17. Gwen
GWEN
T he night had passed easily despite Gwen’s fears. She was still worried for Easton, but after their conversation, she felt a warm glow whenever she thought of him. And it was easy to drift asleep to the memory of his arms around her.
When she woke, her focus turned to one thing. There had been more than enough time for the apple to warm up to every object in Celandine’s collection. Now Gwen needed to find a way to sneak in there and steal whichever of them would let the rebels restrain the queen for the length of the wedding ceremony.
Timing was crucial. If she did it too early, the queen might discover the theft. But if she left it too late, Gwen might be swept up in wedding preparations and be unable to get away. Unless it would be better to assign the task to someone else? But who could get all the way into the queen’s bedchamber other than her supposed daughter?
Gwen’s mind went round in circles, and she still hadn’t finalized a plan when a team of seamstresses descended on her in a whirl of material, scissors, and tape measures. They took one look at the mess in her room and bore her off to an empty meeting room to complete the final fittings and measurements for her wedding gown.
Knowing she would be wearing the outfit when she married Easton, not Henry, Gwen couldn’t help taking an interest in the elegant concoction of ivory satin with a gossamer layer over the top. Looking at herself in the full-length mirror held up by one of the women, Gwen felt for the first time that she could be both a princess and herself. Princess Gwendolyn had been a mask, but perhaps it was possible for Queen Gwendolyn to be her true self.
When she finally made it back to her room, it was long past time for the midday meal. She was rewarded with the sight of a tray—the food cold but still edible. She consumed it ravenously and was still finishing the last bites when her door opened, the movement too tentative to herald Celandine’s arrival.
Gwen gulped down the final mouthful and stood to face Miriam. The captive’s face lifted when she saw Gwen.
“Oh thank goodness! Officially I’m here for the tray, but I’ve been checking every half hour, wondering when you’d return. I was starting to worry about someone seeing me popping in and out of here like a jack-in-the-box.”
Gwen’s lingering good humor from the gown and her full stomach instantly evaporated.
“What?” she asked. “What is it?”
“We’re received another order from the queen.” Miriam gathered up the dishes as she talked, placing them back on the tray. “We’re supposed to drug Prince Henry’s evening meal again, just like last time.”
Gwen sucked in a breath. “Charlotte must have used her ball to make a second deal! She should have told me!”
“Maybe she’s relying on you to handle it even without a conversation,” Miriam suggested, and Gwen felt warm at the suggestion of confidence in her abilities.
She nodded decisively. “And I will handle it. You’ll need to serve the drink, of course. We don’t want the blame coming back to any of you. But I’ll find a way to talk to Henry and warn him not to drink it.”
Miriam looked relieved, although whether at Henry’s potential escape or their own lack of involvement, Gwen wasn’t sure. Either way, she thanked the princess and hurried out of the room.
Gwen sighed and sank into the single upright chair. Plans to break into her mother’s collection of objects would have to be put on hold. It was more urgent to find a way to talk to Henry.
If only she could burrow straight through the walls. She wouldn’t have to break through very many before she reached the room holding Henry. Unfortunately, even in her bear form, solid stone walls presented a problem.
It would be easier to walk straight through his door. But Celandine was the only one with a key.
Or was she? Gwen sat up straighter. Her mother had specifically told her that she had changed Gwen’s lock while Gwen was gone. But surely she hadn’t changed every lock in the palace. Henry’s door could probably be opened with a master key, and Gwen knew from experience that copies of that could be obtained if you had the right access.
She stood. The guards were all busy doing exercises all day, leaving their barracks deserted. She smiled. Perfect.
Both the head housekeeper and the captain of the guard had a copy of the master key, and both had a healthy fear of doing anything that might bring them negative attention from Queen Celandine. They had long ago made an arrangement to keep a spare copy of the key hidden in case either of them ever lost theirs and needed to replace it quickly. Easton had been the one to discover this fact and steal the spare fourteen years ago. The captain had assumed the housekeeper had needed it and promptly had it replaced. There was every likelihood the replacement—or another subsequent version—was still in the same place.
She walked through the palace as if she belonged there, aware that hurrying would only attract attention. And she had walked the corridors aimlessly so many times that no one she encountered spared her a second look.
Her heart was still pounding when she reached the barracks, however. They were connected to the main palace by a single door, and once she had passed it, she would have no excuse for her presence.
Lingering would only increase the risk, though, so she pushed inside. Her gaze darted around the room, and she expelled her held breath. It was empty just as she’d hoped.
She hurried through the communal room and past doors leading to smaller bunk rooms, only stopping when she reached the captain’s office. Standing on tiptoes, she sighed with relief when she found the key to the room still hidden above the doorframe. The encircling mountains that trapped them away from the other kingdoms also protected them from serious threats, making it difficult for the guard force to remain vigilant for decades on end.
She let herself in and raced to his desk, her fingers fumbling as she used the same key to unlock the third drawer on the right. She pushed aside some papers and finally caught sight of it. The key.
She stuffed it in her pocket, pushing the door closed and running out again, moving even more quickly than on her way in. She flew past the bunks and out again into the main palace. She didn’t stop until she was several corridors away, the key seeming to burn in her pocket.
Gwen stopped and rested her back on the cool stone wall, sucking in lungfuls of air. The key wasn’t really hot, and it didn’t blaze with light to attract the attention of anyone who saw her. There was nothing to indicate its presence in her pocket.
Even so, she didn’t have the nerves for any more waiting. She would go straight to Henry.
She retraced her steps, seeming to reach Henry’s door much more quickly than she had managed the route in the other direction. She almost missed the lock on her first try, but eventually the key slid in and turned with a satisfying clunk.
She didn’t make the mistake of rushing straight in, though. Opening the door only a crack, she put her mouth against it and whispered into the room, “It’s Gwen! Don’t attack!”
Only then did she push the door the rest of the way open and step warily inside, looking for candlesticks despite her warning.
Henry stood several steps away, his arms crossed and his shoulders tense. At least he made no move to attack her.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I wouldn’t dare attack anyone. Not when the queen might have Charlotte in her clutches.”
Gwen shut the door behind her, her eyes softening. “Don’t worry,” she said hurriedly. “She got away. If you’ve seen guards running laps outside or sparring endlessly all day, that’s punishment for letting her slip past them.”
Henry staggered back, sinking into a chair and covering his face. “Oh, thank goodness,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry I didn’t manage to come to you sooner,” Gwen said. “It was a risk, so I didn’t…But I should have…”
Henry looked up, the momentary weakness of his relief already passed. “So why are you here now if not to reassure me? Has something happened? Do you need me to do something? Charlotte made me promise to listen to whatever you said and help you.”
Gwen felt another surge of gratitude for her friend’s trust.
“I think Charlotte must be coming back,” she said, making Henry’s eyes brighten and then dim again.
“She shouldn’t risk that,” he said harshly.
Gwen grimaced. “I’m afraid she didn’t discuss it with me, so I didn’t have an opportunity to talk her out of it. But the queen had you drugged last time Charlotte made a deal to spend the night with you, and now she’s given the order for you to be drugged again.”
“Drugged?” Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what happened? I woke up to Charlotte at my side, but we didn’t have time for her to explain anything. I’ve been utterly confused as to what happened.”
“She was with you all night,” Gwen said softly. “But you were drugged so she couldn’t have woken you.”
Gwen turned away from the expression on Henry’s face, feeling as if she were intruding on his private emotions.
“She lay at my side all night?”
She turned back at the soft smile in his voice.
“The sleeping draft will be in the drink,” she said. “You have to pretend to drink it and then pretend to fall asleep. The servants won’t say anything about taking away a full glass, but if you can find a way to drain it somehow that would be even better.”
He was nodding as she spoke, his face creased in concentration.
“If you can avoid being drugged, you’ll have the whole night together,” Gwen continued. “And Charlotte will know more about the rebel plans than I do. She can tell you everything that’s going to happen and what they need you to do.”
The more she thought about it, the more she thought that must be the reason Charlotte had made a second bargain. There must be important information the rebels needed to pass to Henry. She just wished there was a way for her to talk to her friend and get more information herself.
“So all I have to do—” Henry started only to break off as the door was thrust violently open.
Gwen flinched, but there was no time to attempt to hide. By the time she’d even processed what was happening, Celandine was standing in the doorway, looking between them.
“Well, well, well,” she said. “I’d like to say I’m surprised, but that wouldn’t be true.”
Gwen’s mind raced, trying to think of an excuse for her presence, but her thoughts kept tripping over each other as she wondered how long the queen had been out there. How much had she overheard?
“So you came to warn the prince not to drink his drugged drink tonight,” Celandine said coolly. Her eyes narrowed. “I’m disappointed in you, Gwendolyn. I gave you a second chance, despite my better judgment, and this is how you repay me?”
“How—” Gwen gaped at the queen, despair filling her as she realized she had no way to fix the situation.
Henry stepped forward, his attitude menacing now he knew Charlotte wasn’t in the palace. But the queen glanced at him with such dismissal Gwen felt sick.
“Oh, stand down, brave boy,” she drawled. “Your precious Charlotte may have slipped through my hands last time, but I’ll have her soon enough.”
Henry froze, his muscles stiffening.
Celandine’s eyes went back to Gwen. “That’s right. I know all about the rebels’ plans. There are still some people left in this city who know where their best interests lie.”
Gwen’s heart sank. A traitor among the rebels? She forgot all about Charlotte for a moment, her mind full of Easton. If only she had some way to warn him!
“What I didn’t know,” the queen continued, “was whether my servants were part of the conspiracy. And so I set up this little test.”
Gwen gaped at her. It had all been a test? The servants had warned her about the queen’s command because Gwen had asked them to. She had kept them a secret from the count and his rebels only to betray them directly to the queen.
Tears burned her eyes, her breath catching. Whatever happened to them now was her fault.
“Your mistake, Gwendolyn,” the queen said with venom in her voice, “was looking to anyone other than me. You will only let others down and betray them. It’s in your nature.”
Gwen sunk in on herself, her mind shrinking inward as the queen’s words reverberated in her head. But deep inside, she found something different.
There were other voices inside now. Easton’s words of love and confidence. Charlotte’s words of friendship and trust. Even the count’s as he declared he had been waiting for her because she was the queen they needed. When there had been no voice but Celandine’s, Gwen had been unable to push her words out, no matter how hard she tried. But now there were other words filling those spaces instead. The hollow inside Gwen was no longer empty, and it had no room for Celandine’s lies.
She raised her eyes, her shoulders straightening.
“No,” she said firmly, the word complete and final in itself.
The queen’s eyes widened, and a flash of fury crossed her face, the emotion seeming to catch Celandine off guard as much as it did Gwen.
She stepped forward and grabbed Gwen’s ear, twisting it until Gwen cried out. When she pulled, Gwen had to follow, the pain forcing her limbs to comply.
Henry tried to intervene, but Celandine had Gwen out of the door too fast, shutting it in the prince’s face and turning the key in the lock.
Tears leaked from Gwen’s eyes as Celandine dragged her down the corridor.
“I will deal with the servants soon enough,” she hissed. “But first I’m going to deal with you.”