29
I woke the next morning to Misty pawing at my face.
“What is it?” I grumbled.
Oh, she speaks! Misty sat on my chest, looking grumpier than usual. Would you like to explain why you’ve been ignoring me for the past day and a half?
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. My vision focused, though I couldn’t see beyond Misty’s furry form.
“I have not been ignoring you.” I picked her off my chest and sat up.
Don’t try to deny it , Misty meowed, licking her paw. I know you’ve been busy kissing your betrothed, but I highly doubt he’ll be half the companion I am.
Thoughts of kissing Bennett flooded into my mind despite myself. I pinched my arm, hard. Misty gave an unimpressed meow.
“Now, now,” I said, petting Misty in her favorite spots to ease her. “So you’ve been in this room for too long. Let’s go for a walk. ”
Misty evaded my hand. I’d prefer feline company today, if you please. Take me to Pippin.
I was going to agree, but realized that the tabby was with Bennett. Knocking on his door first thing in the morning certainly wasn’t keeping him at arm’s length. “Maybe later. Pippin is probably still sleeping.”
Misty meowed in displeasure, but I pulled her into my arms, burying my face into her fur. “Alright! I haven’t been attentive, but I’ll make it up to you today. Promise!”
I won’t forgive you so easily , she said, but made no move to wriggle out of the hug.
After making sure Misty had something to eat, I broke my own fast in a small sitting room down the hall. Misty joined me shortly after and we descended the myriad of stairs to take a stroll around the opera house. The staff were running about, busy preparing for Celeste’s second performance tonight.
So this Celeste woman is a rebel? Misty asked, walking along the banister.
I had recounted everything that had happened to her, from the king’s arrival to the hidden messages.
“The messages were on the fliers she signed,” I said quietly so my words wouldn’t echo. “Whether she was the one who wrote them is unclear.”
Misty flicked her tail and stopped to sniff a potted plant. She nibbled on a leaf, then spat it out. I hope to be there when whoever is behind it gets arrested. I’m in dire need of some excitement.
Ulysses had yet to come with news about another event scheduled and Bennett was busy with King Maximus, which meant I had the entire day to myself. I had forgotten how carefree it was with just Misty and me. We hadn’t been alone for this long since the tour began .
After a morning of exploring the halls and an afternoon of playing with quills and lazing about in every available patch of sunlight, I took Misty outside for one last evening stroll. The air was refreshingly crisp. A gaggle of citizens had already gathered before the steps of the opera house with their tickets, waiting to be admitted.
I made sure to stay out of sight behind the hedges and pillars, as I didn’t have any guards. I wasn’t sure what the Alevine crowd would do if they saw me.
Misty nudged my leg. I picked her up at our unspoken sign, arranging her comfortably in my arms so my cloak shielded us both from the chill.
“Well, Misty. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?” I asked.
She purred as I rubbed her belly. I suppose I can.
I kissed the top of her head, then stifled a yawn. Despite the opera house just coming alive, I was ready to retire. But the sight of someone familiar stopped me in my tracks.
Dominic Turner. He was hunched behind a hedge only several paces away. I hid myself behind a pillar. My jaw clenched. What was he doing here?
It’s him again , Misty meowed, narrowing her eyes into slits. He positively reeks.
I stroked her head to calm her. “What does he smell like?”
Rats.
I frowned. “If he’s here it’s only for one reason.”
The rebel meeting.
You want to spy on him, don’t you?
Misty looked ready to fall asleep. I bent down, letting her onto the ground. “Go back without me. I left our door ajar,” I said. “You can find Pippin, if you’d like.”
Are you sure ?
I nodded. “I’ll be back soon.”
Misty didn’t need much convincing. She slipped back into the entrance, no doubt eager to cuddle up with a pillow. Or with Pippin.
I poked my head out from behind the pillar. Dominic was still there, conversing with a figure obscured by unruly branches.
“...saying you have personal information on Lady Narcissa and Crown Prince Bennett?” the figure asked. It was a woman, her voice high and nasally.
“I am a friend of theirs, in fact. I met them in Coriva.”
“I see. And pray tell me, why do you refuse to reveal your name?”
Dominic tilted his head. “No offense, madam, but I want to make sure you don’t run off with an incomplete version of what I have to say and slap my name on it.”
The woman tittered. “I assure you I never name my sources, unless they wish it.”
“Nevertheless I would like to keep my anonymity,” Dominic said. “At least until the day after tomorrow.”
“Really. You convince me to travel all this way and yet refuse to tell me what you promised. I’m starting to think you have other intentions,” the woman said slyly.
“As lovely as you are, Sister Scarlett, I called you here strictly for business. Trust me. You will be glad you were present for what is to happen in the next three days.” Smugness was practically dripping from his voice.
“Very well. You best deliver what you promised,” Sister Scarlett said.
Dominic bowed low as she emerged briskly from the bushes. I braved a peek at the infamous gossip columnist. The woman had a curvy frame and brown hair, about forty years of age. Her lips were painted scarlet, the color stark against the dreary gray sky. Fitting.
I whirled around to see the tail of Dominic’s coat disappear around the corner of the opera house. My feet followed before I could process everything I had heard. I highly doubted Dominic called Sister Scarlett to Alevine just to give her some petty gossip about me and Bennett. What he said was to happen in the next three days had to be connected to the rioters.
My eyes were trained on Dominic’s back. I didn’t see the two figures emerge from my right until I stumbled over their feet.
“Ow!” Flannery cried out, hopping back in the grass. He dropped his lamp, the flame sputtering.
“Flannery?” I turned. “Maddox?”
The two were not in uniform, which was a rare sight. Maddox shushed me, eyes wide.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
I raised my brows. “What are you doing here?”
“Didn’t you hear? Lord Frederick and His Majesty sent us to infiltrate the rebel meeting,” Flannery said, shaking out his foot.
“They chose...you two?”
“Thanks for the unwavering faith,” Maddox said flatly. He looked over my shoulder. “Look, as much as we would love to stay and chat, we have to find the entrance to the sewers.”
Flannery sighed pitifully. “We’ve been looking for half an hour.”
Dominic had gone further down the side of the building, nowhere to be seen.
I bit my lip. “I know where it is.” I told them what I had witnessed and my suspicions of Dominic being part of the anti-witch rioters. “He could be meeting them right now.”
Flannery nodded. “Let’s go then. Otherwise we’ll be late.”
Maddox frowned at me when I followed them down the building. “You are not coming with us.” He quickened his pace, leaving us behind.
I trotted to catch up, the grass squelching beneath my boots. “But I—”
“Lord Frederick will have my neck. Not to mention the crown prince. Did you know he was looking for you all day?” Maddox said.
Bennett was looking for me. I ignored the warmth in my chest at the thought of him. All the more reason to go. “I’ll stay close, I promise,” I said.
“You’ll slow us down.”
Flannery panted from behind us, slinging his lamp over his shoulder. The flame nearly sputtered out again as it swung wildly. “Maddox is right, milady,” he said, between breaths.
Despite their protestations, I kept pace with them until we reached the back end of the building. Beneath a patch of tall grass was a metal disk, slightly ajar.
Maddox moved it aside. A ladder led down to infinite darkness.
“Here it is,” he said.
Flannery gulped. I tucked my hands behind my back and bent over the hole. “There are all sorts of animals in the sewers. Rats, possums, perhaps a stray cat or two. Did I mention rats?”
“Rats?” he squeaked.
I nodded. “Feral ones. But I’m sure with some reasoning they could be kept at bay.” I turned on my heel. “I suppose I’ll see you two tomorrow. If you survive.”
Maddox exhaled as Flannery whimpered.
“Fine. If you get hurt or kidnapped I’ll—”
I held up a hand. “After you, brother.”
THE AIR GREW IMPOSSIBLY colder when we descended, bringing with it the putrid odor of rot and sewage. I smothered my nose in my cloak as Flannery held the flickering lamp before us. A thin river of water ran through the center of a narrow hall, rippling from a slight draft.
“Two lefts, four rights, then one left,” Maddox said, squinting at the slip of paper he had written the instructions on. “Are we supposed to skip past any entrances?”
“If there were entrances to skip, it would have been included.” I gave him a nudge. “Let’s hurry.”
We proceeded down the hallway and turned left, then again. We turned four rights. Miraculously, it was silent save for our boots against the damp bricks. No critters made an appearance, thankfully. Feral animals seldom listened to reason.
At the cusp of the last left, the sound of rumbling voices emerged.
“We’re here,” Maddox said, rubbing his palms on his trousers. Flannery threw a concerned glance my way.
“Are you sure you want to do this, milady?”
I wasn’t. I pulled my hood tight over my head, making sure not a strand of hair poked out. This would be my first time diving into a roomful of vagrants without Mother being in charge of them. But what Dominic did was unforgivable. The sooner he was discovered the sooner I’d be rid of him. I took a deep breath and promptly regretted it.
“Yes,” I wheezed, burying my nose in my cloak again. Sewage air was less than pleasant.
Sandwiched between Flannery and Maddox, I shuffled forward.
“What in the blazing fires...” Maddox whispered.
The final hallway was in stark contrast to the others. The walls were smooth and white, decorated with golden accents not unlike the rooms of the opera house above. Torches lit the interior, but the firelight cut off abruptly at the edges of the hall.
“There’s magic all over this,” I said under my breath. It didn’t make sense. Why would an anti-witch rebellion involve themselves with magic?
Benches sat along the walls, filled with men and women of all ages. Those who didn’t have a seat stood, crowding either entrance. There were perhaps thirty or forty of them. Judging from their dress, most were of the working class. Dominic was nowhere to be seen.
A large crate stood in the center, an empty ring of space around it.
I held my breath, wondering who would step up and speak.
“I’ve never seen you before,” a gruff voice said to my left. A grizzled man with scarred, muscular arms frowned at Flannery. Soot blackened his fingertips. A blacksmith. I squeezed my eyes shut. We were doomed.
“Reckon you haven’t seen lots before.” The suave, uncaring words were almost unrecognizable as Flannery’s. But there he was, looking lazily up at the blacksmith as if the stranger wasn’t thrice his size .
“Why are you here?” the blacksmith asked, narrowing his eyes.
Flannery shrugged. “Same reason as everyone else. Witches ruining my business. Do you know how well they can cut a quill? It’s ridiculous. My pens can’t compare.”
Imagining Flannery as a pen-maker wasn’t difficult. Good thing he didn’t claim to be a locksmith or anything of the sort.
The blacksmith grunted, relaxing his stance. “Those blasted royals didn’t know what they were doing when they let those witches up here again. Did they think some petty tour was going to fix everything?” He scoffed. “No one gives a damn about the crown prince’s marriage. If anything, having a witch queen would make matters worse.”
The people around him agreed heartily. I bit my lip. The tour was coming to a close. King Maximus had to enforce new regulations quickly before the rioters did something drastic.
Just then, a figure stepped onto the crate. It wasn’t hard to miss the insolent set of his jaw.
Dominic held up his arms to quiet the rabble. A few grumbles sounded from around the hall.
“Who let him up again?” a woman muttered.
“Arrogant peacock.”
The general’s son cleared his throat, the sound embarrassingly weak in the tunnel. “The mistress is preoccupied tonight,” he said, “so I have taken her place. She will return for tomorrow’s meeting.”
“Why do you get to speak for her?” a woman shouted. “A pampered nobleman has no business leading a movement for the people.”
Dominic’s face pinched, searching for the offender in the crowd. I lowered my head, hoping my cloak was plain enough to blend in. “Because I have proven myself capable. Do not forget that my father has made the winter solstice attack possible.”
I stilled. General Turner had been in charge of the Royal Guard in Father’s absence that night. He let the assassins in.
The woman scoffed. “That attack achieved nothing. The royals didn’t believe the assailants were witches.”
Dominic’s face grew red. “Place the blame on the fools who concocted the plan,” he spat. “My father is a general. As long as he is willing to assist us, we have a fighting chance at bending the royals to our will.”
So General Turner wasn’t the mastermind of this. Instead, it was this mysterious “mistress”. Someone who clearly had access to magic, judging from the nature of the meeting space.
“Are you suggesting overthrowing the crown?” a younger man asked, paling. “We’ll be traitors. They’ll have our necks!”
His companion smacked his shoulder. I realized with a start that he was Patrick, the stagehand who had bumped into me. “We’re already halfway to treason,” Patrick said, sneering. “Besides, it’s not like the king has a particular aversion to traitors. Look who he married his son off to!”
Another murmur of agreement rose.
“A traitor and a witch.”
“She must have enchanted them to her will.”
Dominic stamped his boot. “Silence!” The crate wobbled dangerously beneath him. “Lady Narcissa is innocent in all this. She is merely misguided. I have strong suspicions she is not a witch at all. This has all been a ruse to distract us, to convince us that the royals are actually taking action. ”
The blacksmith beside Flannery bellowed a laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re smitten with the witch princess.”
“Narcissa was promised to me once,” Dominic said haughtily. “I know her character best, not to mention whether she is a witch or not.”
I clenched my fists. Who did he think he was, brazenly claiming to understand me when we hadn’t interacted in half a decade? Rage simmered beneath my skin. He was a despicable man, presumptuous and brash and too ignorant to know it.
The same woman from before groaned. “If you’re so sure she isn’t a witch, then how did she single-handedly douse the fire in Vandil?”
Dominic faltered. “An exaggeration, no doubt,” he said. “Besides, the...the fire was started by a rogue farmer who heeded no caution!”
A few snickers sounded.
“You should be grateful. The whole situation made your Lady Narcissa look like a saint,” the woman jeered. “And look at that farmer now. She’s not coming to these meetings anymore.”
The crowd’s muttering grew louder until Dominic was completely at a loss. Maddox and Flannery exchanged glances.
It was prime time to go while the group was distracted. Besides, it was clear this was not a usual meeting. The “mistress” was missing.
“And what of the mistress’s secret weapon?” someone shouted over the rabble. The three of us paused.
Dominic straightened up. “That is going according to plan. She’s taking it for a test run.”
“How come we aren’t allowed to know?” the blacksmith demanded. “How come only you do? ”
The general’s son smiled smugly. “Seeing as none of your ideas have worked, the mistress has decided to execute her own plan. You will find out once it is implemented.”
“You’re lying,” the woman spat. “The mistress always informs us of our next steps.”
Dominic raised a brow. “Careful, now. Remember that you swore allegiance to the people, not to a witch.”
Maddox tugged on my arm. I let him pull me away from the muttering crowd, the three of us slipping back into the darkness of the other tunnels. My mind spun. This mistress was a witch, leading anti-witch rioters?
We retraced our steps and eventually returned to the opera house, weary and dazed.
Flannery let go of a breath. “Well. Seems like we have a lot to report.”