TWELVE
So much for a moment of peace. Bishop’s knights from Wintour are already here.
Clearly, they used more efficient means of travel, and I haven’t even caught my breath.
I start to drop the blanket Lenora wrapped around me but think better of it.
They weren’t huddled in the woods freezing their asses off an hour ago.
Bishop deposits the tray on the table, and I shuffle over, still wrapped in the blanket, to study the small feast Lenora scrounged up: several cheeses, some fruit, a bowl of olives, and a basket of split-top rolls with a plate of freshly churned butter beside them.
Given my current level of anxiety, my first impulse is to dive into the rolls and eat until my stomach explodes.
I drop into a chair and reach for the bread.
Lenora reappears with two mugs of steaming coffee. She sets one in front of me. “Would you like cream?”
But I’m already gulping it down, ignoring how it scorches my throat. Lenora glances at Bishop, but he just shrugs. So much for manners. One day in the wild, and I’m acting like an animal.
“Can I get some?” Taliesin asks her, still watching me.
“Get it yourself,” Vessica says and tosses her long braids over her shoulder.
But Lenora waves a hand. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”
I put down my cup and glance around, realizing the estate is awfully quiet. “No other staff?”
Bishop shrugs. “Fewer people, fewer problems. I don’t need coddling.”
“Don’t listen to him. He could use some coddling,” Taliesin says, popping an olive into his mouth and talking around the pit. “He’s getting grumpy in his solitude.”
“And yet, the more company you keep, the more trouble you get in.” Bishop swipes the bowl of olives from him.
Vessica watches them with wary eyes, like she’s tracking two wolves circling a fresh kill. But Taliesin grins before spitting the olive pit with remarkable accuracy into a little silver dish by his elbow. “We haven’t been properly introduced yet.”
Like I’d forget someone who gleefully lured assassins away on my behalf. “Taliesin, right?”
“You remember.” His smile widens. “But everyone calls me Sin.”
Vessica shakes her head. “No one calls him Sin,” she says to me before turning on him. “Stop trying to make that happen.”
“I’m not a quitter.” Taliesin winks at me.
I can’t help laughing, even though it feels reckless when half the world wants me dead.
“And stop flirting,” Bishop says, the blade of his knife flashing in the firelight as he cuts a hunk of cheese. “You aren’t as charming as you think you are.”
Taliesin claps a hand over his heart. “I am trying to lift her spirits.” He slings his feet off the chair and shoves his thick blond hair out of his eyes as he leans forward, elbows on the table. “How are you doing, Lady Icaros? Need company? I can be bathed, powdered, and sent to your room.”
I nearly choke on my roll.
“Smooth.” Vessica rolls her eyes and settles into a tall chair across from me. “Bishop is right about your charms.”
Taliesin ignores them, his gaze still pinned on me, and lifts his brows like he genuinely wants an answer. I’m not sure what he expects. For me to spill my soul to him? Maybe to cry? Crack a joke? Actually consider sleeping with him?
He’s definitely good-looking—and knows it. The scars on the side of his face only add a roguishness to his questionable charm. He even looks roughly the same size as Bishop, which is also impressive. But I’d rather focus on not dying than him, no matter how much he flirts.
“Leave her be,” Bishop says in a quiet voice. “She just got here. Stop picking at her like she’s carrion.”
I force myself to finish the roll as slowly and delicately as possible. Then I pile cheese and fruit onto my plate. I swallow and smile at Lenora when she delivers a pot of coffee and more cups. “Thank you for the food, Lenora. Bishop’s a lousy hunter.”
Taliesin cackles, smacking his knee as he leans back in his chair again.
“That’s what I get for sharing my rabbit,” Bishop mutters, picking at our impromptu luncheon. Considering he’s twice my size, I’d expect him to be hungrier.
Lenora must have read my mind, because she scolds him. “You need to eat.”
“I’m fine.” He points at the cheese still sitting on his plate.
Lenora shakes her head. “Don’t come sneaking into my kitchen when you’re hungry later.”
“I won’t,” he promises. “I’m going to Ardermare on business tonight. Your kitchen is safe.”
She frowns at this news as she pours more coffee into our mugs.
Bishop is leaving town so soon? Curiosity flares in my chest. “Where are you going?”
“The king’s assassin needs to be brought to justice.” He crosses his arms, still not bothering to eat.
“We’ll catch them,” Vessica adds in a somber tone.
But Taliesin only grimaces. “Will we? Whoever it is got in and out of the palace undetected.”
I butter another roll, hoping they’ve forgotten I’m here and will keep talking. I might actually learn something. Maybe if the king’s killer is caught, and it’s not an omen of war, the rumors that I’m some harbinger will die down and people will leave me alone. Or stop hiring assassins.
“Most of the troops think it’s a heart collector,” Vessica says.
I drop the roll. It splatters butter-side down on the table.
The others look at me. Bishop blinks and returns his attention to his friends. “Most of the troops are superstitious fools.”
“So, there’s really no such thing as a heart collector?” I ask despite my better judgment. He made his thoughts clear at the palace.
But Bishop still meets my gaze. “No.”
Liar. It’s an instinct that I can’t explain, but the look Taliesin and Vessica share confirms it.
I stare at my roll, my appetite gone. What does he gain by lying? It doesn’t make sense. Then again, not much about Bishop makes sense.
“And the rest of them think your guest of honor did it,” Vessica continues to Bishop.
But she’s talking about me. If news has already reached here …
I look to Bishop again, but when our eyes meet, something dark flashes in his before he looks away.
“That’s enough,” Lenora announces and beckons me to stand. “Let me show you to your room. You need to rest. I’ll bring up some proper clothes while you have a bath.” She shakes her head at Bishop. “Making a lady wear clothing meant for a soldier.”
He leans back in his chair, amusement tugging the corners of his lips. “My mother wore the same.”
“I don’t mind,” I say. Although the idea of something clean is tempting. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”
“Since when?” Bishop asks, earning a swat to the back of the head from Lenora.
“I’m sure that if she caused you any trouble, you asked for it,” she says, but her eyes gleam as she leads me toward the hallway.
“Not the western wing,” Bishop calls after us.
Lenora sighs, grumbling under her breath. “Off-limits.”
We’re just out of the great room when I hear Taliesin say, “She’s feisty. Maybe you’re wrong.”
“Without him, she’d be dead in a week,” Vessica says flatly. “I wouldn’t put it past Calix to come after her, even here.”
“That would start a war,” Taliesin replies, not sounding the least bit perturbed. “Maybe she is the harbinger.”
He says it like I’m a fuse that’s already been lit.
“Come along, Lady Icaros.” Lenora ushers me away before I can hear Bishop’s response.
“Arden,” I correct her. Hearing my family name is too painful, even if I’d rather be Arden Icaros than whatever the Stars chose for me. “If you don’t mind.”
“Of course, Arden,” she says softly.
Lenora points out every room we pass, her pride evident. “That’s the library. Don’t let him catch you in there after dark; he’s particular about his books. I don’t even bother going in there anymore.”
I take note of its double doors. Libraries hold answers. It’s worth checking out.
“The armory’s down there.” She nods to an iron-barred door. “If you need anything sharper than a kitchen knife, just ask.”
I sincerely doubt Bishop plans to arm me, but I nod. It never hurts to know where to find a sword.
Lenora continues cheerfully. “Oh, and the music room is by the front door, not that anyone uses the piano since … Well, it’s been too long. Do you play?”
“No.” There was never time for lessons.
We climb a grand staircase that empties into a long, narrow gallery where the windows change from stained glass to something else—clear but with lines etched into the surface. At first, I think it’s decorative, but then I see the patterns. Nochtimetry.
I trace a finger along the windowsill as we pass. “These are wards.”
“Miradores is full of them.” She nods. “This house is built to withstand a siege. Or worse.”
What could be worse than a siege? I’m not about to ask.
She moves on, but I linger to study the lines. The entire estate is beautiful but also intimidating—and the nochtimetry feels like it’s there to keep people in as much as out. I’m not sure which applies to me.
When I catch up, Lenora is waiting in front of a heavy wooden door. She opens it and ushers me inside.
It’s at least twice the size of my bedroom in Damalis.
My heart squeezes at the thought of my old home, but I ignore it.
Painted pale blue, the suite is feminine in a way that’s at odds with the rest of the estate.
The bed’s canopy is trimmed with lace. Perfume bottles rest on the desk, and a low settee waits near the fireplace.
Lenora heads straight to the claw-foot tub in the attached bathing chamber and starts the water.
Its brass tap is shaped like a wolf’s head, the horns labeled hot and cold.
Towels are stacked on a stool next to it along with a basket of soaps wrapped in paper and tied with silk ribbons.
The floor is tiled in moonstone that catches the light of a gold leaf chandelier.
“This is a very … nice room,” I say, failing to come up with a better word.
“It was decorated when one of the princesses visited decades ago.” Her brow furrows like she’s trying to remember which one as she starts tidying the already neat room. “We used to host guests all the time. Now we only entertain on Twelvetide, but I try to keep it up. Just in case.”
“In case Bishop shows up with a woman?” I ask, gliding my hands down one of the bed’s smooth posters.
“In case someone needs it.” She tugs at a corner of the duvet that’s wrinkled. “It’s been quiet since the tragedy.”
“Oh?” I try to sound casual, even though Lenora keeps piquing my curiosity.
But she forces a smile. “I wouldn’t have dreamed of Bishop showing up with a lady. I suppose anything can happen.”
Indeed.
“There’s a view of the gardens.” She fluffs one of the many pillows on the bed.
I wander to the window and pull the curtain aside for a better look. There’s enough light left to see the garden is a riot of tangled branches and dead leaves. Vines have seized control, creeping across the path and winding around a moss-covered fountain.
“It’s a little wild.” Lenora moves beside me, sighing. “No one’s tended it in a spell. My knees don’t appreciate all the stooping.”
“There’s no gardener, either?” An estate this size with the wealth of Order Marius should have more than one.
“Bishop prefers his privacy.”
The lack of household staff doesn’t make sense, unless my family isn’t the only patron line struggling. It’s hard to imagine the king wouldn’t reward Marius better for their service. Then again, he’s ignored our troubles for years.
“And Lord Marius is gone half the time. He’s always traipsing to some far corner of the world for Stars-know-what reason.
” Lenora shakes her head like she can’t fathom the idea of travel.
She plants her hands on her hips and surveys the room for anything she’s missed.
“I’ll bring up some fresh clothing. There’s paper in the desk in case you want to write home.
” She pauses. “Will you be staying long?”
I bite my lip. “I’m not sure.”
She nods as if that’s answer enough. “If you need anything, just ring,” she says, pointing to the old-fashioned bell cord by the fireplace. “I’ll find what I can for you to wear and leave it in the wardrobe. I’m afraid it will be out of fashion. You’ll have to go into Wolf’s Keep for the rest.”
“Wolf’s Keep?” Just the name sends a shiver down my spine.
“The village.” She nods toward the bathing chamber, where the tub is still filling up. “Enjoy your bath. I’ll leave those clothes for you.”
But after she’s gone, I rest my forehead against the window, the glass fogging under my breath. The garden is beautiful in a ruined sort of way, clinging to life even in the midst of so much death.
This place is full of secrets. I can feel them pressing in, crowding out the silence.
But mostly, the house feels lonely, as if even the walls would trade their ghosts for company.
I thought Bishop had a secret before. Now I’m sure.
I don’t know why, but I’m certain that secret is somehow connected to why he’s protecting me.
This is where he’s hiding it, and I’m going to find out what it is.
My life depends on it.