Chapter Twelve
Even though the thin green dress was itchy and stained, and her hair was a complete disaster of a muddy brown color—knotted in the back—Dahlia was still glad to be on assignment.
For a time, she thought it wouldn’t happen again.
And she definitely never expected to be spying for the kingdom of Junacave.
The position she now found herself in was one that she couldn’t have planned for, in a century.
But she did have to admit that her life in her cousin’s kingdom was far better than the one she used to lead in her father’s.
The man had been a manipulative tyrant, and he’d actually treated her better than others in his wake.
Getting into the castle of Sire had been so easy that she almost expected there to be a trap waiting for her.
The security that her father took so much pride in must be of no use to the new ruler.
It was a level of overconfidence that Dahlia should have expected out of her stepmother.
She’d never been smart enough to see danger, even right in front of her.
The affair that Vallica had with Silas’ right hand, Simon, was just another example of this carelessness.
They both knew what would happen if Silas had ever found out about his wife’s extracurricular activities.
Thankfully, he had usually been too wrapped up in his own whores to pay much mind to someone else’s.
Though Dahlia knew, she had never told her father about Vallica’s affair.
She might despise the woman, but her father had deserved it.
The man hadn’t been faithful to his wife for decades.
Rounding the doorway to the kitchens, Dahlia grabbed a silver tray with Vallica’s afternoon tea and sweet cakes sitting on top.
Then balancing the tray on one arm and shoulder, she threw back the drapery between her and the throne room.
She tried to act naturally and hide the surprise on her face at the newly decorated walls and floor.
Vallica had completely covered the room in black and purple.
There were new tapestries, shields, and banners lining the walls.
The floor was covered with rugs, some in thick fur which made it hard to walk across.
Seeing as Sire’s royal colors were red and blue, it was a strange sight to see the throne draped in what Dahlia considered to be the colors of death.
Vallica was sitting on that throne, dressed to match the décor, in a tight black gown. The dress, paired with her long black hair, was causing her to blend into the seat she sat on. If not for her pale skin, she may have been invisible.
Dahlia kept reminding her own self that she also was, essentially, invisible.
Her magical disguise as a kitchenmaid was one like she had used before, in Junacave, allowing her to blend into the background and move unnoticed.
And she had disliked the dirty apron just as much then as she did now, but in order to fit into her surroundings and fool her stepmother, she would need to play the part.
Dahlia slowly set the tray down on the raised table beside Vallica and picked up the silver teapot. Carefully, she poured tea into the two cups. This was the first time she realized the tray had two cups, instead of one. Vallica must be expecting company.
Dahlia gave a quick curtsy to the queen, gritting her teeth as she did so, then disappeared behind the drapery.
She quietly picked up a crate next to the door and moved it over to sit on.
There was no way of knowing how long she would have to wait before she would get any useful information to return to Bree.
It didn’t take long though. Someone entered the throne room just a few moments later.
His voice was smooth like melted steel. Dahlia was sure right away that this was the wizard, even though she couldn’t see him.
He greeted the queen and accepted a cup of tea.
So far, he didn’t sound like the dangerous and demented person that Dahlia was envisioning.
“I can’t begin to express how delighted I am with your accomplishments, Mereck,” Vallica said.
“This is only the beginning, my queen,” he replied.
“After witnessing your power, I am eager to move on Junacave—”
“Patience, my queen. Patience. You will get your revenge and everything that you desire. The trial fires went wonderfully, and my magic should be restored very soon.”
“How soon?” Vallica wanted to move ahead as soon as possible. The wizard’s flippant response was not what she wanted to hear.
“You cannot rush these matters, I’m afraid.
I will need… three weeks, minimum… to fully restore my powers,” he lied.
He knew well that his magic would be perfectly charged once he opened a terra circle at the next full moon, tomorrow night.
He just needed to stall her a bit longer.
He still hadn’t found what he came to find and he needed more time.
“Three weeks?” Vallica balked at the wizard. “Are you sure there isn’t a way to… speed up the process?”
“No, my queen.”
Vallica didn’t reply. She knew she needed to keep the wizard happy, even if it meant delaying her plans for three more weeks.
Taking the empty cup from Mereck, she called out to a servant to retrieve the tray.
Dahlia waited a moment after Vallica called for her, to make it seem like she had been outside the room and further away.
Then she pulled back the drapery and walked over to the throne.
Dahlia was surprised by the appearance of the wizard, who Vallica had called ‘Mereck’. He had glossy blonde hair and a face that wasn’t terrible to look at, but she wouldn’t say it was handsome, either.
After getting a good look at him to memorize his face, she kept her eyes on the floor.
She knew a servant should not be caught making eye contact with anyone of importance.
It was a rule that her father had punished severely for, if broken.
Even with her eyes looking down, she could feel the wizard’s gaze.
“My, what beautiful hair you have,” Mereck called out as Dahlia turned to leave the room. She stopped and turned slowly, the tray still in her hands. She forced a curtsy then turned to leave again.
“What in the world do you mean?” Vallica said, disgusted. “Her hair is dull and tangled. Rather repulsive, really. Nothing beautiful about it.”
Dahlia wanted to run. Something was wrong and she knew it. But if she tried to flee now, it would certainly seem suspicious. She heard the wizard whisper an incantation. It may have been the same one Dagan used to reveal the disguise before, but she couldn’t be sure.
Either way, she knew it had the desired effect because before she could even blink, her step-mother shouted. Glancing down, Dahlia saw the disguise was gone and her white chemise and light yellow overdress had returned.
“You! Guards, seize her!”
Dahlia dropped the tray and started to run, but the two soldiers standing by the doorway to the throne room were quick to catch her. Each one grabbed an arm and though she was trying to fight them, it was no use. They turned her around to face the queen.
“Dahlia, Dahlia, Dahlia. I wondered when I would see you again.”
“I doubt you truly missed me, stepmother. That would require you to have a heart,” Dahlia spat.
“You may be right. For a brief moment, I may have felt pity for you, being an orphan now that your father is gone. But then you sneak into my kingdom…”
The wizard approached Dahlia with a look on his face that frightened her, as if he were about to attack.
But before he could reach her, Vallica ordered the soldiers to remove her to the dungeons.
This, she was actually grateful for. Just one more moment and she couldn’t be sure what the wizard may do to her or why.
The walk to the dungeons was sobering. It finally hit her that she had been caught. Bree would never know about the wizard and his plan to attack in three weeks. They would probably assume that Dagan was right and Dahlia had escaped with the amulet.
Having been banished to a dungeon cell once already, in Junacave, Dahlia knew what to expect.
The dirty floors, cold stone walls, and smell of body odor from whomever already occupied the neighboring cells.
She fought the soldiers the entire walk down the dungeon stairs and hallway, until the solid metal door shut her inside.
One of the soldiers laughed to the other before walking away.
Dahlia collapsed to the floor. She wouldn’t allow herself to cry but she knew what was coming. Bree may have spared her life but Vallica certainly wouldn’t. She would hang or lose her head. Either way, the result was the same.
It just didn’t make sense to her. How could the wizard have known about the disguise? Even before saying the spell? Could he have been strong enough to see right through it?
“Perhaps.”
Dahlia jerked her head up. Someone had spoken. She didn’t realize she had been thinking out loud.
“Is someone there? Who are you?” she called out.
A dark figure moved in the corner of the neighboring cell. Slowly, Dahlia stood. The figure moved closer to the thick metal bars that separated them. He stepped into the moonlight, shining in from a tiny window at the top of the wall beside him.
She could barely see his face because his dirty gray beard and hair were so long and disheveled. She stepped closer to get a better look at the man. The rags he wore hardly covered any flesh. Clearly, he had been there for a while.
In a flash, the man was up against the metal bars and had a hold on Dahlia’s skirts, pulling her toward him. For a man who looked feeble and old, he sure had a strong grip. She tried to pull away from him, but he jerked her, hard, and she flung into the cold bars.