Villain's Assistant

by Carley Hibbert

  Dally pulled on his suit jacket, straightened the diamond studs on his sleeves, and then flicked his ear.

  “Start acting like a gentleman. As of tonight, you are one. No one need know where you grew up. This is a good time to inherit your good family name.” Dally faced Benjamin with an iron expression. “This is who you are now.”

  Dally pulled out a silver fan from her pocket. Benjamin rolled his eyes but stood up straighter and let the irritation slide from his face.

  He bowed perfectly and then offered Rebecca his arm. “Your Highness.” Noticing the surprised look on the women’s faces, Benjamin smirked. “We had a class for impersonating nobility.”

  “Of course you did,” Rebecca said, taking his arm as a wave of nerves left her wobbly. She pleaded with Benjamin not to let her fall.

  “Only if you promise to do the same for me,” he whispered back.

  They were escorted by a large group of guards, and her anonymity was now gone forever. Sir Wendell waited for them by the laundry, which was locked for the night. The hallway was ghostly quiet. He nodded at the guard’s salute and then bowed to the princess.

  He led the group into the kitchens, hoping to prolong the king’s secret a few minutes more. Faces flashed to the princess. Servants stopped their work to watch the royal procession stride through the kitchen. Rebecca caught a glimpse of Molly’s flaming hair as the maid curtsied respectfully to the princess, no recognition showing on her face. Rebecca felt a pang of sadness; she could use a smile from her friend right now. She paused and curtsied back to the kitchen staff, and Benjamin urged her on. No one seemed to recognize her. Maybe she could keep her friends a little longer.

  They stepped into another hallway that led to the main hall. They waited for Jalene’s group so they could enter the dining hall together.

  King Aldo hoped to keep the princess’s presence a secret until the moment she was announced. He claimed the secrecy was solely for her protection, but Rebecca suspected that a part of the secrecy was also about the drama. Aldo would be able to announce a wedding, the return of an heir, and the capture of an archvillain all at once. It would be his moment of triumph more than anything else.

  Sir Wendell turned and nodded. They moved out into the hall, which was covered in candles and late-summer flowers. The chandeliers were lit, and the large fireplace was filled artistically with floral arrangements that would not be burned this night. The Lady Jalene descended the stairs, her silver gown sparkling in the candlelight. Blue jewels were sewn into the shapes of birds on her bodice and her skirt, with brilliant blue feathers woven elegantly into the twists of her dark curls.

  Rebecca, now the Princess Reyna, paused with her group at the foot of the stairs. Lady Jalene curtsied cautiously, so the added weight of her gown and hair wouldn't throw her off balance. Then the princess curtsied deeply in return and gestured for Jalene to go ahead of her. The doors opened before them. The tables were draped in white and gold. The lower nobility was already seated and whispering, but all went silent as the women entered. Sir Wendell stood at attention near the door as trumpets announced royalty.

  “The Princess Reyna Brynn Rae, House of Ulmer. The Duke and Duchess of Alain. The Lady Jalene of East Burrow.”

  The occasion was marked by a collective gasp and silence. Another audible gasp was heard as Benjamin was announced as Lord Benjamin of Gehnry.

  Jalene still led the processional. After a few moments of shock, the whispers began without shame. Rebecca kept her eyes on Jalene’s dress as they walked to the head table, which was raised above the other tables.

  Benjamin leaned in, smiling. “A few were not surprised by your announcement, but I think it’s safe to say everyone was surprised to see me here.”

  “That should make you happy.”

  “Ah, but the question is, will the king be happy about it?”

  The flirty blond footman pulled her chair out. Rebecca cringed. Did he give her a second look? Benjamin raised an eyebrow. She ignored it. The nobility gaped at her, and her body tensed, ready to run. Perhaps these ridiculous dresses and extravagant hairdos, if nothing else, discouraged nervous young women from bolting at social gatherings. Her skirts alone could tangle and trip her up. She faced the hungry crowd and bowed her head in the stately manner that Dally had her practice. The nobility returned the gesture, and, without the slightest embarrassment, pointed and gawked.

  Another royal trumpet blast brought order to the room as Sir Wendell announced King Aldo, lord and master of all of Lam. All bowed deeply as he entered the banquet hall, a triumphant expression on Aldo’s face. He smiled at her. She returned it and lowered her head. Branwen followed behind, wearing black robes of a finer material than usual. A single jewel hung from a gold chain around his neck. They all stepped into their places. King Aldo faced Branwen and his escorts, who bowed in deep respect. The king bowed in return to the others at his table, including the princess and Jalene, and finally, to the lesser nobles below him.

  He raised a glass by its stem, signaling all eyes toward him. Rebecca gripped her skirts tightly. She focused on keeping her face smooth. Her head felt a little light, so she breathed as deeply as her corset would allow.

  “We are here tonight to celebrate the safe return of my niece and heir, the Princess Reyna.” Aldo’s voice rolled across the great hall, causing all eyes to shift toward her. He held out an expectant hand to her. The sound of her true name pulled off years of disguises. All could see her. A minute ago, she had wanted to run, and now she was unable to move a toe.

  Benjamin cleared his throat and then nudged her. He smiled with regal charm and offered his arm, which she accepted. He guided her toward Aldo. Somehow she placed her hand in the king’s. Benjamin squeezed her other hand before he let go. Aldo beamed as the crowd bowed deeply to his heir.

  “My brother’s daughter is home at last. We welcome her!”

  The force of the crowd’s cheer against her skin released much of the tension that had been building her whole life. She blinked back the stinging in her eyes.

  Aldo threw his head back and laughed. This was just the beginning of a list of celebrations. His niece was out in the open, his engagement would be announced next, and one of his most dangerous enemies was in his dungeon. Rebecca could see a weight lifted from her uncle’s shoulders. He was truly happy this night, and she could not help but share in his moment of triumph. She grinned at him and then down on those below them. Aldo kissed her hand and sent her back with Benjamin.

  King Aldo raised his glass to the room and drank from it, which marked the beginning of the feast. With that, more servants than Rebecca had ever seen began to file in, carrying platters of pigs, birds, bread, and ornate fruits and vegetables. The aroma was intoxicating, and Rebecca was sure that Benjamin would finally have enough to eat.

  FIFTY SEVEN

  Benjamin’s smile began to crack around the edges. He could feel it slipping into a smirk as he eyed the shocked nobility. They were beside themselves with all the possibilities of new court gossip. He watched as juicy tidbits passed up and down the tables marked by gasps.

  Benjamin lifted his wine glass to his nose to sniff. It smelled right, so he put the cup to his lips but only wetted them; his lips would start burning if there were any poison. With Rebecca and Lady Jalene as possible targets, Benjamin wouldn’t be drinking any wine tonight.

  He suggested to Branwen that none of the royal party should eat or drink at the dinner. The bent man cawed at that one and admitted that would make his job much easier, but it would also sap all the fun out of the celebrations. He had trusted men placed in the kitchen and hallways to discourage food tampering. It was also standard protocol for the king’s wine to be watered down at large banquets and parties.

  Jalene’s uncle, a duke of some sort, sat next to Benjamin. He choked on his watered-down wine. Lifting up his glass again, he loudly admired it to cover his disappointment. So the aunt was probably the one holding the reins; the uncle was just the horse. The br
ide-to-be sitting on the other side of Rebecca was too shiny to look at. She had silver and gold woven into her hair, along with ridiculous blue feathers. No bird was that color. At least the lady carried herself with dignity and didn’t tittle and guffaw like many others at the banquet. That was a point in her favor.

  Rebecca sat quietly and watched the servants, especially the footman who had seated her. He made her nervous, but not in a “this guy is suspicious” kind of way. The footman kept glancing at Rebecca the way Benjamin had seen boys at school look at pretty girls. His hair was well groomed, and he filled out his jacket nicely. Surely he could find another girl to be interested in. The room was full of them, after all. Good luck to you! Anything the footman tried would probably end with Rebecca holding a knife to his throat, but there was no way to say that with a simple look. If they weren’t sitting in the middle of a royal banquet, it would all be very amusing, but right now, it was a distraction.

  “What is it?” Benjamin smiled painfully at Rebecca. How could he keep his eyes open for trouble with all this food around him? Even the aroma was distracting. He allowed himself a bite.

  Rebecca leaned in, obscuring her mouth as she held her glass up to drink. “I think the footman recognizes me.”

  Benjamin swallowed. “Isn’t that the point of all of this?” He followed this glib comment with a peal of false laughter.

  “Is this whole evening’s conversation going to be a series of fake responses and comments?” she replied in a singsong voice.

  “Only if we live that long.”

  This bought him a few moments of silence as Rebecca turned to talk to Jalene as if they were friends. He was impressed; he didn’t think she could hit it off with anyone, false or not. He watched them chat for a moment. Are they having a real conversation? Jalene nodded toward various people and then leaned in to spill their stories. Well, at least the bride will be informative, if nothing else.

  The dinner passed under the hum of uneventful conversation. Everyone was enjoying themselves—except Benjamin. He scrutinized servants as he ate minimally but savored every bite. Everything was spiced and glazed. Self-control! I am the master of me.

  From the corner of his eye, he noticed the aunt staring at him. Benjamin smiled back. She leaned over her husband and opened her gold fan.

  “Stop being a stick in the mud!” the aunt hissed.

  She pulled the fan away in a fit of amusement as if she had been teasing Benjamin, as good friends do. He must have let his smile slip off. Benjamin leered and raised his glass to her. She returned the gesture and joined her husband in talking to some nobody Benjamin didn’t care about.

  Aldo beamed triumphantly over his banquet. He hadn’t unloaded his big prizes yet. His engagement and the capture of one of the greatest threats to the crown and stability of the kingdom would be announced later in the evening. After the entertainment, Benjamin hoped. I just love jugglers.

  The noblemen and their wives who sat on the other side of Aldo displayed a potpourri of shock, awe, and disappointment. For some, the return of the princess was a victory for the future of Lam; for others a disappointment of years of scheming. He scanned the room for outright loathing, but perhaps the shock was still too immediate.

  Aldo, and therefore Branwen, had managed to keep Rebecca’s presence a secret from even the king’s most trusted friends. Branwen assured Benjamin that every few months a girl about the right age would show up with some lord or lady who claimed to have found the lost princess. So Rebecca’s arrival to the castle wasn’t enough to set off alarms.

  A woman in purple, sitting below, caught Benjamin’s eye. She watched the king’s table thoughtfully behind a silver fan. Her eyes followed the flow of servants in and out of the kitchen. Her eyes flicked to Benjamin’s face before she turned her attention to a man in a dark-red velvet coat. Benjamin felt a tinge of familiarity. Her large head covering and sleeves, both laced with sparkling jewels, obscured her face.

  Benjamin scowled and took a bite of pork with raisin sauce. The food improved his mood, so he took another bite. The aunt nodded in approval over her husband, who asked for stronger wine. But soon Benjamin was examining servants again. Why was the woman in purple watching the servants? Had Benjamin missed something? Shouldn’t the woman be watching Rebecca or the woman rumored to be engaged to the king?

  Branwen perched behind the king on a tall stool that the king allowed him. Dally stood next to him. Between the two of them they directed the servants and security, but they were too far away to be helpful. This left the aunt as the closest tool.

  “Lady—” Benjamin paused, realizing that wasn’t quite right.

  “Duchess!” she corrected through a tight red smile.

  “Yes, Duchess.” Benjamin glanced toward the table below. “Do you know who that woman in purple is? The one with the ridiculous sleeves and sparkling head thing?”

  The duchess closed her eyes for a few seconds and then peered over to the table Benjamin indicated.

  “She does look familiar. Where have I seen her before?” The duchess’s smooth face crinkled in thought. “I think I saw her at one of the outer country estates.”

  “Tunis, that woman with the purple? Was she at one of the hunts? Not the last one, the one before? You know the one where you nearly fell off your horse?”

  The duke smoothed his gray mustache as he pointedly inspected the woman. “Unpleasant episode.” After a moment he huffed. “No idea what her name was.”

  “That’s right. Later, we wondered if she had even come with anyone.” The duchess’s voice went cold. “Prickly woman.”

  A hand reached for the duchess’s plate. She nodded, and it was removed, followed by the duke’s. Benjamin sampled some of his vegetables before setting his fork down. The hand that removed his plate now exposed, Benjamin noticed that the servant’s thin wrist had not been scrubbed as well as his hands had been. Benjamin whipped around to see the backside of a scrawny boy in an ill-fitting uniform.

  He spun back around. The woman in purple glanced away and flicked out her silver fan. He glanced over to Sir Wendell, who sat at the table just below the king’s. Sir Wendell was nodding along to an old man in gray robes talking while scanning the room. Benjamin caught Wendell’s eye. With a small gesture from Benjamin, Sir Wendell pushed his chair back and scanned the table next to his, all the while continuing his conversation. He scowled and then shook his head, returning his focus to his neighbor.

  Frustrated, Benjamin turned to Rebecca, who traced the pattern on her plate with her fork. She met his eyes. “Did you see who took my plate?” She shook her head, barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes. “Something is off.” She paused at this and scanned the servants around them.

  She thinks I’m paranoid, but she is looking.

  Benjamin scanned the faces of the nobility below him again, looking for betrayal in someone’s eyes. His eyes flicked to the woman in purple again and again. Who was this woman? She didn’t belong somehow.

  She flipped her silver fan over her face, reflecting light back at Benjamin, blinding him. He turned away to see a small hand drop something into Jalene’s cup. The small footman turned away as he scooped up her dinner plate. How many cups?

  A tingling rang through the hall as the king stood up. He raised his glass of wine. Aldo’s triumphant glow filled the room.

  Once he announced his engagement, Benjamin realized with a shudder, everyone would drink. How many from tainted cups? His whole body grew cold as he met the eyes of the servant who was too small to be a footman. A wicked smile erupted across Baldo’s face as he headed to the kitchens. Benjamin slammed his fist onto the table, silencing Aldo just as he pronounced Jalene’s name.

  “Stop! Poison! The cups! The cups have been poisoned!”

  Half of the room stared down at their wine, wide-eyed, while the other half whispered in confusion or cheered the king’s engagement. Aldo’s eyes uttered all the threats that could have ever been said if Benjamin was wrong.

/>   “Sir Wendell!” Benjamin commanded, waving toward the woman in purple. He did not wait to see if his orders were followed. Benjamin sprinted toward the kitchen. He would catch Baldo. He would look him in the eye and see defeat written there. The heavy tread of soldiers followed him.

  A scream tore through the room behind Benjamin. Crystal and delicate dishes crashed in every direction. Benjamin parted a cloud of footmen. Guards swore as they collided with the servants. Benjamin followed the stream of broken dishes and food just inside the hallway.

  “Baldo!”

  The runty brother snaked through the chaos of servants gawking at the upheaval around them. Baldo looked over his shoulder, sneered, and ran. A clash of trays and broken dishes followed his wake.

  FIFTY EIGHT

  “Did you see who took my plate?” Benjamin’s eyes were wide and pleading. Rebecca shook her head. Is he going to be like this all night? He had barely touched his food or wine. He was unimportant. No one was trying to kill him. “Something is off.”

  Rebecca reminded herself that she had wanted Benjamin here because he was so paranoid. She surveyed the serving staff. She knew many of the faces, but they often brought in extras for large events. Did Benjamin think she hadn’t been watching? Someone likely wanted her or Jalene dead. Of course, he thought he was the only one smart enough to figure that out. If they weren’t at such a public event, Rebecca might reach over and smack him upside the head.

  She noted the footmen and guards. One servant walked between the tables. He looked wrong somehow—stiff, his gaze locked straight ahead. Benjamin screamed about poison. The servant reached into his sleeve as goose bumps ran down Rebecca’s arms. He was not a servant. Rebecca reached into her own sleeves for her knives. She pushed off her chair and clambered down the table. Dinnerware shattered with every step. All sound dimmed under her strained breathing.

  Curse this corset!