“All I’m suggesting is you don’t go alone,” Agnes says.
“He won’t be.” The four of us turn to find Thaddeus, Evren, and Tallulah at the entrance of the main room. “I’ll be going, Agnes,” Thaddeus says.
The three of them join us at the table. “Good morning,” Tallulah says quietly enough that only I respond with a smile. Her dark hair is braided, a few wisps brushing her defined cheekbones.
“Of course, Thaddeus.” Agnes’ voice and eyes soften, but her hands grip tightly to her skirts. “You understand a mother’s need to protect her son.”
My eyes drift back and forth between Agnes and Thaddeus. He nods, making his understanding clear.
“We leave in two days,” Thaddeus says. The seven of us cram around the small table, sipping tea and pretending like our plan isn’t absolutely impossible. “After the Autumn Moon, we’ll head to the Onyx Guild. You all may meet us there if you’d like. I have business with the Lord there and it will give us time to form yet another plan. ”
Agnes crosses her arms, nodding slightly.
“And which plan is that?” Evren asks, his voice is low and gravelly. The pinch between his brow lessens only when Tallulah takes his hand.
“The plan to get that imposter off the throne.” Thaddeus scoffs. “The Lord of the Onyx Guild is a trusted ally whose political views align with our own. He’s been informed of our arrival and looks forward to meeting the true heir.” He shoots Sorin a grin, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from making a snide remark.
“The Autumn Moon is quite the spectacle in Valebridge,” Thaddeus continues. “But because our presence has been lacking the last four years”—he cuts a glance to Tallulah who smiles—“it will be extremely important to get our story straight. I don’t know King Roman as well as I knew Silas, but from what I’ve heard, he can be a bit temperamental.”
Before I can think better of it, the chuckle is out of my mouth.
“Something funny, Sam?” Sorin asks, his eyes like daggers. Still bitter about earlier, I see. Perhaps it’s time to cut him some slack. Shaking my head, I fake a cough before reaching for my tea.
What’s funny, of course, is how similar Roman and Sorin truly sound.
“How can you be certain you can trust the Lord of the Onyx Guild?” I pour another cup of tea. I take a small sip, hiding my curling lip behind my cup. Mother, I wish we had some coffee.
“Well.” Thaddeus stretches his long, thin fingers. “When he heard of the mistreatment of Enchantresses in Valebridge, he locked up his doors just as we did.”
“Technically,” Evren interjects, “you waited an entire year before locking up.”
“And so, you pride yourself on hiding here safely?” I glance between Evren and Thaddeus. Heat rising to my cheeks and the tips of my ears. “Locking your doors and turning an eye to what’s been happening in Valebridge seemed like the best thing to do?”
The men before me share a glance, their eyes casting downward.
“And what is it that you’ve done?” Tallulah sets her cup on the table a bit harshly; it rattles against the wood top. “Have you been to Valebridge to fight against these injustices?”
I bite my tongue, the anger flooding my cheeks quickly turning to shame.
“I didn’t think so.” Her voice softens, but her stare is hardened as she keeps her sapphire eyes on Sorin and I. She pushes her dark braid over her shoulder. “Maybe it was cowardly for us to lock up, but when you’ve been beaten and shackled like an animal, you tend to have some reservations about taking a stand.”
“Tallulah, I’m sorry?—”
“We’re on the same side, Sam.” She cuts me off, but I don’t mind because she’s right. I did nothing to stop this because I kept my eyes on what was right in front of me. Loxley. “And it seems like we share the same regrets of not helping sooner.”
I glance at Sorin, his chin resting on his knuckles. He’s watching her but his eyes are so distant.
“Let’s not turn on one another now,” Tallulah says. “Not when we finally have found the courage to do something important.” She grabs Evren’s hand. “Everyone had difficult choices to make when King Silas died. What matters now is that we are all in agreement on making the right choice.”
“The right choice,” Sorin mimics, his eyes completely glazed over. Is he even awake? I nudge him under the table, and he shoots me a scowl which I return with vigor.
“Sorin will pose as Evren,” Thaddeus continues. Oblivious to mine and my brother’s silent, ridiculous war. “As long as we don’t run into any Royal Hunters as the ball?—”
“You shouldn’t,” Evren says. “Hunters aren’t allowed at the balls. Only Lords and Ladies and specifically chosen guards. Besides, you’ll be in a mask.” His green eyes meet mine for a moment.
“A mask?” Jarek asks, his hand clasped tightly to mine.
Evren nods. “Everyone will be. It’s traditionally a masquerade. A way to contain anonymity during the night's debauchery.”
