I glance around the room and see there is only one exit. No doubt Wolfram is just on the other side of the door. I release my grip.
“Tell me, the man you knew as Travers,” Lord Quinlan says, “did he ever say anything to you of his purpose in locating you?”
Instantly I become stone. My face is a mask, as impenetrable as the one Princess Wilhamina wears. “Is Mister Travers not his real name?”
“No. It is not.” Lord Quinlan looks at me suspiciously and says no more. He is waiting for an answer.
It’s all I can do to keep my eyes from straying to my satchel. If they returned the book, then they must not realize it came from my mother. “He said nothing to me. I never had a reason to doubt that he was anything more than a schoolteacher,” I lie, and tuck my satchel under my chair, safely out of sight.
“I find that hard to believe,” Lord Quinlan says. “All those weeks in Tulan and he said nothing to you of his plans?”
I decide to give him a portion of the truth. “In the tavern, the day he was taken, he was talking crazy and said he had wanted to tell me something but that he had waited too long. He said something similar in the dungeon, before the guards took him away. But he was sick with fever by then, and I assumed he had gone mad.”
“He was not mad, at least not completely,” says Lord Quinlan. “Mister Travers was a spy working for Lord Finley.” He pauses and stares at me expectantly.
“I don’t know who Lord Finley is or what he would want with me,” I say, but I can’t help remembering Mister Travers’s words. Lord Finley wasn’t sure where she was, but we knew if we watched him close enough, we’d eventually figure out where he hid her.
“Don’t you? Lord Finley was a former Guardian. He was, in fact, the fourth Guardian who was summoned to the palace the day you and your sister were born. Over the years, it seems his devotion to the king died. He had been plotting to overthrow King Fennrick. What others outside this room do not know is that he did not plan on claiming the crown for himself, but for another.”
“Who?” I say.
“You.”
Me? The wine, combined with gnawing hunger and lack of sleep is making me dizzy. Lord Quinlan’s features blur together, making him seem like a bejeweled slug.
“It makes sense, does it not?” he says. “Replacing one Andewyn with another? After all, it was out of fear that something very much like that would happen, which caused you to be sent away in the first place.”
“What have you done with them?” I ask. “Where did you take Mister Travers and Lord Finley?”
“I took them here,” Lord Murcendor speaks up. “I had a nice talk with Travers and Finley, and they both swore on their lives they hadn’t had enough time to tell you of your true identity. Appropriate, as it was their lives we eventually took from them.”
I feel nauseous, and not just from lack of food. I swallow back the bile rising to my throat.
“We had been under the impression we had captured all of Lord Finley’s supporters,” Lord Quinlan speaks up. “This of course, was before the assassination attempt in Eleanor Square.”
At this, Lord Murcendor opens his mouth as if to disagree, and then seems to reconsider and closes it again.
“We know Lord Finley intended to place you on the throne,” Lord Quinlan says. “What we don’t know, is if you decided to join them.”
“Absolutely not,” I answer. “He never asked me to join him, and I never agreed to anything. I have no idea if some of Lord Finley’s men were behind the attack. But I do know I had nothing to do with it.”
“I see,” Lord Quinlan says. He stands up, walks to the door, and opens it. Wolfram enters, holding a lit candle.
“Light them,” Lord Quinlan commands.
Wolfram nods. He raises his candle and begins to light torches mounted along the room. As the light grows, pictures on the stone walls come into focus.
They are pictures of death. Death by strangulation. Death by hanging. Death by fire. A hundred paintings, rendering a hundred brutal deaths. What artist was commissioned to paint such scenes? I turn away, unable to continue looking.
Wolfram, finished with lighting the torches, exits the room.
Lord Quinlan looks at Lord Murcendor. “See that she is properly persuaded.” And with that, he steps out.
Properly persuaded? I swallow thickly, thankful I haven’t eaten anything yet. “Where did Lord Quinlan go?”
“He prefers to let others do his dirty work,” Lord Murcendor says as he refills my goblet. “The king is currently unconscious. But if he awakens, how do you think he will feel when he discovers his long-lost daughter may have been working to depose him in order to see herself crowned queen?”
“I told you, I didn’t know of Finley’s plans.”
“There is no way for us to know that. The only way is for you to prove your loyalty.”
“Prove my loyalty?” My stomach roils as the meaning of his words becomes clear. “By posing as Wilha’s decoy, you mean?”
He nods. “With the assassination attempt, there is great concern over the princess traveling to Kyrenica.” He picks up an apple and begins slicing it with his dagger.
I take a small sip of wine, trying to stall for time. He starts eating the apple slices, and I look longingly at the feast. My mouth waters, and I wish he would invite me to eat. But I shake myself. I know what he is trying to do, and I can’t let myself become distracted. I need to stay alert. I saw the arrows flying toward the Andewyns myself. This is no small thing they are asking.
“Won’t the king object?” I ask, trying to think of a way out of this. “If he wanted me back so badly—wouldn’t he object to sending both his daughters to Kyrenica?”
“I think not. Sixteen years ago, the king and queen sent you into obscurity to protect the kingdom. If he were conscious enough to do so, I believe he would be the first to volunteer you now for this task.” He sips his wine and continues. “There are two ways to look at this. One is that you were working with Lord Finley’s men to assassinate your own family and attempted to flee when we brought you to the Guardians’ Chambers for questioning. The other is that upon learning of your true identity, you immediately agreed to protect your sister in her time of need.” He leans back in his chair. “Which scenario do you suppose will sit better with the king?”
“I know nothing about being a princess,” I say.
“You can learn. I have watched the games you and the Lady Ogden have played. I am certain you can assume any role required of you. If you arrive safely in Kyrenica, you are to serve as the Masked Princess and Wilha will pose as your maid until it is determined that the Strassburgs mean no harm to your sister.”
“But if Wilha serves as my maid,” I say, thinking fast, “they will see her face. Won’t they think it strange that my maid looks exactly like the Masked Princess?”
“Royalty rarely pays any attention to their servants. And you will be wearing the mask, which you are not to remove. They should have no indication of what the Masked Princess looks like. And your stay in Korynth will be short-lived. King Ezebo is planning a masquerade to formally introduce Wilha to Kyrenican society. Lord Quinlan, Lord Royce, and I have agreed to attend. Once we have seen for ourselves that the Strassburgs mean Wilha no harm, you two can switch back. Serve your sister, and when we return you to Galandria you will be given a new life, filled with more wealth than you could possibly imagine.”
“You mean, you’ll give me a new life, if I’m not assassinated on the road or in the Kyrenican Castle.”