Kuni would not be a trapped fly, trembling in place as she awaited his return. She had her own web to weave. The king’s approval to capture. A princess of her own to defend to the death.
It was time to go to work.
16
Graham tore his gaze from the carriage window only after the house faded from view. He turned toward his siblings, who were already deep in a discussion about acquiring signatures for the petition.
“How do you think it’s going back home?” he interrupted with an air of affected casualness.
Tommy arched her brows. “We’ve been gone for fifteen minutes.”
“Exactly.” Graham looked at Jacob. Surely his brother would understand the risks.
Jacob inclined his head. “Fifteen minutes is plenty of time for mayhem. Marjorie—”
“I’m not talking about Marjorie,” Graham said in exasperation.
Philippa tilted her head. “Then which of our two fierce, armed warriors are you worried about?”
All four of them stared at each other for a moment before saying in unison, “Both.”
“Can you imagine if they joined forces?” Philippa whispered. “Dangerous on their own, but together…”
“It’s a big house.” Tommy glanced out the window. “Not that Kunigunde will be moping around it anyway. She has her own mission.”
“Everything will be fine as long as they keep out of each other’s path,” Jacob said with confidence.
“That should be simple enough,” Tommy assured Graham. “Kunigunde doesn’t want help, and Elizabeth doesn’t like people. They’ll never see each other.”
Philippa and Jacob exchanged silent glances.
“Mayhem,” Graham muttered and turned his gaze back to the window.
***
After the maid refreshed her braids, Kuni stepped out of the Wynchesters’ home and into the brisk April sunlight. A footman stood at the ready.
Asking the Wynchesters’ butler, Randall, to summon a carriage had felt strange. Kuni wasn’t used to having to ask for things.
The Wynchesters were friendly with their staff, but she couldn’t recall Princess Mechtilda addressing a servant with anything but a direct order. The princess could name few maids or footmen. However, she and her companions recognized many of the handsome Royal Guardsmen by name. Those elite infantry soldiers in their distinctive amaranth uniforms commanded universal attention and respect.
Soon, Kuni would wear that uniform, too.
Wheels crunched on gravel and a clean black carriage pulled up to collect her. It was not as fine as the Balcovian royal family’s ridiculously ostentatious coach, but would serve just the same.
She ignored the odd emptiness in her chest at entering an empty carriage by herself instead of preparing to trundle along hip to hip with Graham. Silly to miss a sensation she’d never known.
A footman opened the door.
Kuni started forward, only for the shaft of a bejeweled cane to swing up and block her path.
She shoved the cane away and turned to face Elizabeth Wynchester. “I amnotgoing to sit around your house sewing decorative samplers.”
Elizabeth stared at her. “Why would anyone pick up a needle when they could pick up a sword?”
Kuni felt much the same way. And would indeed carry a sword when she became a Royal Guard. “I have limited time. Please let me pass. Your brother gave me permission to borrow any of the coaches I please, but I am happy to pay for the favor.”
Elizabeth waved this away. “I don’t give a button about your money. I’m going with you.”
