CHAPTER 22
Mallory
Mallory kept her smile in place the best she could. Enough to be believable but not enough to look fake, even though that was exactly what she felt like.
Normally, mornings were her favorite, especially when they involved Jakob. Today, not so much.
The kitchens were already warm with sugar and spice when she and Jakob slipped inside like a couple of thieves.
Their laughter bounced between them at her dare of a king in the kitchen.
Jakob’s humor was easy and bright while hers was a bit more forced.
Sunlight shone bright through the high windows and reflected off the copper bowls and polished counters.
The royal baker, a short, round man with flour permanently dusted across his face jumped nearly a foot when Jakob clapped his hands together.
“Good morning, Master Eldin,” Jakob said cheerfully. “We’re here to help.”
Eldin stared. “Your Majesty, forgive my boldness but you most certainly are not.”
Jakob grinned and rolled up his sleeves anyway. “Too late. The fair Mallory insists we’re making cookies.”
Mallory laughed on cue and stepped forward to steal a pinch of dough from the counter. “It was a dare,” she corrected. “Very unofficial.”
Eldin sputtered. “This is highly unusual for a king to do.”
“And yet here we are,” Jakob responded easily.
The baker surrendered with theatrical frustration before he retreated to hover anxiously at the edge of the room while Jakob commandeered a mixing bowl. He bumped Mallory with his hip as he worked and dusted her nose with flour when she leaned too close.
“Sabotage,” she accused and swiped at him with a puff of powdered sugar.
“Strategic advantage,” Jakob said, eyes warm and entirely too perceptive. “You’re smiling less today.”
Normally, she would have revelled in his easy confidence, the ridiculousness of a future king cracking eggs too hard and swearing under his breath, and the way he met her eye as if no one else in the room mattered. She would have leaned into him and let the moment anchor her.
Today, though, every laugh felt like a sham. Stolen time she had no right to enjoy.
Her phone was a weight in her pocket against her thigh, both invisible and unbearable.
As Jakob stirred, she caught herself counting the turns of the spoon or the seconds that ticked away on the kitchen clock.
Guilt pricked at her chest with every look he gave her that was open and trusting.
He was happy while she was planning to ruin it.
She didn’t deserve this morning or him.
When Jakob offered her the spoon to taste and she hesitated before she accepted it and forced a hum of approval. “Perfect,” she said even though she was too nervous to taste anything. She hated the lie that spilled from her mouth so easily.
Jakob kissed her temple. It was quick and affectionate, but it almost brought her to tears. “See? You make everything better.”
The words landed like a quiet blow and added to her inner turmoil. She turned her face just enough to hide the way her eyes burned.
The guilt sharpened until it was almost dizzying.
On the surface, after breakfast unfolded like any other.
She walked through the frozen gardens with Jakob as the morning mist burned away and listened while he spoke to one of the guards about patrol rotations.
She made sure to nod at the right moments even though his words barely penetrated her guilt.
And fear. She was afraid of what waited for her in a few hours, even though she was just as nervously excited at the chance to see her sister again.
She laughed when he teased her about her nose turning red in the cold as he threw a snowball at her. Anyone watching would have seen a woman at ease, but inside, she was splintering.
Every spare breath carried the echo of her sister’s name.
Meg.
Mallory’s fingers itched all morning for her phone to vibrate. Her hand was drawn again and again to the pocket that held it, and every time Jakob was distracted and not watching her, she slipped the phone out and stared at the screen.
Finally she had a text from the unknown number.
She read the messages until the words felt carved behind her eyes.
Come alone.
Bring anyone and she dies.
The pin was in the same place as the previous text. Her thumb hovered over the screen, scrolling back to the first message, then forward again, as if repetition might reveal a loophole she’d missed. There was none. The threat was clean and merciless with terrifying precision.
She slid the phone away when Jakob looked back at her and forced her hands to still. He watched her closely today, closer than usual. Not suspicious, exactly, but protective. As if he sensed something brittle in her and was bracing himself against it.
That made it worse.
By midday, the castle felt too small. Stone corridors pressed in, every turn a reminder that she was being observed, escorted and protected.
Jakob insisted on accompanying her even to the library and settled across from her with a ledger while she pretended to read.
She read and reread the same paragraph until the ink blurred.
How was she supposed to leave again?
She’d already pushed her luck once. Slipped away with a lie and returned with Jakob asking more questions than she gave answers to. Jakob hadn’t pushed her too hard then, but the silence afterward had been heavy with things unsaid. Today, he barely let her out of his sight.
Panic coiled tighter with every hour.
The early evening bells rang, sharp and commanding. Jakob stiffened as a runner rushed into the library at a sprint. The boy had a pale face and was out of breath.
“King Jakob,” the boy said as he bowed low. “King Sven requests your presence. Immediately. War council chamber. It’s the Ruecrags.”
Jakob’s jaw set. He glanced at Mallory as concern flared in his eyes. “I need to go. Will you be all right?”
The lie rose easily to her lips. Too easily. “Of course. I’ll be here.”
“Bryn has returned back to Stagholt, but I can send someone to keep you company if you prefer.”
She waved her book. “I’m fine, Jakob. Go to your meeting. I’ll be right here.”
Her mouth was suddenly full of sawdust as another lie tumbled out.
He hesitated.
He knows! Just tell him. Mallory remained quiet despite the orders that came from her brain.
His thumb brushed against her knuckles, as if he committed the feel of her to memory. Then duty won, as it always did. He turned and strode after the runner, boots striking stone, already gone.
The moment he disappeared down the corridor, the world tilted.
This was it. Her phone almost immediately dinged a new text.
Mallory sat frozen for a heartbeat while she listened to the echo of Jakob’s footsteps fade. Guilt surged hot and sharp. She hated what she was about to do. Hated the deception. Hated that she was walking away from the one person who would tear the world apart to keep her safe.
But Meg’s face rose in her mind, fierce and laughing and stubborn, the way she’d always been. Her big sister, who had joined her in getting into trouble a hundred times without hesitation.
Sisterhood burned hotter than guilt, and Mallory moved as soon as all was silent again.
She returned to her chambers and had to force herself not to run.
Inside, she shut the door and leaned against it.
Her chest heaved and her hands shook as she pulled out the thickest coat she had and tied her hair back.
She slid into her boots and grabbed her gloves and scarf and cracked her door open. Every sound outside made her flinch.
Dusk had fully bled into night and the shadows in the hallways had grown long and frequent. Mallory slipped out into the corridor and moved like a ghost. She chose servants’ passages and narrow stairwells that she had memorized during her wanderings and time spent with Jakob.
Her heart hammered so loudly she was certain it would give her away.
At the gate, she paused and pressed her palm to the cold stone.
For a fleeting second, she imagined Jakob when he discovered her absence, again.
She could already feel his fear, his anger, and the way his voice would break when he said her name.
Out of habit, she patted her pocket. And realized she had set her phone down when she grabbed her gloves.
“What an idiot,” she whispered to herself. She started to turn back to get it, but she couldn’t risk it. She was free at that moment, and she didn’t need to ruin the opportunity because of her forgetfulness.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to the dark. For a moment she contemplated her plan. She really should get Jakob.
But then she pulled the gate open and stepped out into the night.
The gate closed softly behind her with a quiet click, a sound that echoed in her head as she vanished into the shadows. Right or wrong, she headed straight toward the danger, toward her sister, and toward whatever waited beyond the castle walls.