He bent to address the king. “Chancellor Crombie can make the announcement, if you wish.”
King Theodore shook his head. Standing silently in the corner behind him, Talia pursed her lips in distaste. She and Crombie had never gotten along.
“It was her choice,” the king said softly. “Beatrice’s injury was the result of her efforts to help another in need. She never resented that choice.”
Danielle would have to send word to the undine. Beatrice had saved the life of the mermaid queen Lannadae. Lannadae would want to know of Beatrice’s passing.
Armand’s hand tightened around Danielle’s. “Where is your friend Snow? She deserves to be here as well.”
Talia’s scowl deepened. “Snow had… other duties to attend to.”
“What duties?” Danielle asked. The prisoners had been taken care of, and Snow had no further responsibilities. Even if she had, Snow would have ignored her duties without a second thought to be here with Beatrice.
Distant crying from the hallway drew her attention toward the door.
“Jakob,” said Danielle. The sound was coming closer.
“He’s supposed to be napping.” Armand opened the door and peered into the hall. “Nicolette has him.”
“He knows,” she said. Even as a baby, Jakob had shown signs of inheriting his grandmother’s visions, seeing things he couldn’t have possibly understood. He had cried the day the mermaid stabbed Beatrice, refusing to settle down until Danielle and Armand returned to the palace with the queen’s unconscious body.
Servants had already begun to gather in the hallway, waiting for news. When Danielle stepped out to take her son from Nicolette, Jakob kicked and twisted in her arms, trying to peek into the room.
“He kept asking about the queen.” Nicolette was making an obvious effort not to peer past Danielle. “When he wouldn’t go back down, I thought perhaps-”
“It’s all right,” Danielle said. Jakob had awoken only a short time ago. His hair was a sweaty mess, and red lines from the wrinkles in his sheets marked the right side of his face.
“I want Gramma,” Jakob said.
“I know you do.” Danielle moved him to one side, resting his head on her shoulder.
Nicolette shifted her feet. “Is there anything you need, Your Highness?”
Danielle heard the unspoken question. Nicolette knew Jakob well enough to trust his gifts. It wasn’t Danielle’s place to announce the queen’s passing, so she let her tears speak for her. “No, thank you.”
“God watch over her.” Nicolette bowed and turned away.
Danielle carried Jakob into the room. He squirmed in Danielle’s arms until he faced the bed. “I want Gramma,” he said again.
“So do I,” Danielle said softly. She started to say more, but a flash of light caught her eye. Something silver had fallen from the stained glass window on the far wall.
Armand followed her gaze. He stepped past the bed and picked two small fragments of glass from the carpet.
“A mirror,” Danielle said. The square pane had been the size of a small coin before it broke. This had to be one of Snow’s mirrors. She glanced at the window. A simple illusion would have concealed it as just another colored pane.
“Snow?” Armand sucked air through clenched teeth and switched the mirrors to his other hand. He stuck his index finger in his mouth, but not before Danielle saw a thin line of red where the glass had cut his skin.
Danielle had never seen one of Snow’s mirrors simply break before. Snow could use her magic to destroy them when necessary, but this was something different. She glanced at Talia. “Other duties?”
“She wouldn’t say anything more.” The concern on Talia’s face matched her own.
Armand set the broken mirror on the windowsill, then reached over to take Jakob. “Go.”
Danielle kissed him and Jakob, then stepped into the hall. The servants parted, clearing a path. For once, Danielle didn’t stop to greet them.
Talia caught Danielle by the arm after only a few steps.
“What is it?”
Talia held up her wrist, showing a copper bracelet with a small mirror in the center. A tiny web of cracks covered the mirror. Talia pushed back Danielle’s sleeve. Danielle’s bracelet had suffered the same fate. Talia carefully removed both bracelets, slipping them into a leather pouch at her belt.
Danielle’s heart pounded harder. One broken mirror was unusual, but for three to crack at the same time? “Something’s wrong.”
“Are you armed?” Talia asked.
Danielle reached beneath her overdress, pulling out an ivory-hilted dagger. Talia grunted her approval.
“Where was Snow going?” Danielle asked.
“She didn’t say, but she kept looking to the northwest tower.” Talia began to run. “She could have been heading for the royal bedchamber.”
“The secret passage in the fireplace?” Danielle guessed.
Talia glanced back. “So you found that one, did you?”
“Snow’s not as careful as you are. She leaves ash fingerprints on the hidden door leading into the armory. Who do you think ends up cleaning up after you two, anyway?”
“What about the hidden tunnel in the courtyard?”
Danielle frowned. “You’re making that up.”
“Maybe.”
Danielle did her best to keep up as Talia dodged a page, then shoved her way past an older man who was loitering in the hallway. He cursed them in passing, then gasped and bowed, begging forgiveness as he recognized Danielle. She was already past, heading for the spiral steps of the northwest tower.
When they reached the royal bedchamber, Talia flung open the door, eliciting a yelp from the chambermaid who was sweeping glass from the floor by the window.
“You realize that was Lord Grimsley you plowed through downstairs?” Danielle squeezed past Talia. “Catherine, could you please excuse us?”
“Of course, Your Highness.” Catherine whisked the last of the broken glass onto a metal shovel. “Second mirror I’ve cleaned today.”
Danielle forced a smile, working to steady both her breathing and her composure as she escorted Catherine toward the hallway. She slid the bolt into place the moment the door closed.
Talia was already ducking into the fireplace, jabbing the bricks at the back. A panel to the side of the fireplace slid open.
The stairway was short and narrow. Talia hadn’t bothered to bring a light, but the passage was so cramped it would be difficult to fall. Danielle hunched her head, keeping one hand against the stone ceiling.
They couldn’t have been more than halfway to the bottom when Talia whispered, “Wait.”
Below, the orange glow of candlelight slowly brightened, illuminating Talia’s silhouette. Talia had a knife in each hand: one held by the tip to throw, the other low and ready to strike.
“I know you’re there.” It was Snow’s voice, soft and weary. “Toss those toys at me, and I’ll turn you into a toad.”
Talia’s knives vanished into her sleeves as Snow stepped into view. Talia’s breath caught. Danielle moved closer, peering past Talia’s shoulder.
Her first thought was that Snow had been attacked. Bloodstains covered her white cloak. Bandages bound her palms, and Danielle could see cuts on her legs and torso as well. Her face was the worst. A gash across the side of her nose still oozed blood, and a large cut slashed the skin from her left eyebrow down to her cheekbone. The white of her eye had turned pure red.
Talia took the candle from Snow’s hand. “What happened? Who did this?”
“I did.” Snow examined her hands. “I was careless.”
Danielle waited, but Snow said nothing more. “Your mirrors-”
“Broken.” Snow lifted a clinking leather sack. “Shattered into a million pieces.”
“How?” demanded Talia.
“Nothing lasts forever.” Snow smiled, but it was a forced expression. “A spell went wrong. My own fault. I was too distracted.”
“What spell?” Worry and anger deepened Talia’s words. “What could be so important?”