Chapter 13
13
When I got back to my room, Jinky hurried up to me, out of breath. “Your Highness,” she said, bowing her head. “May I speak to you, in private?” She was wringing her hands and glanced around as if she was afraid someone was listening or watching.
“Of course,” I said carefully. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to hear what she had to say right then. There was so much I needed to process about the day already. “Can I ask what this is about?” Maybe it could wait.
She shook her head, her eyes wide.
“Okay.” I reminded myself that the queen should know everything that was going on around her. Just like holding my head high and showing my face when I’d rather hide under the covers, I had to get used to being available for crises when I’d rather not.
Jinky closed and locked the door as soon as we entered the room. Unusual. Then she began checking behind the curtains, under the bed, in the closet. I stood there and watched her flit frantically around the room for a couple of minutes before finally asking her what was going on.
“Lambanas!” she exclaimed, pointing a finger in the air as if she’d just had an epiphany. Then she ran to the plants in the corner and began pulling the leaves aside to look for the tiny creatures.
“Jinky! Please tell me what is going on!” I was starting to get worried. Maybe there was a direct threat I needed to be aware of. I had an awful thought: Maybe I’d seen something I wasn’t supposed to that afternoon in town, and now Lucas was angry, especially after how I’d upset him in class.
She started walking back to me, still looking all over the room, even picking up pieces of paper on the desk and looking under them. When she got close, she began whispering, “Okay, I don’t think anyone—or anything—is here.”
“How would there be? I can’t take another second of this. What happened? Does this have something to do with Lucas?”
“Sir Lucas?” Jinky shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, Your Highness, but you’ll understand my caution in just a moment, once I tell you what I learned this morning.” She walked over to one of the rattan peacock chairs and motioned for me to sit down.
Leaning forward, she whispered, “On my way to the kitchens today, when I was bringing your tray down, I overheard some of the maids and pages discussing how the king was found.”
“And?”
“Do you recall the circumstances of King Vivencio’s death?”
“He was found in his office. He’d been up late into the night, and they claim he overworked himself into a heart attack.” Now that I said it that way, it didn’t seem as suspicious as it had the first time Elias told me it was a “natural death.” That happens all the time. Particularly to stressed-out, burnt-out people.
“Well, what I heard is that he was found first thing in the morning, slumped over his desk, the writing quill still clasped in his hand. The door was locked.” Nothing Jinky said so far was news to me. And I was still failing to hear the suspicious part. Then she came out with it: “The only strange thing was what he had written right before he died.”
“You found the letter!”
“Yes! Well, one of the other maids did. Only, it wasn’t a letter, exactly.” She pulled a folded piece of parchment from her apron pocket and handed it to me.
I opened it eagerly, careful not to tear it.
The letter turned out to be a few hastily penned words:
Temo was right. It’s time to tell her the truth—
A large inkblot covered the rest.
My stomach lurched. Tell her the truth. Tell who? Me? My mother? Someone else? And tell her the truth about what? Who was Temo, and what was he right about? “Where was this found?”
Jinky shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not even sure which maid found it. None will speak of it. And I’d be afraid to inquire any further. If the note was missing at first, it means that someone didn’t want it to be found. Someone who has something to hide.”
I nodded. “You’re right. Don’t ask.” I read the note again. “Do you know anyone in the palace named Temo?”
Jinky shook her head. I almost blurted out the next thought, but I kept it to myself. I trusted Jinky, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t tell someone else in her confidence. I was going to have to get into the king’s chambers and do some investigating myself.
“Thank you for this. Listen, I think we both need to clear our heads. You can have the rest of the evening off.” I had to distract Jinky if I was going to get into the king’s chamber without anyone knowing.
She looked at me like I’d sprouted wings.
“Take a long, hot bath, maybe?” I suggested. “Read a book?”
“Why are you trying to get rid of me, Princess?” she asked, her eyes squinted.
“I’m not,” I protested. “It’s just that you’re always doing so much for me, and I don’t need anything right now. There’s nothing we can do about the letter presently, so you should take some time for yourself for once. Use my bathtub; it’s amazing. And then you’re right there if I need you.”
She still looked suspicious, but she also looked tempted. “I mean it,” I continued. “In fact, I order you. I’m just going to read in bed. I had a long day, and I want to stop thinking about my father’s death. We can think about this tomorrow. It’s not going anywhere.”
“Princess, this is such a generous offer. I can’t thank you enough for your kindness...” she said.
“It’s nothing! Take your time.” I picked up a random book and plopped onto my bed with it. Ensiklopedya ng Hayop at Halaman . “Homework,” I said, pointing to the book.
Jinky disappeared into the bathroom. I waited until I heard the water running and could smell the bubble bath wafting out from the steamy room. She began singing. I recognized the song or, at least, the melody of it. My mother used to hum it to me when I was very small. All that time it was a Biringan lullaby. Now it made sense why I never heard it anywhere else.
I had to go before I got distracted by nostalgia. Jinky wouldn’t be in there for long. I stuck the note inside the book and left it on the nightstand.
“Temo was right.
It’s time to tell her the truth.”
About what?
What was my father hiding? And from whom?
Who is Temo?
The next problem was the guards. There was no good way around them. I could cause a distraction somehow, make them run toward it and away from here. But that could backfire, put the palace on alert, and then I’d be followed even more closely.
My other idea was... I didn’t have another one. I flopped down onto an oversized armchair and leaned my head back onto Jinky’s cloak, which was slung over the back of it. I was running out of time. This just wasn’t going to happen, at least not tonight.
Tell her the truth.
No, it had to happen. I wasn’t going to sleep until I looked for myself. I needed a better plan.
The water shut off. Jinky called out, “Are you sure you don’t mind me here?”
“Not at all,” I called back at the door. “Like I said, take your time.”
The water turned back on. I sighed and rubbed my face with my hands.
I needed a disguise.
I looked back at the door.
Before wasting another second, I grabbed Jinky’s cloak, threw it on, put the hood up over my head, and started for the door to the hallway. There was a tray sitting on a marble console table near the entryway. I picked that up and brought it with me so I looked like I was busy.
Heart racing, I opened the chamber door and stepped out into the hallway. As expected, two guards stood outside. I kept my head down and held the tray as if I was on my way to fetch something from the kitchens.
“Hey,” one of the guards said.
I stopped but didn’t look at him. I kept my eyes on the ground in front of me, afraid he could see how nervous I was by how hard I was breathing.
“Bring me back a pastry, would ya?” he asked.
I nodded and continued on my way, faster this time, convinced they’d notice I was almost running and come after me. But they didn’t. I was home free once I made it to the stairwell.
The king’s chambers were in the opposite wing. I’d have to go up the stairs, then all the way across to the other side. There was no way Jinky would be in the bath for that long. But I just had to see it through. Ask forgiveness, not permission. I’d heard that phrase somewhere.
First I needed the key. The king’s chambers were always locked.
Ayo was in charge of almost everything, from staff to schedules, so he absolutely, definitely had keys to all the rooms in the palace. Hopefully he kept the keys in his office, off the kitchens. I knew his schedule; he was in the dining room organizing dinner service. I had a little time before then.
I scurried up the stairs and all the way down the halls, barely able to breathe but not willing to stop either. I found Ayo’s keys hanging on a hook and sneaked out of the office, through the kitchens, and bounded up the stairs that led to the king’s chambers. I was careful to keep as quiet as possible. If anyone was alerted, it’d be hard to explain what I was doing there.
Finally, I turned down the King’s Hall. I’d made it.
Portraits of Biringan’s former rulers lined the walls. Making my way down the hall, I noticed how the kings’ and queens’ clothes changed over time. The older portraits had much more elaborate headdresses and necklaces, along with warrior masks.
It struck me that these were all my great-great—et cetera—grandparents. The last portrait was of my father. I stopped to look at it more closely. It didn’t look like the photos I’d seen. In the painting, he was serious, stern, and looking off into the distance, wearing a regal barong Tagalog and a crown of palm leaves. Next to him was another king, who looked a lot like my father, only older, with white hair and a beard. King Paolo IV, according to the plaque. There was another of King Paolo with a woman who looked like him. At first I thought it was his wife, but the placard named her as his sister.
There was no time to examine the paintings further. I’d already taken too long. I continued to the chamber door and checked back down the passageway behind me. No one was there, and I heard no one approaching. So I took out the key ring.
Next problem: Which key? None were labeled, but they were all different—gold and brass and silver, light and hefty, plain and decorative. I looked at the doorknob. It was made to look like a shiny silver sirena, her pose resembling those mermaids on the front of pirate ships. Her tail made up the curve of the door handle. I looked back at the keys. The head of one of the larger silver keys matched the sirena’s tail.
I slid it into the lock. It fit perfectly. One quick turn—and click . Unlocked.
I put the key ring back in the cloak pocket and turned the knob. It creaked a bit. I paused; it sounded so loud. But all was still behind me. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Silent as a tomb. I could hear my own breathing. I found a torch on the wall and lit it so I could see.
I made my way across the room, careful not to knock anything over or bump into something. With my luck, one of the giant vases would crash to the ground and draw the attention of about a hundred guards. The king’s grand desk sat right in the middle of the room, still strewn with papers and writing utensils. There was a high-backed gold chair behind it, and two comfortable sitting chairs in front of it, for guests. There was another table by the window to the right, and on the left, another group of seats, which looked like they were made from wooden branches, arranged around a large round table that seemed to be made from the trunk of a massive, ancient tree.
There were tapestries woven with gold and silver thread hanging on the walls, each representing important events in Biringan’s history. The one on the wall behind the king’s desk depicted his coronation. Then I realized the one to its left, where an older king with white hair stood next to a young prince, was of my father and grandfather, whose portraits I’d just seen. And finally, on the tapestry to the right, I saw my father as king with a baby on his lap. Me.
I had no idea this existed. All this time, he had this hanging in the room where he conducted so much official business. He looked at that every single day. He never forgot me. Me. His daughter.
Tell her the truth.
If I was reluctant before, or felt like I just didn’t belong there, something clicked into place right then. This was not only where I belonged, it was my destiny. And my responsibility.
Still awed, I crept to the desk. Another thing occurred to me: This was where he was found. Sitting right there at that desk. In that chair. It sent a shiver down my arms.
Something crunched under my shoe. I looked down and gasped, jumping back. Some kind of beetle. Gross.
Then, to my horror, I saw them—tons of them. Beetles. Dead beetles. Some living ones crawling among them. All over the floor around the desk. And on the desk. They were also on the windowsill.
No wonder nobody wanted to come in here. This was an infestation. I heard a sound then, of the door opening. Someone was coming inside! Frantic, I looked around for somewhere to hide.
The only place was under the desk. With the bugs.
Still, braving some dead beetles was preferable to facing off with whoever was about to catch me snooping around in here.
I hurried behind the desk and crouched beneath it, conjuring all my inner strength to ignore the crunching beetles under my feet and the fact that the bottom of my dress was spread out all over them. It was hard not to gag. I put my hand over my mouth and tried to keep my breathing quiet.
Footsteps entered the room.
I held my breath. If I lost any control whatsoever, I’d probably give myself away. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure the intruder could also hear it.
The person stepped cautiously, slowly. One creak at a time, a dull thud against the old wood plank floor. A crunch.
Please leave, just go away, I prayed silently. What did they want? Didn’t they realize that no one was here? Unless they’d seen me come in and waited for the right moment to ambush me, all alone...
The steps were coming around to the other side of the room. I pushed my body as deep into the desk as I could.
I saw the boots. Black. With dark blue stitching.
It couldn’t be. It had to be someone else, even someone else from the Court of Sigbin, with the same boots.
The boots turned the opposite direction, and I saw the custom stitching on the heel, a looping letter L .
Lucas.