Chapter 3 #2
Soft, barefooted steps on the thick carpet padded in the bedroom. Jade tensed slightly, ready for action if someone appeared through the door.
“No, it won’t be a problem.” The smoothness of Arabella’s voice betrayed some hidden knowledge. But silence lingered, and Alanna didn’t push the matter.
Based on information retrieved by the military, Lady Arabella had been locked in some ongoing dispute amid the conflict with Lord Grannam Venemer, the Duke of Evenshold, cousin to the prince and king.
He argued that his father—the previous king’s twin brother—had been cheated of the throne.
It had given Grannam enough of a case to gather support and add his name as a viable option.
And of course, other contenders made their intentions known, though none of them held a strong claim.
Some, such as Robert Marchand, the Earl of Southbury, had weaseled their way in.
Marchand had married a young woman in King Evrard’s direct line twenty something years his junior and almost immediately made known his case for the throne.
Other distant cousins threw their names into the fight, along with others who had no royal lineage at all but vowed to offer a fairer, stronger rule for the people than anyone of royal blood.
Because why not, when the king’s lack of an heir as he lay on his deathbed had created such contention and a potential power vacuum?
While Prince Reynauld was next and had a line in his daughters, too many people saw the weak king’s sickness and lack of child as an easy way to usher in a new system of governance.
The military was loyal to the kingdom and, therefore, the true line of succession.
They defended Reynauld and the king against any threats from those contending for the throne or even magic sympathizers.
Which meant that, though Arabella would one day be the sovereign, part of Jade’s job was to ensure that she did not usurp her father.
“What will you wear for a mask?” Alanna finally asked, reverting back to their original conversation.
Arabella hummed. “Something black. There’s a veil in my dressing room we can use to get an idea of how it might look.”
Jade bolted to the corner of the room beside the wardrobe and took cover behind the open door, peeking through the crack at the hinges, as Lady Arabella padded barefoot through the dressing room.
She wore a maroon evening gown, deep as blood against her pale skin, and her rich brown hair cascaded loosely down her back.
Alanna followed, her hands grasping the front of her teal taffeta skirts, too long for her without shoes.
Tendrils of ashy blonde-brown hair framed her face and broke free of the style she’d worn all day.
Neither woman noticed Jade as they passed through to the sitting room, little more than a shadow in the corner of the room.
That was her cue to leave.
Jade peeked through the doorway to the sitting room and saw a light click on in the dressing room opposite.
She had at least a few seconds while Arabella rummaged for the aforementioned veil.
Their ladies’ maids were likely only minutes away, so it was now or never.
Like a ghost, Jade floated through the sitting room, opening the door to the suites without a sound and closing it softly behind her.
This time, she took a staff staircase that led from the suites to the laundry rooms, since maids and valets would be on their way from the other direction.
She took unhurried, casual steps down the stairs, passing a housemaid who glanced at her curiously, but Jade didn’t acknowledge her.
At the bottom, she wound through the basement back to the staff entrance, stopping only twice when someone was in her path.
She deposited the duster and rag on a shelf of cleaning supplies before sneaking to the door and into the courtyard.
Her pickup would be beyond the boundary of the palace grounds, which meant she had a lot of open area to cover.
With all staff inside preparing for dinner or readying the family, Jade started unbuttoning the maid’s dress as soon as her skin met the warm, sticky air of a summer evening.
She returned to her other clothes tucked behind the wall of the alcove where she’d changed, but she froze when her hand met the shirt and trousers she’d hidden from sight.
On top of her now-folded pile of clothes was a piece of paper, folded into a small rectangle and marked with a symbol Jade had become increasingly familiar with: three interlocked triangles in a row over a solid line.
Jade’s breathing turned fast and shallow as she dropped the clothes and opened the letter, her fingers fumbling with the seal.
Lord Grannam is going to make a move at the masquerade. Be there.
The beat of her heart thundered in her chest as Jade’s eyes ran back over the words, scrawled in a neat, pointed hand. Another tip. And the informant knew exactly where she’d left her clothes. He always knew where to find her.
Jade had no way of knowing if the author was male, but the harshness of the penmanship lent the idea to her imagination. She threw a glance over her shoulder, almost expecting to see a figure lurking there. He had to be nearby.
She shuddered as a warm breeze fluttered the bottom of her chemise, and she suddenly felt exposed.
Jade flung the shirt over her head and yanked on her trousers and boots, wrapping herself in their sense of security.
She took the time to replace the dress on the drying line before checking her surroundings one more time and melting into the darkness.