by Marisa Mills
“We’re returning home tomorrow,” Frederick replied. “I’ll send you news, Dorian.”
“Thank you,” Dorian said.
“Kit might have some,” Alexander said. “I’m sure he’d be delighted to accept any invitation you might offer.”
“Is Prince Christopher still here?” Eleanor asked.
“He was at the Academy today,” I said.
“Whatever for?” Eleanor asked.
“To apologize for my noble father’s most… egregious mistake,” Alexander said.
Sort of.
“Will your brother be taking up residence in the Academy for a while?” Eleanor asked.
“I think so,” Alexander replied. “Father is deeply concerned that we’ve been infiltrated by Aubade’s agents, and he’d mentioned the idea of having additional guards around the Academy.”
Eleanor pursed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. She looked as if she was plotting something. Maybe since Alexander wasn’t interested in Viviane, Eleanor’s next plan would be to match her with Kit. Until recently, Eleanor had raised Viviane as her own daughter, even though she thought she was actually her sister’s illegitimate child, abandoned in the Scraps. But Celeste told us the cribs had been exchanged when we were babies, and Eleanor had taken Viviane and left me, Guinevere’s real daughter, in the Scraps. But few people knew that, and I couldn’t imagine any of them telling. As far as most of Reverie knew, Viviane was the blue-blooded child of Frederick and Eleanor.
“That’s a good idea,” Frederick said. “I would feel safer with additional security around the Academy, especially considering how useless the Council has been in protecting us from these threats.”
Before I finished my soup, a servant took it away. I glanced around to see if anyone else looked affronted, but no one did. More food was brought, this time some sort of white meat I didn’t recognize. I glanced at Dorian to see which fork he’d grabbed.
It’s fish! I like fish, Lucian said. They always had such pretty colors, and the meat tore so nicely in my mouth. I would dive right off the cliffs and straight into the water. Often, I could catch a good fish by surprise and just rip it in half.
Lucian had described his home dimension to me once, as being along the cliffs of a massive ocean. I’d never seen an ocean before, but when Lucian described it, it sounded beautiful.
The conversation turned from there to palace security and different measures the aristocracy was taking to protect themselves. I listened along and asked a couple of questions, but the aristocracy was so vast that, despite living in Reverie for months, I still hadn’t heard of most of these people. Dorian stopped talking entirely. Instead, he sat silently running his finger along the rim of his wineglass. I remembered Francisca—or maybe Dorian—mentioning that his eye injury would make him sensitive to light, and the dining hall was bright. He probably had a headache. “Are you feeling all right, Uncle?” I asked.
I couldn’t decide if the strange flutter in my chest from calling him uncle was pleasant or not.
“Fine,” he replied, “although I do think I’ll retire. It’s late. Everyone is, of course, welcome to stay here for the night.”
Alexander stifled a yawn. “That’s very gracious of you,” he said. “Would you be so kind as to show me to my rooms?”
Dorian pushed out his chair and smiled. “Certainly.”
While everyone is asleep, why don’t we look around? Lucian asked. We could find Nick’s journal.
My father’s journal, the one explaining the demon-chamber and my mother’s charm. I’d stolen it from Professor Gareth for Dorian, and at the time, I hadn’t known Nicholas Armenia was my father or even involved with demons. I’d known only that he was some man who Dorian wanted to find. I never had time to read it, and now, I regretted that I hadn’t made time. What other clues were hiding in the pages? The chance to learn more about my real father was too great to pass up.
“Let’s do it,” I whispered, low so only Lucian would hear me.
***
I waited in my rooms for a half-hour before creeping downstairs. If Dorian had Nick’s journal anywhere, it was probably in his study. When I reached the familiar door, it was locked. I unsheathed my sword, prepared to cut my palm and draw Lucian’s sigil, the one that would let me pass through objects.
Wait, Lucian said.
I heard the tumblers of the lock click, and the door opened. My eyes widened in surprise, as Lucian had never shown me this trick before. I slipped into darkness, realizing when I heard voices that I wasn’t alone. Dorian perched at the edge of his desk, his sister sitting in a nearby chair, and I hadn’t seen them until I entered the room. I darted behind the bookshelf, my heart pounding as I waited to see if I’d been caught.
“Do you want to swap information? A rumor for a rumor?” Eleanor asked.
“Tempting,” Dorian replied. “What’s the subject?”
“Poison.”
Maybe they hadn’t noticed me. I stayed down and crept closer to them, below a row of stuff crows with gold-tipped beaks.
“Sounds delightful,” Dorian said.
“The queen has taken ill,” Eleanor said, “a fever, shivers, abdominal cramps. The royal family insists it’s merely the flu, but my spies say differently.”
“This is recent?”
“Shortly before Wynter’s whipping,” Eleanor replied. “Don’t worry, though. No one thinks you were involved.”
I’d seen the queen around that time, only for a few seconds, but she’d seemed fine, then.
“That is concerning,” Dorian said. “Francisca has reported an increased demand for nightshade and oleander on the market.”
“That could be for potions,” Eleanor said, “Couldn’t it? Or women’s eyedrops. Women using nightshade drops to make their eyes brighter is very in fashion right now. I myself have used some.”
“The nightshade, yes,” Dorian replied, “but not the oleander.”
“Hm. You know, Dorian,” Eleanor said, “there’s something I’ve been wondering, and as your sister, I think I’ve a right to know.”
“Yes?”
“Did Francisca poison our mother?”
Poison her? I thought Amelia died from falling down the stairs.
Apparently, not, Lucian said.
“She didn’t,” Dorian said.
“I’m surprised,” Eleanor replied. “If I’d been in Fran’s position, I’d have poisoned Mother.”
“That’s because you’re awful.”
“No, that’s because our mother deserved a cruel end. The first time Mother made my lover tie me to a bench and whip my feet with a switch, I’d have put oleander in her tea,” Eleanor said.
“When we were young, Mother bound us to that same bench and switched us just as harshly, and you never once tried to poison her.”
My stomach lurched. I remembered long nights curled up in bed, in too much pain to sleep from where Gabriel had beaten me. The scars on my arms ached and throbbed in time with my heartbeat. I imagined Dorian and Eleanor, much younger, and enduring the same abuse I had. My mouth tasted like vomit. People were awful, with magic or without.
Small wonder the nobleman and his sister are so dysfunctional, Lucian muttered.
“I’m not an assassin,” Eleanor said. “I wouldn’t have known where to begin with poisoning Mother. Still, I’m sure the servants appreciate their new, kinder master.”
I wondered if Dorian and Eleanor had spent their whole lives swearing not to be like their mother, and if that was why they were such strange creatures, always some contradictory mingling of harshness and kindness.
Don’t feel too sorry for them. That nobleman has consistently withheld crucial information and forced you into all these elaborate schemes to better his reputation, Lucian hissed. He literally bought you to steal for him.
But maybe Dorian didn’t know any better.
That doesn’t make what he’s done more acceptable, Luc
ian said.
“Based on her symptoms,” Dorian said, “Fran believes Mother was poisoned with water hemlock, which isn’t native to Reverie, but it’s common in the forests north of Plumba.”
“And near Aubade,” Eleanor said.
“Yes. Like the gemstones in the ballroom, if you’ll recall. Wasn’t there—a few months back—also rumors about James’ death being poison?”
I didn’t know who James was. Probably a nobleman.
“There was. It was suspected one of his mistresses did it,” Eleanor said.
“And there’s no way of knowing how many of us…” Dorian trailed off.
“You think Aubade is trying to pick us off?” Eleanor asked. “I can understand James. As Duke Northcutt, he owns most of Reverie’s iron mines, and the king is still trying to untangle who should inherit them. That could impede our war efforts, if we have an arms shortage. The queen would make sense; her death would be devastating. But Mother would make an odd choice of targets.”
“I don’t know,” Dorian said. “Considering our family’s store of magical weaponry, I could understand killing Mother if there might be some difficulty in determining who would inherit our weapons. But that was never going to happen. Mother had a legitimate heir. Perhaps, someone just wanted to see if they could kill her, assuming Mother was the real target.”
“Or perhaps, it was personal,” Eleanor said.
“Mother had few enemies, though,” Dorian said. “You, Gwen, and I were the exceptions. Everyone else adored her.”
“Not everyone,” Eleanor said. “Not Mother’s servants or our vassals in the Lower Realms. Not Nick.”
I drew in a sharp breath at the mention of my father’s name. “Even if Nick is—or was—still alive,” Dorian said, “I don’t think he’d have killed Mother. If I had to guess, I’d think someone wanted to kill Mother to prove our houses were vulnerable. That’s partly why I took such efforts to hide that it was poison.”
Someone poisoned her, so he threw her down the stairs!
I stifled a gasp with my fist. So Dorian had pushed her, but she was already dead.
“You’re right. People will panic if they realize even the queen is vulnerable,” Eleanor said.
“Or worse,” Dorian replied. “With as many enemies as our king has, rumors of noblemen and women being poisoned may embolden them. We’d be facing attacks by Aubade and our own countrymen.”
Did Alexander know that nobles were being poisoned? As a prince, he might be in grave danger, certainly more than a young countess.
“Did Celeste ever visit you?” Eleanor asked.
I wondered if Eleanor was thinking of how she and Celeste had once worked together, trying to help Viviane improve her magic. At least, Eleanor had thought that was the goal, until Celeste had revealed herself to be a spy for the neighboring kingdom of Aubade.
“I don’t think it was her,” Dorian said. “She never came to call on the estate, and if a mage as powerful as Celeste sneaked in, Fran would’ve sensed it. Of course, it’s possible Mother met Celeste elsewhere; Mother told me very little of what she did outside these walls.”
“I’ve never been so grateful to be a lowly baroness in my life.”
“You say that,” Dorian said, “but your house is closer to Aubade than any other place in the kingdom. If Aubade attempted to invade—”
“I know,” Eleanor replied, “which is why Frederick will be returning home to manage our affairs, and I’ll be staying with my dear brother.”
“Your dear brother hasn’t agreed to that,” Dorian said. I could almost hear the frown in his voice.
“Do you enjoy being contrary?” she asked. “We both know you’re going to agree. Besides, I ought to stay close, so I can get to know my new niece.”
“You nearly had your new niece exiled from Reverie,” Dorian said.
“If my brother had told me she was my niece, that wouldn’t have happened,” Eleanor argued. “Besides, you claimed you had no idea who Wynter was.”
“I brought her to Reverie believing she was a mage with breeding as good as my own,” Dorian replied. “At least that’s what I told the king.”
“As if that’s better! You betrayed her, Dorian.”
“I know. And I don’t regret that choice,” he said. “I still think the reward was worth the risks. I just…”
“Yes?”
“It’s just something Wynter said that I’ve been playing around in my head,” Dorian replied. “I’m hardly going to tell you. It would only offer you a new way to insult me.”
“As if I need any new ways. You’ve already so many faults. It’s a pity that Wynter isn’t just like you,” Eleanor said. “You’ve no idea how much I’d enjoy watching you try to rein in some wild girl, who gallivants around trying to seduce everything that moves.”
“I didn’t try to seduce everything that moved. Only the pretty things,” Dorian replied, “Until Francisca made an honest man of me.”
“Honest? That’s a joke,” Eleanor said.
“But if Wynter had been just like me, I’d have been congratulated her excellent taste,” Dorian said.
What a horrifying notion, Lucian muttered.
“Although, perhaps, I ought to check on her. Wynter has a penchant for sneaking around and doing things she shouldn’t,” Dorian said.
Now what? I couldn’t hope to run out the door now. As quietly as I could, I sliced my palm with my blade. Hot blood swelled from the cut.
“What sort of things?” Eleanor asked.
I dipped a finger into the blood and began drawing the familiar pattern on the wall behind me.
“Oh, nothing mean-spirited. Just a little mischief. She’s been stealing food from the Academy and dropping it to her family in Plumba since I brought her here.”
My breath caught in my throat. How long had he known about that?
“I keep waiting for some customs clerk to show up and fine me for not following proper procedure,” Dorian said.
“You’d better check, then,” Eleanor replied. “I’ve heard there’s a terrible count who lives on the Rosewood estate. It’s said he sold his soul to a demon in return for immortality.”
“Strange. I’ve heard the count is only so terrible because his harpy of a sister continually plagues him.”
I pushed my fingers against wetness on the wall, and they passed through the stone. I ran backwards and into the ballroom. I hesitated when I heard laughter from the dining room. Viviane and Alexander were playing chess by candlelight, but I didn’t have time to stall. I ran upstairs as fast as I could and slipped into my room. I climbed back into bed and threw the blankets over me. My heart pounded as I buried my face between my pillow and my arm, trying to look as though I was deeply asleep. Seconds later, the door creaked open.
Maybe you should pretend he woke you, Lucian whispered. You can make this really awkward for him.
Soft footfalls and the murmuring of fabric. Then, a long silence. I resisted the urge to shift and peek beneath my arm. A soft weight lighted on my head, and gentle fingers coaxed apart strands of my hair. Which of them was doing that?
Your nobleman, Lucian replied. Do you want me to bite him?
No, not at all. When I was a little girl, Claribel had stroked my hair like that, but that was so many years ago. I hadn’t realized how much I missed it.
“You’ll take care of her if something happens to me, right?” Dorian murmured.
“Do you plan on having something dreadful happen to you?” Eleanor asked.
The room was still and silent for a heartbeat too long. Dorian’s hand stilled.
“No,” he said. “Of course, not.”
Eleanor sighed, the sound like a whisper of wind. I lay still until I heard their retreating footsteps and for a while after, just to be sure they were gone. Then, slowly, I raised my head. I felt a cold shard of dread in my stomach. Somehow I knew that something terrible was about to happen, and whatever t
hat something was, Dorian knew about it.
He probably won’t tell you either, Lucian said.
No, he probably wouldn’t. He rarely did.
Three
“I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY LET her back in,” a hushed voice said as I rounded a corner in the lower halls. It felt like weeks since I’d attended lessons at the Academy, but it had only been a handful of days, and most of them over the weekend. I’d worn the most basic, standard skirt and top I could find along with the official school uniform, hoping to blend in and disappear among the crowded halls, but somehow I still felt as if everyone’s eyes were on me. I paused outside the door of Professor Gareth’s class, clutching my books against my chest, and took a deep breath to steady myself. But then I jerked alert as I heard whispers coming through the door. I leaned closer to the wood until I could feel vibrations against my cheek.
“I heard she stole something incriminating and is blackmailing the royal family.”
“Isn’t she a Rosewood though?”
“I doubt it,” another voice said. “There’s no way she could be a noble, if she grew up in the Lower Realms. Whatever, she’s always been weird.”
That last comment sounded like it came from Meg, a dark-haired girl who slept in the same dormitory as Viviane and me. Had she really always thought I was weird? I pushed the door open suddenly, and found her talking with two girls I didn’t know. I stalked past them, down the shallow steps on either side of the curved benches that filled Gareth’s auditorium, beneath the narrow, gothic windows streaming in sunlight. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon candles in tall black candelabras reminded me I’d skipped breakfast. At the front of the room, a wide oak desk stood in front of a chalkboard, and some students were lounging on the sofa and chairs arranged around the dark fireplace.
I pretended not to notice the whispers as I settled in the front row. Alexander and Viviane took their usual places near me. We’d walked back to the dorms earlier to change, but had separated for classes. Viviane looked over my chosen outfit with something akin to horror. Although uniforms were provided, most nobles used the school grounds as a public display of wealth and paraded around in expensive clothing. But almost every time I wore a dress, someone tried to kill me, and I could use a few days of relatively normalcy. Alexander was chewing his lip, looking worried and sitting stiffer than usual, but he kept his mouth shut. They must’ve heard the comments, too, and I was a little bitter they hadn’t stood up for me.
