Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Beatrice stayed standing where she was, watching as Benedict was dragged away in chains, his arms gripped by two tall swordmaidens.
Benedict had seemed so sincere, both when he’d been pleading with her to be quiet and just now as he was being hauled away.
Besides, this whole thing made no sense, now that she paused a moment to truly think.
There was no way Benedict’s father and brother had come to stop him from capturing the Primrose.
They hated humans even more than Benedict did.
Or had. Did he still hate humans? Until that evening, Beatrice had started to think he didn’t.
King Theseus turned to Lord Jonlius and Borachio and made an inviting gesture. “Would the two of you come with me? I would like to discuss exactly what happened tonight.”
“Of course, Your Majesty. We will be happy to cooperate.” Lord Jonlius’s voice was too smooth, too arrogant.
As King Theseus led Lord Jonlius and Borachio away, Beatrice forced her feet to move.
She hurried to Queen Hippolyta and curtsied, her heart pounding.
She didn’t have quite the easy friendship with the queen that Brigid did.
Instead, the Swordmaiden Queen rather intimidated her.
“Your Majesty. I’m not sure…well, something isn’t… I don’t think…”
“Take a deep breath, Apprentice Librarian Beatrice.” Queen Hippolyta sheathed her sword and smiled. “Your family has been informed of what was happening. That was quick thinking to send Lady Helena to us.”
“It was all I could think to do, Your Majesty.” Beatrice bobbed another curtsy, gripping her skirt with shaking fingers.
At least Meg, Basil, Munch, and, most importantly, Brigid, had been warned about the trap.
“But you should know. I don’t think Benedict’s father and brother were here to stop him.
I think they planned to help him. I don’t have any proof of that.
They didn’t say anything incriminating. But… ”
Queen Hippolyta’s smile widened, her eyes twinkling slightly. “Oh, we are well aware that they weren’t here out of the goodness of their hearts. Why do you think Theseus asked them to join him for further questioning?”
Beatrice released a breath in a whoosh. Of course King Theseus and Queen Hippolyta had guessed. They knew the opinions and beliefs of the various members of their Court, especially of those who opposed them.
She scrunched her skirts in her fists and gathered her courage.
“I’m also not sure Benedict was trying to trap the Primrose.
I thought so, when Lady Helena told me. But then I confronted him, and he kept telling me to trust him.
He said the trap wasn’t for the Primrose, and that the Library’s fate depended on what he was doing.
He went so far as to vow that he wasn’t lying. ”
“That is not something to take lightly.” Queen Hippolyta’s smile vanished, her eyes cooling.
“No, it isn’t.” Fae didn’t vow without a good reason since the magic of the Fae Realm would prevent them from breaking that vow. “And just now as he was hauled away, he said that he trapped the person he intended to trap.”
Which didn’t make sense at all. The only person he’d managed to trap was himself. Had he feared that he would do something to the Library?
“Do you think Claudius is forcing him to do something against the Library?” Beatrice asked the question out loud, her mind whirling. “But he couldn’t have known that Helena would overhear, and that I would send for the king.”
“There is certainly more here than meets the eye.” Queen Hippolyta pressed her mouth into a thin line before she tipped her head slightly. “Thank you for your help tonight, Beatrice. The king and I will thoroughly investigate this situation.”
Turning, Queen Hippolyta motioned with her hand. The remaining swordmaidens stepped into formation around her, then all of them strode away.
Beatrice stood there, strangely at a loss now that the action was over and she’d been dismissed.
What now? It wasn’t like she could help with the investigation. She wasn’t clever like her sister. She wasn’t even a proper part of the Primrose League.
Yet she felt like she should be there for Benedict. Which was weird. She’d threatened him only moments ago. She’d utterly believed he’d been about to betray her sister.
And now she wasn’t so sure. Now she almost felt a strange loyalty to him, as if she needed to defend him from false allegations.
Were they false? And if they were, what had Benedict been up to?
His words kept ringing in her ears. Please, Beatrice. Please trust me.
Did she dare trust Benedict of all people? Especially in something like this? If he was lying, then the danger to her sister was over.
But if he wasn’t lying, then that danger was still out there.
After a moment, Beatrice shook herself and followed Queen Hippolyta and her swordmaidens. One way or another, Beatrice had to find out the truth.
Benedict paced the small room where he’d been locked, the door guarded by two swordmaidens.
At least he wasn’t in a dungeon. Yet. This appeared to be a small sitting room, complete with a comfortable couch and several plush chairs. Although, the room didn’t have any windows, making it an effective place to hold a prisoner until the exact charges could be sorted.
How could Benedict prove he wasn’t a traitor?
He could vow to his king that he hadn’t intended to trap the Wild Fae Primrose.
But that would only go so far, considering he couldn’t explain what he’d actually intended to do.
The king would believe his vow was some kind of tricky wording rather than the truth.
Well, it was tricky wording, but because it was as much of the truth as he could say.
Benedict paced across the room yet again, his hands clasped behind his back.
What would Claudius do once Father informed him that Benedict had tried to pass along the information?
He likely wouldn’t step up his plan, given that whatever he was planning would have the most impact on Midsummer.
But would he do something else in the meantime?
What if he targeted Beatrice? When Benedict had pretended to trap the Primrose, she had been the one to show up to stop him. Claudius wouldn’t overlook a detail like that, even if there was no way Beatrice was actually the Primrose.
How could Benedict stop any of it? He was likely going to end up in some kind of dungeon before morning.
Would King Theseus take the time to interrogate him before sending him there? So far, Benedict had been left here, as if the king had already decided his fate and had no need to learn more.
Right now, Benedict would take being strapped to a table for a torture session if it meant he would be given a chance to attempt to tell the king what he knew.
The lock rattled, and Benedict whirled to face it.
When the door opened, a swordmaiden stood there, wearing traditional chain mail over a blue dress.
She carried a spear that was taller than he was, and he noted with a relieved breath that she wasn’t the cow-headed swordmaiden that Claudius had substituted in.
At this point, he wouldn’t put it past Claudius to have Benedict assassinated.
She stared at him with flinty eyes and a solemn line to her mouth. “Come with me.”
Benedict’s stomach twisted but he nodded and followed.
The other two swordmaidens who had been guarding his door fell in behind him.
They didn’t re-shackle his hands, but then again, he was surrounded by three swordmaidens.
Escape wasn’t an option. Not that he wanted to escape.
He wanted a chance to tell someone loyal to King Theseus what he knew.
The swordmaidens marched him down the hall before the lead swordmaiden halted before a discreet wooden door set in the wall. “Go through there.”
Benedict swallowed, glancing from the door to the swordmaidens. What would he find inside? Surely they weren’t telling him to walk to his own execution? King Theseus wouldn’t have him killed this quickly, would he?
Swallowing, Benedict opened the door and stepped inside.
The room beyond was bathed in shadows, and the only light came from a single faerie light set on the far side.
A figure sat in a chair partway across the room so that the single light cast deep shadows across his face.
His elbows rested on the chair arms while his long fingers were steepled in front of him.
Even with the shadows, Benedict could tell that he was a male fae with darkly blond hair tied back in a queue, chiseled features, and elegant clothing.
And yet he’d never seen this particular fae before, despite the fact that he looked like he could be a noble from the court.
Who was he? He wasn’t a noble of the Court of Knowledge, nor was he a noble from another Court who visited the Library frequently. He wasn’t one of the librarians nor was he dressed like one of the common fae of the Court.
“Shut the door.” The fae lord spoke, his gaze fixed on Benedict in a disconcerting way.
Benedict closed the door, plunging the room into even deeper shadows. After all this time, he was finally in the presence of the one he’d sought. “Are you the Wild Fae Primrose?”
“I am.” The fae lord’s gaze remained fixed on him. Perhaps it was a lie, but there didn’t seem to be anything but truth in the fae’s eyes. “I’ve heard you’ve been planning to trap me. Rather clumsily, I might add.”
“And yet it’s midnight, and here you are.” Perhaps getting snarky with the Primrose wasn’t the wisest course of action, but the other fae’s tone needled Benedict.
Prodding the Primrose into making contact with him in some way, shape, or form had been his secondary purpose for staging that trap.
“Indeed.” The fae noble peered at Benedict over steepled fingers, a slight smile creasing his angular face. “So perhaps I should be congratulating you on your cleverness. You wanted my attention. Now you have it.”