Dinner is a small feast with a newly arrived party of nobles. Once I’ve had my share of smiling placidly I tell Stefan and Ezebo I wish to retire early. Ezebo bids me good night and reminds me that Stefan and I are to share a private breakfast the next morning.
“What do you think of my son?” he asks hopefully.
“I don’t believe I have the words to describe just how I feel about him,” I say, in what I hope is a sweet tone.
After I’m in my chambers and I’ve waved off Milly’s offer to help me undress, I put on my servant clothes and begin filling a purse with the gems I ripped from Wilha’s gowns. I leave her mask sitting on an armchair, since it’s too conspicuous to sell. I almost take the bracelet off and leave it behind as well, but decide against it. If Stefan values it so little, I’ll sell it the first chance I get. After I’ve stuffed the purse until it’s bursting at the seams, I take the ribbons out of my hair and then sink into an armchair to warm myself in front of the fire.
And I wait.
Much later, long after the fire has died out, I grab a candle from my desk and press my finger to the hidden opal. The wall slides open, revealing the passageway, and I step into the dark tunnel. Tonight I’ll travel it the entire way and hope that it takes me far away from the castle. But I hesitate. When I reach the spot I went through my first night here, the door with the gargoyle handle beckons.
What could it hurt, just to try opening the door? If there is valuable information inside, maybe I can use it to my advantage somehow. I hear Cordon’s voice in my head, urging me to be cautious and not to go looking for trouble. To get out of the castle as fast as I can and run. But whatever is behind that locked door is something the Strassburgs obviously don’t want me to see. So much so they haven’t allowed me back down that corridor since the day I first had tea with Genevieve.
And that, more than anything else, convinces me I have to try to open it.
The castle corridor is empty, and I have my hand on the gargoyle door handle when I hear muffled footsteps behind me, and a voice I know all too well. “Looking for something?”
You’ve got to be kidding me. I paste a pleasant smile on my face and turn around. Stefan is looking at me with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. A nice change, I think, from the way he glowered at me earlier.
“Just on my way to the kitchen for a snack,” I say, affecting my breezy, whispering voice and hoping he won’t recognize me. I’m careful not to curtsy, not to let on that I know he is actually the crown prince. “The cook served seafood again tonight and I couldn’t eat it.”
“And that requires you to be in this corridor, how exactly?” He steps forward. “Curious that I again find you standing beside this room. A room you know you are forbidden to enter.”
“Curious, exactly! I can’t stand it for anything. I hate it when other people keep secrets. I so wish I could see inside”—I clasp my hand to my chest in feigned enthusiasm—“and I thought I could bring back a juicy bit of gossip to my lady.”
Immediately, I realize my mistake. As my hand rests against my chest the pearl and ruby bracelet clinks into view, glinting in the flickering candlelight.
Stefan’s eyes stray to the bracelet, widening as shock, and then anger, twists his features. “It was you all along,” he says.
“I’m—I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”
“Really?” His voice drips venom. “Or are you now about to tell me that you stole that bracelet from the princess?”
“I didn’t steal anything,” I say, realizing my last chance to flee the castle is fading. “I saw the bracelet lying on the floor, and I picked it up. I intended to give it back, I did.”
“Every word out of your mouth is a lie.” He practically spits the words.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I am sure you do not. Shall we go to the Masked Princess’s room, then, and you can tell her yourself. . . . You do not look so eager to go. Why is that? Perhaps because we both know we shall find the room empty?”
“Stefan, I can explain,” I say, dropping my bubbly voice. “I’m sorry, I just—”
“You’re sorry? For what? For being a liar and a traitor? Your lost servant girl act was quite convincing the other night. So much so I actually found myself wondering . . . that is to say, I fell for it completely.”
“Stefan, I’m sorry. In all honesty I—”
“Honesty?” He scoffs. “Do you even know the word? You stand here, before a forbidden door, dressed in traveling clothes.” He grabs my arm, and in the dim light I see the fury in his eyes. “Who were you going to meet?”
“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about—”
“After you got whatever information you think is inside that room, what were you going to do? Pay someone to take it back to your father the king? Or were you going to flee back to Galandria entirely? Did the Andewyns ever have any intention of honoring the treaty, or are you only just now deciding that I do not suit you?”
“Please Stefan I—”
“Here, I’ll show you.” He removes a key, and unlocks the door. Then he wrenches it open and gestures me inside.
The room is strangely empty, save for a long wooden table in the middle. Stefan yanks me forward. “If you are so curious, look for yourself.”
Strewn across the table are large parchments. I stare at them, trying to make sense of all the sketches I see. They seem to be plans for a building of some sort.
I look up. “I don’t understand.”
Stefan won’t return my gaze. He stares at the table; the fight seems to have left him. “My father and I have been secretly meeting with our masons. Ground was just broken on a new castle—a new palace. It will be several years before it’s completed, of course. But one day”—he grimaces—“one day you and I will live there together as husband and wife. My father has long wanted to build a palace in the countryside to show Kyrenica’s emerging strength.” He drops his voice, until it’s no more than a whisper. “And we knew, after living so long in the Opal Palace, you would find our castle sandy and impoverished in comparison.” He runs a hand through his hair and his eyes seem tired. “We had hoped to surprise you with the plans at the masquerade. That is why we tried to keep you from the northern wing.”
He stares dejectedly at the plans, and I’m tempted to drop the pretense completely and tell him that this “sandy and impoverished” castle is the grandest place I’ve ever been. And that it’s certainly better than the Opal Palace, where I was treated as little more than a piece of Andewyn property.
Before I can speak, he seizes my arm. “There, you have seen it.” He ushers me toward the door.
“Stefan I—”
“Enough! Or I shall call the guards and tell them I suspect you of treason.” He pulls me along after him down the corridor and swears when he discovers the guards outside my door are sleeping. “Up!” He yells at them. “My family does not pay you to sleep.” They awaken and jump to their feet, their apologies fading as Stefan shoves me inside and closes the door behind us.
He stalks into the room, and blanches when he sees the mask sitting on an armchair. He picks it up and stares, as if enchanted.
“And to think,” he murmurs softly, “I believed the rumors. I thought the mask was because you were not beautiful to look at . . . but why, then?” He stares at the mask a moment longer before shoving it into my hands. “Wear it at all times. For I do not wish to see your face ever again.”
CHAPTER 41
ELARA
The next morning, after Milly escorts me to a small dining room near the kitchen, Cook pushes a covered plate in front of me. “The crown prince sends his regards, and wishes me to tell you he will be unable to join you this morning. Though he does hope you will enjoy your breakfast.”