Chapter 28
I take the secret passageway to the servants’ quarters to avoid the guards.
The passage is dark and narrow, but I am well-travelled in several of the secret pathways of the castle so I press on confidently. I sneak out of the other side, behind a large painting only a few metres from my destination—the servants' quarters.
Inez is awake when I arrive, in the middle of her breakfast with the other staff. She stands up when she sees me, her eyebrows raised.
“Miss Shivani!” she exclaims, placing her tea down. “What are you doing here? We were not expecting you.”
“I need your help,” I tell her before inclining my head in greeting to the others. “My apologies for the interruption.”
“Miss Shivani,” they greet me back with friendly waves. Vanya sits with a kitchen porter, playing cards while they eat. Her face remains stoic but she nods at me, mouth full.
“Of course,” Inez says and we leave back through the secret passageway, this time entering a different section which ends up close to my art room. It is only when we are alone and the door locked behind us that I speak.
“My apologies for interrupting your breakfast,” I say, but she waves it away.
“Is this about the king’s return? Then it is important enough to miss some toast. How can I help?”
We take a seat at the paint-filled table, and I try to organise the thoughts scattered in my brain.
“Theo—” I start before clearing my throat. “ The prince’s mother, you knew her?”
Inez is taken aback by my question, her eyebrows raised.
“The queen? Well…I suppose I did, but it was so long ago. She passed when I was a young child,” she tells me. “Why do you ask?”
I lean my head on my hand, one finger pressed against my temple.
“I am not quite sure yet but there is something about the prince’s curse which has been nagging at me,” I say, chewing my lip. “It does not make sense. We have been researching thoroughly, and there is no known curse which matches the prince’s. So how did she do it?” I pause. “ Did she do it?”
Inez tenses .
“You think the queen was not responsible?” She blinks at me, the gears turning in her brain. As if on instinct, she looks over her shoulder even though we are the only ones in the room. “Well, then, who ? Not the king, surely?”
“No…No, I do not think so. He is cruel enough, certainly, and I believe he has enough hate in his heart to perform a curse. But he is not magically inclined…is he?” I look at Inez expectantly.
“I do not believe so, miss.” She shakes her head. “He has never made anything glow purple, at the very least. But magic can be hidden, can it not?”
“Sometimes…” I sit, thinking. “No. There are not infinite types of magic, and I fully believe the king would have exploited it if he had the ability to do so. The hold he exerts over others is entirely due to his status and not a magical ability. No,” I conclude. “It could not have been the king.”
Something else catches my brain, but I cannot quite see it. What would the king do if he were magically inclined? I shake the thought away, deeming it irrelevant.
“So, it was the queen then?” Inez asks.
I make a vague sound, unconvinced.
“Would anyone else have been around or had access to the prince when he was a baby?” I ask, considering the theory of someone sneaking in while he was still in his crib .
Inez thinks for a moment before shaking her head.
“The prince has been sheltered, even within these walls,” she tells me, gesturing around us. “And the staff were prevented from assisting the queen during the birthing process.”
I give her a questioning look.
“The king believed she would survive if she was fit to.” A look of disgust crosses her face. “The young prince was kept confined for the first several years of his life, even from the staff, due to the dangerous nature of his curse.”
I sit back and ponder this.
“It was the queen then,” I say with a sigh. “It could not have been anyone else.”
Inez is quiet for a moment before speaking.
“I am sorry I could not be of more help, miss,” she says, patting my shoulder. “I was too young to remember much of the queen, and the king got rid of the staff who did know her.”
My ears prick up at this.
“He got rid of them?” I repeat. “Why?”
“The queen had many friends amongst the staff. I suppose the king did not want her allies around him after what she had done.”
My eyebrows furrow.
“So…she was well-liked?”
“Yes, miss.”
I stare at her dumbly. The queen being popular with the staff was not a thought that had ever crossed my mind. I picture her from the tales we have been told for twenty-five years and all I can see is a bitter, vindictive woman.
“But how?” I ask. “If she was this horrible wretch capable of cursing her own son?”
“I suppose a lot of evil people are quite charming when they want to be.” Inez shrugs.
“But with the staff?” I brood over this. “I cannot understand. There are so many missing parts to this story.”
Inez regards me with sympathy as I rub my temples.
“Do you want to stay for lunch, miss? I can ask Vanya to rustle something up for you,” she offers.
“No, thank you. I think I am going to clear my head,” I say, standing.
There are too many moving fragments in this puzzle, and my mind begins to slow, bogged down by it all.
“Oh, I do have something for you before you go.” Inez brightens before pulling something out of her apron.
She presents me with a small notebook bound with strong leather. It gives off a tell-tale purple glow, albeit faintly.
“Your mother’s journal?” I ask, accepting it from her. There is the slightest hesitation in Inez before she lets it go.
“Yes, I…Perhaps we can go through it together soon?” She tears her eyes away from it to give me a hopeful smile. I press the book to my chest.
“I will treat it with the utmost care, Inez,” I assure her.
The creases in Inez’s forehead smooth before she curtseys a farewell. I tuck the journal into a secure drawer in the art room, the only one which has a lock. I keep the key safe in one of the hidden pockets of my dress and make my way to Theo’s glasshouse to clear my head.
The air in the castle grows warmer, although there is still a brisk edge to it, leftover from winter. The cold season never lasts long in Mossgarde.
I climb the mountainous steps up to the greenhouse, needing a moment away from the guards. When I reach it, I find Theo already there.
He sits at the large table in the middle, several pots of soil in front of him and an open gardening book to one side. I open the door with a loud creak, and his head whips up.
“Ah.” His shoulders drop in relief, and his face brightens. “Good morrow, Shivani.”
“You are not in the library?” I ask, sitting beside him.
“I was,” he sighs. “But I was beginning to feel overwhelmed. I needed a moment.”
I smile, sympathetic.
“Apologies for disrupting your peace,” I tell him, but he shakes his head.
“I am pleased to see you.” He leans forward to press his lips against mine. No matter how often we kiss, it still causes a flutter in my stomach. “Did you find anything useful in your investigations?”
“I am afraid not. Apart from learning the queen was well-liked amongst the staff, which contradicts everything else we know.”
“She was?” Theo is as surprised by this as I was.
“Supposedly, yes. It is why your father got rid of the staff who knew her.”
Theo chews on the inside of his cheek.
“Back to the library, then?” he asks, moving away from the topic. He slots his bookmark between the pages of his book and closes it.
“Back to the library,” I confirm, rubbing an aching spot on my forehead.
We spend the rest of the day sifting through any books which even slightly appear like they may have useful information. I learn more about dragon culture, diet and religion than I ever thought I would, even when my aunt helped me to study. I think to myself, with bitter irony, I would have no issue passing the Frostalm exam now.
“Did you know tattoos are a crucial part of dragon culture and have been used for centuries?” I ask Theo.
“Yes, we found that out yesterday,” he replies, not looking up from the page. His head is leaning on one hand, his elbow propped up on the table.
“Did we?”
“We talked about how it explains my back tattoo.”
“Oh.” I remember one of our many conversations in the gloom of the library. “We did.”
Theo’s tattoo was likely a product of his curse, given the word in dragon text embedded in the swirling pattern. He had shown me his tattoo when I asked and I managed to replicate the word onto paper for us to study. It was not a familiar word to me, so I could not translate it to the common tongue, and none of the dragon books made reference to it, leaving us with another fruitless endeavour.
“I think we might be going in circles.” Theo clasps his hands and sets his brow against them. “I cannot read anymore.”
“But we must not give up,” I insist.
He raises his head.
“I know, but we cannot keep going without rest, either.” He spreads his hands, and my shoulders sag, defeated.
“You are right,” I say. “What do you suggest?”
Theo thinks for a moment.
“Meet me in the greenhouse this evening,” he says mysteriously. “I will show you.”