28
I laid out the opera fliers side by side. The first from the farmer, which was creased and covered in soot. The second from Dominic’s satchel, and finally, the third I had taken from backstage. I sunk my fingers into the carpet. We were in the middle of the floor in my chambers, Bennett crouched across from me. He studied them, brows furrowed.
“Both attackers had these on their person,” I said. “I had a feeling the opera house is connected to the rioters in some way.”
“It’s fitting to call them rebels at this point,” Bennett said quietly. “Do you remember the Winter Solstice Ball?”
I nodded.
“The rigging system backstage is identical to the one fashioned above the ballroom, down to the color of the wood and the thickness of the wires. It could be a coincidence, but I highly doubt it.”
I nodded. Olderea didn’t have many opera houses, the Grand Alevine Opera being the only one in comfortable proximity to Delibera.
I pushed the third flier to Bennett. “There’s something else too. Pippin said they smelled of lemons. This had a lemon juice stain on it earlier.”
Bennett held the flier to his nose and regarded it for a moment. He did the same for the others, coughing after the sooty one. “I can’t smell anything on the other two.”
Pippin shoved his head beneath my arm and nosed them. I still can , he meowed.
“Pippin can,” I said, pulling him onto my lap.
Bennett smiled and scratched the tabby behind the ears. I still hadn’t gotten used to the sight of his mouth curved upward. He cleared his throat, wetting his lips when he caught me staring. “So you found the second flier on the assailant in the forest?”
“Yes.” I took a breath. “I think...I think he was Dominic Turner.”
Bennett straightened. “Are you certain?”
I wrung my fingers and told him what Dominic said to me during the Huntington Abbey ball, and how he tested me with the garter snake. Bennett’s brow furrowed.
“That is a severe overstep indeed. I wish you told me sooner,” he said, frowning. “What made him so certain you aren’t a witch?”
“We were engaged once,” I muttered. “He doesn’t believe—”
“You were engaged to him?”
“It only lasted a month,” I said quickly. “We weren’t close.”
I hardly knew why I had to explain myself when the arrangement had long dissolved, but the crease between Bennett’s brows disappeared .
“If he is rubbing elbows with rebels, I’m afraid this involves more people than I would like,” Bennett said, looking out the window.
“General Turner?”
“I sincerely hope not.” He sat back on his heels and exhaled as if he had a burden the size of a kingdom on his shoulders. I suppose as the crown prince, he did.
“We should tell King Maximus.”
Bennett nodded. “One more thing. Where is Giselle?”
The seamstress came immediately when summoned. She flicked her eyes between us. “What do you need, Your Highness?”
Bennett stood, brushing off his breeches. “A smoothing iron. Do you have one?”
She perked up. “I bought one yesterday! Wait here.” Giselle ran off to her room and came back with a hefty hunk of iron, the base shaped like a rounded arrow. She held it away from her, a wad of cloth wrapped around her hand. “Just heated it. What do you need to press?”
Bennett splayed the third flier onto my vanity and took the iron, laying it over the back of the paper. As he moved it slowly across, thick brown stains appeared in the shape of letters and numbers.
12:30 AM. Sewers. 2L, 4R, 1L
Giselle gaped.
“How?” I managed to say.
“Lemon juice can be used as invisible ink. It won’t appear unless heat is applied,” Bennett said. He colored under our incredulous gazes. “It’s something I learned from a previous case.”
He gave the same treatment to the other two fliers .
1:30 AM. Roof. 3L, 2R
12 AM. Sewers. 4L, 5R, 2L
“Meeting times and directions,” I said. I turned the fliers over, trailing my finger down to the dates of the shows printed on the bottom. “And those are the dates. There’s one tomorrow night.”
If Celeste was writing these, it meant she was a rioter. Her concern over witches was false, as I had expected.
Giselle pressed a hand over her mouth. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
Bennett looked grim. “Rebellion.”
“WHAT?” KING MAXIMUS stood and slammed his hands on his desk, face growing cherry red. “Rebels are meeting here? In my presence?”
We went to the king immediately after our discovery. He was understandably upset as we had interrupted his meal, but news of a rebel gathering ended up being more important than roasted chicken and pear soup.
“I don’t believe they anticipated your arrival, Father. But it’s likely they’ll think us ignorant and meet anyway,” Bennett said, spreading the fliers before us.
His Majesty seated himself again, exhaling heavily. “What do you suppose we do, Bennett? After all, you did insist on this tour out of a stubborn will to defy me.”
Bennett didn’t react. “Surrounding the building is out of the question,” he said. “I propose we send two guards to infiltrate their meeting tomorrow night.”
King Maximus nodded. “A cautious approach is best. Once we unveil the culprit we can target them accordingly. I must speak to Lord Frederick tomorrow.” He sank back into his armchair, looking gray and haggard against the bright red cushions. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I said. “We’ve discovered several points of unrest in Coriva and Vandil regarding witch businesses.”
“I am aware,” King Maximus said. “Though I have yet to hear anything from the crown prince.”
Bennett ducked his head. “Apologies, Father. I sent them to the palace before I knew you were coming.”
“You didn’t know I was coming? You surprise me.”
“As you meant to surprise me,” Bennett said with a dry smile. “I was preoccupied.”
I recalled that Ulysses wanted to tell him something the other day. But Bennett had left so quickly after our talk that the steward couldn’t get a word in. I turned the ring on my finger, watching the gem glitter.
“I see.” King Maximus sucked in his cheeks. “Then perhaps you can give an oral report instead.”
He did. Bennett explained William’s produce shop and the complications behind Vandil’s textile trade. He proposed his idea of limiting witch weavers to their specialty fabrics so textile merchants would have to return to human weavers for linen and wool.
“A flawed plan, as those who specialize in luxury fabrics are still robbed of business,” Bennett said, “but it is better to pass a law now that we can amend later. Perhaps as time passes, it will be possible for witch weavers to collaborate with human weavers.”
King Maximus nodded slowly. “It is viable, though the fire in Vandil’s Witch Market put a damper on things. A number of people are upset at the extra funds I allowed the witches for reconstruction. They believe I’m favoring them.”
I frowned. “But their entire market got burned down. A rioter did it out of spite.”
“Logic gets lost in riots,” King Maximus said dryly. “The future princess running to put out the fire herself only added to the favoritism narrative.”
I shrank into my seat. Everything I did during the fire was for selfish reasons, but I never thought it would harm the royal image.
“Perhaps it did. But Narcissa showed the witches of Vandil the importance of leadership,” Bennett said. “They’ll be more likely to cooperate with future laws that restrain their business. They are deeply grateful for what she did, Father.”
I looked at him in surprise. Bennett responded with the slightest smile, hazel eyes glimmering.
King Maximus grunted.
BENNETT WALKED ME BACK to my room. The hallway was lit with the torches mounted along the walls, bathing the glossy marble floor in a warm glow. Our shadows danced in the flickering firelight.
“Thank you for coming to my defense,” I said tugging on my hair ribbon. It loosened in my hands. I twisted it between my fingers like I used to as a child. “But King Maximus is right. I was impulsive.”
“No,” Bennett said. “You did a noble thing. Father can be...Father.”
I frowned at the floor, studying the veins of cobalt and gold in the tiles as we passed. It felt wrong, being praised. Lord Frederick’s words came to mind. Intention was the soul of an action. Intention determined character. Mine were far from noble.
Bennett didn’t know that. Nobody knew that except me.
I was so lost in thought I didn’t realize Bennett had stopped. “Your room is here, is it not?” he called out, voice echoing. I turned, flustered to see him rather far away. I trotted back, smoothing my features.
Something must have shown on my face.
He dipped his head to catch my eye. “Is there something wrong?”
Why was he being so kind to me all of the sudden? I couldn’t stand the sincerity in his gaze, not when I knew it wouldn’t last.
I steeled myself. “I was not noble.”
Bennett laughed. “I am certain dousing a devastating fire is on the list of virtuous acts.”
I ignored his smile and faced my door instead, keeping my voice level. “I had an ulterior motive. We both saw my mother’s letter before it happened. It was not your fault I ran off and hurt myself. It was mine.”
“Narcissa—”
“What did you think of me then?” I finally voiced the question that had been haunting me. “Did you hate me?”
Bennett blinked, caught off guard.
“Did you think I was part of some scheme with her? That I was back to my old ways?” I twisted my ribbon harder. “I never communicated with her during the tour. Not once. Back in Delibera I only visited to make sure she was still there, but nobody would have believed me.”
Bennett took the end of my ribbon, unfurling it from my grasp. I watched as he smoothed the wrinkles out of the emerald silk and wound it into a neat spool around his fingers.
“Narcissa.” He said my name so softly, as if it was devoid of harsh syllables. “I never hated you.”
“I...”
He tucked my hair ribbon into his waistcoat pocket, right over his heart. I couldn’t seem to find the right response.
“You are not to blame. I know you are not like your mother.”
Bennett didn’t know what I was capable of. He didn’t know the things I had done willingly for Mother. He was only infatuated with my recent acts of heroism . I anchored myself with those facts, refusing to be drawn in by his hazel eyes.
“Even if the others don’t believe you, I do,” he whispered after a moment. “Isn’t that enough?”
I stepped back. How could he say those words, as if only the two of us mattered? How could he look at me so tenderly after what I told him?
“No. It isn’t,” I said stiffly, even as my heart screamed otherwise. “The entire kingdom hates me, and for good reason. Even if you don’t—”
Bennett pulled me to him in a sudden embrace. My breath caught. I was terrified by how much I craved his affection. How was it that when he held me, I couldn’t bring myself to worry ?
“That’s not true,” Bennett said. His voice made his chest rumble. “And even if it were, you’ll win them over.”
I meant to push him away entirely, to extricate myself from his arms, but I only managed a mere two inches. His eyes caught mine. And suddenly it felt like we were closer than ever.
“Kiss me again, Cissa?” Bennett whispered.
My pet name coming from his mouth undid me. I didn’t know what I was doing. Or what I was feeling. My hand found his cheek on its own accord. His scent, the curve of his philtrum, his lashes that fluttered closed—everything about him was so magnetic. I tipped forward, pressing a lingering kiss to his jaw. Then to the corner of his mouth. One more kiss wouldn’t hurt, would it?
Our lips brushed. Bennett’s breath hitched.
You mustn't let this opportunity go to waste. Get close to the crown prince. Make him trust you. Better yet, make him love you.
And suddenly, Mother was there, looking imperiously over me as I did her bidding.
I jerked back.
Bennett opened his eyes, his expression shy. He touched the faint red prints where my rouge had stained his skin. “Apologies. That was inappropriate of me. You didn’t have to—”
I forced a laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. “If I recall correctly, you already stole a kiss when I was unconscious.”
He blushed. “I promise I didn’t mean it that way.”
I stepped away and opened the door, slipping inside to put some distance between us. My heart was threatening to burst out of my chest for more reasons than one.
Bennett was playing his part of Mother’s plan far too well. He was falling for me .
And most confounding of all, I was falling for him. But how could I truly love him if that was exactly what Mother wanted?
“I’m teasing.” I pulled on a smile. Luckily, he was too embarrassed to notice its fraudulence. “Good night, Bennett.”
He returned the smile, though his was genuine. “Good night, Cissa.”
I watched him leave before I closed the door, dragging a hand over my face and pressing it to my neck. My skin felt feverishly hot.
This was dangerous.
Mother escaped once. She could do it again, ready to resume where we left off. How thrilled she would be at the progress I had made.
My lungs constricted as I recalled Mother’s gore-drenched hands in my nightmare.
You don’t have a choice, Narcissa. We are bound by blood.
It would be best if I held Bennett at arm's length until I knew it was safe.
I trudged over to Misty’s sleeping form and ran my fingers over her head, wishing I could drown my worries in her company. I sighed. There was little sense in waking her when I told her the same concerns less than two months ago. She thought I was too paranoid.
But was I?