CHAPTER 29
ELARA
If I don’t find Wilha soon, I may well be executed. The lie I told about the missing maid has bought me time, but how much? How long before someone suspects it’s not the maid who has gone missing, but the princess herself?
I’ve been stuck in Wilha’s chambers the entire night, but she hasn’t returned. The only person I’ve seen at all is a timid maid who visited to tell me that the search of the castle had ended, and my missing servant hadn’t been found.
“King Ezebo has returned, and I have been asked to tell you that you need to remain in your chambers this evening. He’s entertaining a large party of nobles who have come to stay a few nights at the castle, and doesn’t yet wish to an-nounce your presence in the city. Tomorrow he promises to receive you properly,” she finished, before quickly leaving.
As the evening has given way to night I’ve passed the hours sitting in front of the fire or clawing at the wall in Wilha’s room, trying to gain entrance to the passageway, and wishing I’d paid more attention to how Arianne opened the tunnel in the Opal Palace.
Wilha may not have gone far. For all I know, she’s been stuck on the other side this whole time trying to get back in. I put my ear to the wall and knock softly. I don’t hear anything, but then again, the wall seems thick.
Wilha opened the passageway seemingly without too much difficulty. There has to be a way in, something I’m not seeing. . . .
She pressed something to make the wall slide back, I remember suddenly. Something lower to the ground. I crouch down on my hands and knees, pressing my fingers to the wall. After several minutes, I spot a small smooth stone—is it an opal?
I press it and the wall slides back, revealing the passageway. Once my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see a row of mounted torches. Quickly, I stride back to the sitting room. I stick a piece of kindling into the fire until it ignites, then carry it back to Wilha’s bedroom and light the first few torches.
I’m about to step into the passageway when I pause. I don’t know where the tunnel leads. I only know I need to find Wilha, or get out of this castle—preferably both. But if I’m caught, it will attract no small amount of attention if I’m dressed as the Masked Princess. Quickly, I untie my gold-threaded mask and throw on my cloak, thankful that I still haven’t changed out of my traveling clothes.
I remove the first torch from its mount and decide to leave the passageway open. The tunnel is so dark; I want the candlelight from Wilha’s room—dim though it is—to guide me.
I flip up the hood of my cloak and move deeper into the tunnel. It’s not long before I come to a door, but I pass it quickly. Wilha had been in such a hurry, I don’t think she would have taken the first exit offered to her. After a few more minutes of walking, the torchlight glints off of something small on the ground. I crouch down and see it’s a small opal earring, one that I had stuffed into my satchel. The earring is lying next to a door. Did Wilha exit the passageway here?
I search around and find another opal in the wall and press on it. The wall slides back. I’m greeted with more darkness and see that I’m staring at the back of a floor-length tapestry. I extinguish my torch, leave it in the passageway, and step out from around the tapestry. It appears as though I’m in a small receiving room of sorts. I cross the room quickly and cautiously open the first door I see, but draw back immediately.
A boy who looks to be a few years older than me is exiting another room just across the corridor. As noiselessly as possible, I hurry back to the tapestry. After several minutes, I decide he didn’t see me, and venture out again.
The corridor is deserted. The only light comes from several flickering sconces lining the walls. If Wilha came this way, where would she go? I look over to the door the boy exited, thinking that maybe she wouldn’t have wanted to be so exposed in the hallway. I cross the corridor and grasp the door handle, which is shaped like a gargoyle, and I’m about to push it open when—
“What do you think you’re doing?”
I jump and turn around. At the end of the hall is the boy. His hand is on the hilt of his sword, which hangs at his waist.
“I said, what are you doing?” He walks a few steps closer, passing into the glow of sconced candlelight. He is tall and tanned with golden blond hair and a strong jaw. But despite his good looks, his hair is disheveled and his clothes are dusty and dirty. All in all, it looks to me like he’s a squire in need of a bath. A really long one. When he gets closer he draws his sword and points it at me.
Don’t panic, I tell myself. I loosen my shoulders.
“You can put that down,” I say, in a breathless but bubbly voice. “I promise not to hurt you.”
A hint of a smile plays on his lips. “Thank you for assuring me,” he says and turns serious again. “I am wondering, though, why you are sneaking around. This corridor is part of the Strassburgs’ private rooms. It is off limits to most of the palace staff.”
“Maybe you could help me then,” I say, thinking fast. “My lady and I only arrived at the castle tonight, and she has sent me to the kitchen—a healthy appetite, she has—and I’ve been wandering around trying to find it.”
“Who is your lady?” he asks, looking suspicious.
“Um, the spoiled one.”
At this, he grins and sheaths his sword. “Most of them are.”
“So do you know where the kitchen is?” I repeat, feeling I have no choice but to embrace my lie.
“I do. I will take you there now.”
“No, that’s quite all right. You don’t have to accompany me. If you point me in the right direction, I’ll be on my way.”
“It is not a bother. And besides,” he adds with a pointed look, “that way I can make sure you get where you need to go.”
He sets off down the corridor, and I have to run to keep up with his long strides.
“Are you a servant here?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he replies. “I have only just arrived.”
When we reach the kitchen, he offers me a seat at a small wooden table next to a fireplace, where embers glow the color of a fiery sunset.
“This is where Cook takes her meals. I will stoke the fire and find some food.”
“Won’t we get in trouble?” I ask, though I’m not worried about a scolding from the kitchen staff. Wandering around the castle with a servant—a servant who’s seen my face—seems like a dangerous game. And I still need to find Wilha.
“No one else is up at this hour,” he answers. “And I am one of her favorites.” He closes a cupboard and brings me a bowl of soup. “There is not much left. This is all I can offer your lady.”
“That’s all right.”
“Are you sure you are not the one who is hungry?” he asks, after my stomach growls.
“I’m, well . . . yes, I’m a little hungry, actually,” I admit. “I found I couldn’t eat much of what was served at dinner.”
“And what was that?”
“Tuna eyes,” I say. The maid brought dinner to me when she informed me the search of the castle had finished. And while I was thankful for the meal, a meal someone else cooked, and served in a portion larger than I ever would have received at Ogden Manor, I couldn’t bring myself to try it. Not with those wiggly black eyes staring up at me. I ended up disposing of the food in the fire after the maid left.
“Ah, tuna eyes. Yes, I think I would be tempted to skip dinner as well.” He laughs a deep, throaty laugh, and I feel myself beginning to relax more. He pushes the bowl of soup toward me. “Eat. There is still enough left for your lady.” He stares at me expectantly. My stomach rumbles again, and I decide there’s no harm in it.