Aisling was seated across from the prince, who was deep in conversation with a nearby guest. To her immediate right was Erik, the king’s advisor.
She leaned in and spoke in a low voice. “Who are the other nobles?”
He began to tell her about their names, titles, and roles within the king’s inner circle. Halfway through the process, he stopped.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Does anyone know why you’re here?” asked Erik.
“I’m not sure. Why do you ask?”
“There are a few people who seem interested in our conversation. One of them is an advisor from the Realm of Ice.”
“What?
“The Marquis of Rancid. He used to serve the King of Floe, but defected last year. King Chauncey felt he could be useful.”
Aisling shook her head. “But if the King of Floe and his brother are enemies of the state, then why work with someone who has such close connections with them?”
“I don’t know. The king must feel he’s useful in some way.”
Aisling made eye contact with the marquis, who stared at her without reserve. She studied the men on the other side of the table, then turned to her dinner companion.
“Erik, who is the gentleman sitting next to the marquis?”
“He’s another advisor, called Irsen. His role is similar to mine, but he has a higher rank.”
“What does he do for Chauncey?”
“He handles the treasury. Any transactions relating to money, taxes, and debt—they all go through him.”
She leaned closer to Erik. “Do you trust him?”
Erik smiled as if she had told him a humorous story, to confuse any onlookers. “No. As the king’s power decreases, his fortunes seem to increase.”
“What about his relationship with the marquis?”
“How did you know?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Oh, I thought you understood. They’re cousins.”
Aisling’s mind raced as she thought about the new information. A former advisor of King Floe was now seated at the table at Penge. It defied logic. And now, his cousin managed the treasury. If there were previous connections with Floe, it stood to reason that a link existed between these advisors and Floe’s brother, the King of Gardari.
Aisling peered across the table for a closer look, and paled.
Irsen was one of the men in her last vision.
The guests congregated in the drawing room after dinner. The crowd was energized, as they sipped their drinks and chatted with the other guests. Palace staff bustled about the chamber, carrying trays of champagne and cordials.
Aisling mingled with the crowd. Erik was her guide, introducing her to several advisors in King Chauncey’s inner circle. She eyed the two cousins from across the room.
“Princess, do you want to meet them?” asked Erik, as he nodded in their direction.
“Not yet, Erik. Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather be discreet, and seem disinterested in their activities. It will allow me to observe them from afar awhile longer.”
“Let me know when the time is right.”
Aisling scanned the room for King Chauncey. He was seated in a chair, surrounded by people, but wasn’t engaged in conversation.
A few minutes later, Advisor Irsen made his way across the room. He sat next to the king, and Aisling could see a sudden shift in the sovereign’s demeanor. He was frowning, and appeared agitated. The chatter in the room began to subside, as Chauncey’s voice grew louder. After several minutes of heated dialogue, the king retreated.
After the exchange, Aisling noticed that Irsen made eye contact with the Marquis of Rancid. Soon thereafter, they, too, left the party.
The guests resumed their animated chatter, until the outer door to the balcony flung open. King Chauncey walked around the mezzanine, closer to his guests below.
“I have something to say.”
There was a sudden silence. The king began pacing along the gallery, becoming more agitated as he looked at the crowd. “I will not be countermanded,” he shouted. He turned toward the exit and then walked back, pointing and waving his arms. “I know what you want.” His face was red and he clutched the railing and leaned over the side, until his upper body was parallel to the floor.
There was a gasp from the crowd.
“Dare to defy me.” He turned away from the gathering and continued to yell, until he reached the exit door. “You will pay a price for your treachery,” said the king, as he rushed past the startled servants and barreled through the door.
It was a full minute before the guests recovered from collective shock. There was a flurry of activity as they fled the chamber and hurried to the waiting carriages.
Back in her suite of palace rooms, Aisling consulted her dagger. Since her last vision, she had many unanswered questions.
“I command to know why you think King Chauncey is an enemy of Penge.”
The force of vitality sprung from the blade as mist swirled around its hilt. Aisling clung to the instrument as it flashed a series of images in rapid succession.
She reared back in surprise.
The sovereign had bartered his wand.
In the sequence of events that flashed before her eyes, it appeared he had given the device to the King of Floe, in exchange for concessions. It looked like Floe had bragged about his newfound object, and the pirates were intrigued. They then stole the item and had it transported. Visions of Melaka surfaced. Aisling was stunned. Her second wand had, at one time, belonged to King Chauncey.
There were two more revelations.
The king was deferring decisions to others, diminishing his own authority. That must be why he was cited as an enemy of Penge during her last vision, Aisling concluded. Somehow, he was letting others control the kingdom.
The third insight was the most disturbing. Someone would soon try and steal her sword.
Here, at the palace.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MASQUERADE
The prince was still asleep when Aisling returned to the bedroom. She sighed, and glanced out the window. The moon was obscured by dark clouds. Tonight, there would be no views of the water.
All was quiet.
At least, outside the palace walls.
She sat in a chair, feeling restless about the events of the last few hours. The king was under tremendous strain. His enemies will try and use it to their advantage, she thought.
There was much to lose. Based on her Book of Magic, few members of the secret society had ever defected to the dark side. Now there were at least two. It didn’t seem like many, she realized, but they’d used their powers to wreak havoc across a number of kingdoms.
Her mind raced. She had a few days to solve King Chauncey’s problem, before she needed to leave Penge. She promised the prince they would return to Ireland well before June, when the baby was due. It was already April, and the trip back would take several weeks. There wasn’t much time left.
Aisling’s thoughts were interrupted by a quiet knock. She moved across the room and opened the door, to find a page standing at attention.
“Princess, I have an urgent message for you,” he said, as he handed her the missive.
Aisling thanked him and retreated to the adjoining chamber. She stood by the fireplace and tore open the note. It was from Erik.
Princess, please forgive my intrusion at this hour. I have some information that may be helpful to you. I suggest we meet in the rear garden, behind the chapel, at midnight. Tomorrow, the palace will be filled with guests, and there may not be an opportunity for a private meeting.
As she debated her next steps, the prince appeared in the doorway.
“What’s happened?” he asked.
“Erik wants to meet.”
“When?”
“In twenty minutes, on palace grounds. But there’s something else you should know.”
“What is it?”
“I’ve just consulted my wand.�
� In haste, she described the insights from her second dagger, including the potential threat in the palace.
“I’ll come with you. We’ll bring my soldiers.”
“Is there a way we can leave without attracting attention?”
“I have some ideas,” he said. “Let me roust the team and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Aisling nodded, and scanned the room for her cloak. She wondered what critical information Erik wanted to share, and why he chose to meet under the cover of darkness.
Aisling stood in the garden, by a cluster of trees. In her dark clothing and hood, she blended into the landscape. A cold wind blew across the hard ground and rustled through the branches. Tucking her hands into her pockets, she took a deep breath and examined her surroundings.
The stone walls of the chapel blocked out the distant lights of the palace. Without a moon for navigation, the area was a murky space, without shape or dimension. There was no noise, or movement of any kind. Aisling was relieved that the prince was nearby with his soldiers, positioned across the terrain. If anything happened, she told herself, there were reinforcements nearby. She sat on a bench and waited.
Several minutes later, a figure, the size and shape of Erik, came into view. She was surprised to see a second person with him. She stood when her eyes adjusted to the dimness and she realized who it was.
“Your Majesty,” she said in a low voice.
“I’m sorry to summon you like this, but I needed to talk.”
“How can I help?”
“I’ve not been well. There are many who are trying to use that to their advantage. I’m being blackmailed.”
“By whom?” asked Aisling.
“It started with the King of Floe. He threatened to spread false information about me unless I made a series of large payments. Then last year, he disappeared, and the threats stopped. A few months ago, his brother, King Gardari, gave me the same warning. I refused, and that’s when he orchestrated the thefts of my money and ships. I sent Erik to negotiate with him, in the hopes of creating a positive alliance, but he was not interested.”
“What’s happened now?” asked Aisling.
“Advisors Rancid and Irsen are insisting that I send payments to Lord Thrain, Gardari’s intermediary. If I don’t, they will convince the nobles to overthrow me and create a ruling committee in my stead.”
“But that’s treason,” she said, outraged at such blatant actions.
“That’s why we need your help,” Eric murmured. “The king is facing internal and external dangers. We’re hoping you can help us address the crisis.”
“I understand, and have an idea,” said Aisling. “I can work on reducing the external threats from Lord Thrain and King Gardari. Can you concentrate on finding proof that your advisors are taking bribes? If the proposed payments are made to Insula, your officials must be benefiting in some way.”
The men exchanged glances. “That makes sense. We’ll make it a priority,” said Erik.
“Let’s regroup after the masked ball. We can share any updates and review progress.”
“Thank you,” said the king. “I feel a tremendous strain. It’s so difficult to act when you think everyone is against you. Your presence here is most appreciated.”
“I hope I can help,” said Aisling, “and will do my best.”
The men left in haste. She stood in the twilight and watched as they disappeared from view.
The next day, the palace buzzed with activity in preparation for the royal event.
From the early morning hours, servants bustled about the chambers, polishing the already gleaming surfaces, arranging exotic flowers, and organizing the multitude of silver, china, and crystal. By early evening, the ballroom was aglow. The chandeliers and candelabras cast an amber radiance over the proceedings.
Aisling and the prince stood in the reception line to greet a number of aristocrats. The king’s absence was noted, but they greeted the dowager queen, the sovereign’s stepmother. Her eyes seem cold, thought Aisling, as she scanned the woman’s expression. A feeling of uneasiness swept over her, but it soon passed, and was dismissed from her mind.
As they moved farther into the hall, the noise level escalated. There was excited chatter as guests clustered in circles, entertaining each other with the latest scandals and gossip. For those who wanted to escape the packed floor, there were advantageous views from the balconies.
Aisling smiled as she recognized the man walking toward them.
“Erik, it’s nice to see you,” she said.
“Hello, Your Highnesses. I’m surprised you recognized me. It appears I have a feeble disguise.”
“You have no worries on that score. It was a lucky guess.” Her eyes swept the surrounding area. “Where is the king tonight?”
“He is here, somewhere. Ah, there, in the corner,” he said, as he gestured to the sovereign, seated with several women.
“What about the others?” she asked, referring to the two bribery suspects.
“There they are,” he said, as he pointed to a group of men seated near the middle of the room. “They are each wearing black masks. One has a blue design, the other red.”
“I see,” said Aisling. “The prince and I will mingle and let you know if we learn anything.”
“I may not get a chance to connect with you again this evening, but in any event, we’ll meet up tomorrow.”
“We look forward to it,” said Drayaen, as he and Aisling bid goodbye to the advisor and headed deeper into the crowd.
Aisling studied the guests as she and the prince twirled around the ballroom. It gave them a solid vantage point from which to observe the crowd. Although there were stares from curious onlookers, both she and Drayaen were adorned in luxurious wigs, silks, ruffles, and jewels—a perfection combination that blended with the other nobles.
After several dances, they retreated to the side. Her husband recognized a dinner companion from the event earlier in the week. After agreeing to regroup in thirty minutes, Aisling went in search of a quiet retreat.
She left the ballroom and wandered down a series of halls, accompanied by some of the prince’s soldiers for protection. The strains of music and loud conversations faded as she walked farther away from the hub of activity, her security forces maintaining a respectful distance.
After admiring a few paintings, she passed an inviting room with a large green door. It was ajar, so she pushed it open. The room was filled with books from floor to ceiling. There were a few candles near the entrance, but the space was filled with shadows. This must be one of the libraries that the king mentioned during their initial meeting, she realized. Before exploring, though, she needed to adjust her shoes. There was a small chair situated behind an ornate screen. She wandered to the other side of the chamber, and sat down, feeling immediate relief.
A minute later, there was a commotion at the door. She glanced up and recognized the two cousins, Rancid and Irsen, from their masks. There was a third person with them. They closed the door and continued their heated discussion.
“I don’t want excuses,” said the woman. “Just tell him to sign it. Hold his hand for all I care.”
“But, Dowager, it’s not that easy. He’s already refused,” said Irsen. “If we keep pressing him, his suspicions will grow.”
The Marquis of Rancid interjected. “There’s risk if we’re caught.”
“There’s too much at stake to back out now. He’s not fit to rule. With a committee, we’ll have more control.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“Create confusion. Advise him that the document is for something else. Tell Lord Thrain’s people to add more mercury to his diet.”
“What about Gardari?”
“He answers to us. If he deviates from the plan, we’ll sever our relationships with Insula, and the Realm of Ice. Penge will not be threatened.”
As they continued their discussion, Aisling held her breath. The partition hid her presence, but if the consp
irators moved deeper into the room, she might be discovered. She hoped that Drayaen’s soldiers knew enough to wait for her exit.
Aisling strained to hear more of the conversation, but there were voices in the hall. After a few minutes, she heard a door shut, and peered around the corner.
The traitors were gone.
Her mind reeled. A member of the royal family was directing the external enemies. It was a web of deceit, betrayal, and lies, all for the sake of money and power.
After several minutes of silence, Aisling rose, and made her way to the door. She surveyed the hall, and found it odd that the corridors were empty. She exited in haste and headed off to find the prince.
As she approached the ballroom, she saw Irsen speaking with the king. The sovereign appeared agitated. Aisling walked by them and rounded the corner, to a nearby bench.
“We must decide now,” said the advisor. “These trade agreements won’t wait.”
“I’m not at your disposal all hours of the day,” said the king. “This is a party, and I am not leaving now. If it’s so important, you decide what we should do.”
“Very good, Your Majesty. What about the need to re-issue debt?”
“I’m weary. You handle it.” He waved his hand in dismissal, and turned away from the advisor.
A few minutes later, she rounded the corner. Both men were gone.
She needed to find Erik and Drayaen.
There was not a moment to lose.
CHAPTER TWENTY
TREACHERY
The ballroom was so crowded that it was difficult to move. After searching for the prince, without success, Aisling climbed the stairs to the balcony. She reached the gallery and breathed a sigh of relief. Her husband was walking in her direction. They made eye contact, and as he approached, she grasped his arm and steered them both toward a remote corner of the mezzanine.
“Is everything all right? You’ve been gone for almost an hour,” he said, his brows furrowed.
“I’ve made some disturbing discoveries. We need to send a note to Erik now,” she said.
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