17. Trustworthy
Chapter seventeen
Trustworthy
Antonio’s first day back at the castle had been a whirlwind of duties, and even though he’d tried to catch any more hints of treason among the guards or any hint of contraband making it into the castle, he could see nothing out of order.
Sir Thomas was out there, somewhere, and he and his men were coming for the royal family, but Antonio couldn’t do a thing about it.
He was in the dark, in the middle of the ocean, thrashing around without any hope for land beneath his feet.
His mind echoed with Lorelle’s words: The king will take you at your word, I know he will. And if he doesn’t, he’ll have to listen to the two of us.
But he’d found nothing out of order, even as he’d patrolled the courtyard and asked for reports on movements within the castle. There was nothing of suspicion. Nothing that would warrant embarrassing himself in front of the king.
But the danger was out there, and Antonio had to do something about it. He stepped into the courtyard again, under the cloak of deepening twilight, as Gabriel stood watch from the allure.
He heard the familiar strains of music filter out from the theater. Had Lorelle been able to integrate back into the ballet? No doubt she had practiced all the last two days back in the castle.
He had the fleeting thought to go and see, but he shook it away. She wouldn’t want to see him. But as he gazed around the courtyard, what else would he find here but the chirp of the frogs and the flowers still dewy with rain?
He should look into the theater, if only to follow up on the Elevski uniforms. He had to make sure they really were part of the costumes of the ballet, as Lorelle had said. He had to be sure.
But even he didn’t believe his own conviction as he entered the theater.
He stood in the shadows of the back row, where he could see over the audience to the bright stage. Now the rest of the wooden soldiers marched onstage, all dressed in deep-blue uniforms exactly like the ones he’d seen in the port.
Disappointment flared up. Lorelle had been right.
And that meant he had no leads—nothing—to give to the king, except whispers of a threat. He didn’t even know whether Sir Thomas was on the island, where he would be, or when he would strike.
If his father were here, Antonio knew the advice he would give him: Get another perspective. And maybe, maybe his brother would get him an audience with the king. Between the two of them, the king would have to listen, if only for his brother’s history of having a sound mind.
They had to warn the king, even if it was nothing but a whisper of smoke on the breeze.
He made his way out of the theater and through the castle’s large hallways. He found his brother stationed outside where the prince had been hidden as of late: the library.
Cristian was fielding about half a dozen men, quietly giving them instructions.
He wore the same red Monte Rican uniform as they all did, with the addition of a revolver like Antonio’s.
Only Cristian’s revolver was lacking gunpowder, a luxury now that the Empire had put such a high tax on the good.
But that was a secret known to a few, and the glinting metal gun was able to cow even the rowdiest crowd when necessary.
Antonio’s creaking knee was louder than all the careful footsteps of the guards, and Cristian looked up at his approach. “Antonio?”
Antonio stepped forward, just outside the ring of Cristian’s men. “?Tienes un minuto?”
Cristian rubbed his jaw, probably noting Antonio’s tense expression. “For you, hermano, I can spare two minutes.” He grinned. “But not three.”
They stepped aside, away from the lingering guard who might overhear them.
“Ian is a good guy, Antonio,” Cristian said. “I don’t understand why you—”
Antonio shook his head, cutting his brother off. “Not everyone can hear this,” he said. “I—I need to know you’ll believe me, Cristian.”
Cristian let out something like a chuckle. “I’m listening.” But Antonio heard the telltale hitch in his voice.
“Sir Thomas is here, on the island.”
The change was immediate. His expression darkened and his hand fell to the hilt of his sword. “Where?”
Antonio swallowed, throat dry. “I—I’m not sure,” he said. “I saw someone in the courtyard last week, and I lost their trail, but I heard some sailors talk about Sir Thomas in Mar Verde yesterday.”
Cristian nodded as Antonio spoke, though he released his sword. “Do you have anything else?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Anything more concrete?”
“Boxes.” Antonio swallowed. “Some costumes for the ballet.”
“That’s not out of the ordinary, Antonio,” Cristian said, his voice carrying a distinct tone of disappointment now. “Do you have any real evidence?”
The words stung, but Antonio had been expecting it.
Maybe he’d just been hoping that Cristian would take his word as enough evidence.
But maybe Cristian was still of the belief that Antonio woke from nightmares of the terrible event two years ago.
Maybe Cristian thought Antonio’s mind was seeing ghosts where none existed.
Cristian put a hand on Antonio’s shoulder. “I can’t spare the time to look into it right now,” he said. “Not without something stronger than the word of one guard.”
“I’m your brother,” Antonio said. “You know me. You know I wouldn’t lie.”
“I don’t think you’re lying . . .” Cristian trailed off, but the rest of his unspoken words hung in the air.
But Cristian didn’t exactly believe him either.
“I can’t put my reputation on the line right now, Antonio.” Cristian sighed. “There’s a lot riding on everything going well for the princess’s birthday. I have to take care of this, and I don’t have time for your . . .” he trailed off.
“Delusions?” Antonio all but spat.
He hadn’t heard that word since he’d finally been well enough to move out of his childhood home a year ago.
Those first few months after the accident had been a waking nightmare, and his dreams had been plagued with fire and ghosts come back to life.
At first, Cristian had listened to him, gone out to check whatever invisible danger Antonio had seen.
But eventually, he’d stopped, and Antonio went investigating on his own.
He knew other soldiers had seen his more difficult moments. At first, when a gun went off in training, he would be transported back to that moment on the docks when his world went from blue endless skies to all-consuming red blaze.
Antonio blinked away the red that burned his vision to focus on Cristian in front of him. His brother’s gaze had turned wary, tinged with concern.
Cristian sighed. “If you find anything more concrete,” he said, “tell any one of my men. You can trust them to get it back to me.”
Antonio glanced away, but Cristian shook his shoulder.
“At least trust my judgement. And I trust them.” Cristian frowned slightly. “I’m sure you trust your men.”
Antonio thought back to Gabriel. The young lad was loyal, still free of the weight of the world that Antonio had witnessed. And, up to now, he had kept quiet about Antonio’s investigation. He could trust Gabriel and Cristian. Maybe he could bring himself to trust someone else, too.
And even as he thought of it, Lorelle’s face flashed in his mind. Maybe there was something more to trust than knowing that the other person would take a bullet for you.
The quiet kind of trust, sitting in a clearing and playing with a wolf pup, knowing that in that moment at least, he had nothing to hide. Trusting that when he met her gaze, he would find compassion, empathy, and a strength that ran deeper than the might of ten men.
When he looked to his brother now, he saw conflict beneath the wariness in his expression. Cristian wanted to believe him. But he wouldn’t take him only at his word.
And then Cristian was called away for some detail and Antonio turned. He would listen to his brother, but only inasmuch as he knew where he could find someone to trust.
After patrolling the castle grounds himself, which took him far too long, Antonio found Gabriel exactly where he’d been assigned hours earlier: the allure overlooking the cliff side.
He stood straight, not leaning against the wall, looking out over the courtyard.
And Antonio thought he might have stayed that way, still as a statue, if it wasn’t for a little gray bundle of fur running out from behind him.
“Hey, get back here—” Gabriel broke from formation, and Antonio scooped up the wriggling pup, waving Gabriel back to position. “Disculpa, Capitán,” Gabriel apologized. “He woke up and I let him down for a moment—”
Antonio dismissed his apologies. “This pup’s liable to convince anyone to let their guard down,” he said.
“What’s his name?” Gabriel asked, smiling as Peluche tried to bite at Antonio’s fingers. “You know, for being so ferocious, he’s rather cuddly like a—”
Antonio cleared his throat, cutting off whatever Gabriel would have said. “Have you seen anything of note?” he asked.
Gabriel immediately sobered, frowning. “No. Just a few more dancers coming through, the last-minute preparations for tomorrow, and word is the prince received a communication from Elevsk.”
Antonio gave him a look. “Turning into a gossip, are you?”
Gabriel blinked. “Is it gossip if I’m on my post and two other guards are talking so loud I can hear them across the courtyard?” His words might have been a joke in response to Antonio’s banter, but the confusion in his eyes made it clear he didn’t catch Antonio’s tone.
Antonio fought a wave of guilt. Maybe he could have stood to be more open with Gabriel before, really take him under his wing. But there was no time for that now.
“Come on,” he said, turning back down the steps of the wall to the courtyard. “We’re going to see the king.”
“What about my post?”
Antonio looked over his shoulder. “You won’t have a post if you don’t come with me,” he said. “This is life or death.”