tapped the side of her freckled nose. “I’m quite the spy.”
I didn’t want her to leave, but she wasn’t safe with me. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Alice to take care of herself. I did. I just didn’t trust myself to be able to complete the assignment if I was constantly worrying about where she was. The faster we handled our mission, the faster I could focus on helping her. If she wanted my help.
I didn’t own Alice.
“Have you seen Queen Anne?” I asked as she removed the chair from the door.
“I just saw you turn into a gibbering idiot in front of Queen Anne,” replied Alice a little caustically. “Does that count?”
“And just how in the hell do you know that?”
“Chance, actually. I was on my way here and I nearly ran into you all along the way. So I ducked into an antechamber and waited out your wreck of a conversation.”
“I wasn’t a gibbering idiot. I was poisoned last night and I feel like crap. I thought I was going to throw up out there.”
“Yes. As I said, I’m aware you were poisoned.”
“Who told you?”
“I heard Lady Margaret in the chapel this morning,” said Alice. “She was talking to herself. Confession, I think.”
“She saved my life. She knew about charcoal absorbing poison.”
“I don’t trust her,” said Alice.
“You don’t even know her.”
“She’s a living, breathing member of the court of Henry the Eighth,” said Alice. “You shouldn’t trust her or anyone here. I certainly won’t until I work out why I’m here.”
“You’re probably right.”
“You need to keep an eye on her. And the queen. And the rest of her ladies.”
The idea hit me like a ton of bricks.
> “You do it.”
“Do what?”
“Spy for me.”
“On what?” asked Alice.
“The queen.”
“Spy on the queen?” asked Alice, turning to face me. She looked intrigued.
“I don’t know how I’ll arrange this, but what if you were to go and act as a servant to the queen? She doesn’t trust her ladies. You could keep an eye on all of them and tell me what they’re talking about. Jane Seymour is one of them. You would be able to get into places I couldn’t.”
“What about Aramis?”
“He might burst into my bedroom, but even he wouldn’t accost the queen. You’d be safer near her than anywhere else in this palace while you’re trying to figure out why you were brought here.”
“Arrange it, and I’ll do it,” said Alice, nudging me with her arm. “Maybe it’s fate that I’m here.”
“There’s no such thing as fate. And you should know that a hell of a lot has gone down since we left Toronto, not just your arrival here. When we were in Paris, Alex and I saw Willem being dragged into an unmarked van. Katie, too. In the middle of the afternoon, in public.”
“What? Did they hurt her?”
“I didn’t see much, although from what I did see, The 48 weren’t being gentle.”
“How old is Willem?”
“Old enough to be decommissioned permanently,” I replied. “But it’s always covert, right? I’ve never heard of an aging Asset being taken away in broad daylight—and especially not their partner as well.”
Alice nodded thoughtfully. Then she opened the door. “I’ll be back later,” she whispered, peeking out.
“Alice,” I called.
“What?”
“Did you take a radiation pill before you traveled here with Grinch?”
Alice didn’t miss a beat. “I have no idea, Charlie,” she replied. “I guess we’ll find out when my countdown gets to zero. If I absorbed the full dose of radiation, then I’ll be pulled forward through the cosmic string, and I had just better be standing in front of a painting that checks all the right boxes when I do.” She smiled. “And if I don’t, well, then, I guess I’m stuck here for good if there’s no one to take me back with them.”
“Alex and I will take you back before you reach zero.”
“If you’re successful—and still alive,” she replied.
Then she slipped silently back into the corridor.
* * *
—
Alice was right about the bathwater. By the time I had removed my clothes and slipped into the tub, it was no longer swirling with steam. It was tepid at best. A thin, oily film had settled on top and gave it a rainbow sheen. A bar of rough yellow soap that didn’t lather had been left for my use, along with strips of cloth that I assumed were towels. I washed my hair with the soap and dried myself in front of the fire. I didn’t feel any cleaner.
Two servants came in as I was standing butt naked by the flames; they didn’t bat an eye. Then a third servant came into my room and started pulling clothes from a dresser. I spent the next few minutes being manipulated like a doll until I was fully outfitted in clothes that smelled vaguely of sandalwood. The process afforded me time to think. About Alice, about Alex, and about Anne.
The three As.
“I see you’ve finally had a bath.” The familiar voice made the hair on my arms stand on end. “What were you thinking, allowing yourself to be taken ill in front of the queen? Sickness is a sign of weakness, Charles. Especially in a court where news of affliction strikes fear in His Majesty.”
The fourth A had arrived.
“Where’s my brother, Father?” I asked, glancing around the room to make sure Alice hadn’t left anything.
“He’s walking around the grounds with a couple of the yeomen.”
“But it’s pouring outside.”
“Alexander didn’t seem to mind,” replied Aramis, settling into a chair and dismissing the servants. “I’ve shown him the armory and given him a guide to Henry’s favorite haunts around the palace. There are more secret passageways here than in The 48.”
“I didn’t realize there were any at The 48.”
Aramis ignored me. “It’s time for you to step up your game. What happened last night was unfortunate, but you must not allow it to cloud your thoughts. You have an assignment. Get it done. Remember not to be too sycophantic with the king. And one of you boys needs to get in with Cromwell. He’s a powerful ally. Do it soon. I’ll only be here another day.”
“You’re going back? Why? What happened to supervising us? And what about your little manhunt for Alice Tanner?”
“Have you seen her?” Aramis asked dryly.
“No. Have you?”
I wasn’t stupid, but neither was Aramis. We looked at each other for a long moment before he spoke. “Certain developments require me to set the issue of Alice Tanner aside for the moment. I’m needed back in the present.”
“I see.”
“No, Charles, you most certainly do not.” He straightened the ruby rings on his fingers and got to his feet. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”
After he left, I grabbed a fur-lined gilet and slipped it on, securing it with a thick brown belt. It was incredibly warm. A ceremonial knife had been left for me on the dresser, and that went into the boots I had brought with me.
I was furious with Aramis, but he was right about one thing: I had to start being proactive. It was time for another audience with the queen.
This time, I would be coherent.
* * *
—
It took a while to track her down, but I eventually managed it when I was nearly mowed down by two of her giggling maids of honor who’d been running hand in hand along a corridor. Looking contrite, they showed me to a drawing room that overlooked the gardens.
I went in and found Queen Anne staring out of a window. “Your Majesty,” I said, feigning surprise at meeting her. “I did not realize this room was occupied.”
She didn’t turn.
“What is the weather like in Cleves?” she asked. “I have never been there.”
I took a few tentative steps forward, impressed that she recognized my voice. “The weather in Cleves is much the same as it is here, Your Grace,” I replied. “Cold in winter, warm in summer. And rain on the days in between.”
“I do not believe anywhere on God’s earth could have so much rain as this place,” said Anne. “There are times when I wish…”
“You were back in France?”
Anne turned around; her black eyes flashed. “My place is with my husband,” she said haughtily.
“Forgive me, Your Grace,” I said, bowing. “I did not mean to imply that you wished to be anywhere other than here.”
“I simply wish for the sun.”
“Then I will wish it for you,” I said.
“I wish for many things,” said Anne. “They are rarely granted.”
That was the opening I needed.
“Could—could I ask a wish of you, Your Grace? If it is not too bold a request?”
Anne’s face remained impassive. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. I was an Asset. I had to be bold when the occasion demanded. Alex would just ask.
“There is a young woman in the palace, Your Grace. She came with us from Cleves and is extremely able. Tending to the whims of my father isn’t pleasant work, if you understand my meaning. I have taken pity on her. If you should require a serving maid—”
“What I require is for my ladies-in-waiting to know their place,” said Anne under her breath. “Every last one of the Catholic’s simpering courtiers should have been sent to Kimbolton with her. She wore a hair shirt, you know. Penance for her crimes as a liar.”
Catherine of Aragon had died a few months earlier. Despite Anne’s derision
, Catherine had been very popular and had ruled for twenty-four years. There were rumors that Henry and Anne had poisoned her, but in fact it was The 48 who had hastened her demise as part of the Religion Eradication operation. An assignment that had taken just twelve days. Her daughter, Mary, would be next.
“The Spanish witch is dead, and yet I am still not free of her treacherous whispers,” continued the queen.
I didn’t reply because I didn’t want to interrupt her train of thought. Patience was a virtue I had in spades. If she felt she could unburden herself to me, then I would gain her confidence.
“A serving maid, you say?” she said eventually.
“Very hardworking. Loyal. Discreet.”
I whispered the last word, leaning in slightly toward Anne. She turned her head toward mine and I saw her nostrils flare slightly, as if she were sniffing me out.
“Bring her to my rooms, Charles of Cleves. After dinner. I would like you to regale me with news of the outcome of your archery games with my husband.”
Another one who knew I was playing archery with the king, even though no one had actually told me, since I’d missed breakfast.
It was almost as if I were being set up for a fall.
I could have you arrested for speaking to me,” I whispered. “You dare—”
“Of course I dare,” he whispered back. “I love you, Margaret. Yet you will no longer even look me in the eye. It is tearing at my very being.”
He had accosted me in the rose gardens. A rare occasion when I was alone. I was becoming reckless, and for a moment that realization had chilled my heart. I knew better. I had seen the bruises that appeared on some of the younger ladies of the court after they had been foolish enough to travel without a companion. Men of this court could do what they liked, when they liked.
And I was no better than any of them now, slipping away like this. But I needed to think. And I could hardly think in the anxiety-ridden din of Queen Anne’s apartments.
