We continued walking, but the anxiety made every footstep feel like I was sporting chains around my ankles. What could Quinn have told him? Had he mentioned our shared moment in my chambers?
No, that wouldn’t make sense. It would implicatehim, not me, and the prince did not seem the slightest bit frustrated with his childhood friend.
“You sent Florence to retrieve the information, and now one more person knows the truth of my past,” said Nicolas, putting an end to my attempts at solving him. The worry, however, was thereto stay. “The entire kingdom believes Alphonse was killed by bandits. You’ve created another loose end; the only ones who knew the truth were either those I named, or those who were complicit in the matter. I asked you not to betray me, Alana. Now…”
I slowed. “You gave me little choice. There are Banewights in the court. This was the only discrete way to get the information we needed… If you had a better idea for how I might go about it, you should have offered it. Or would you have preferredIseduce the information from the duke?”
“You are so damned—” He stopped himself, growling. My spirits deflated with the possibilities of insult he’d concocted in his mind. “As I said, I require space. Begone. Seek out Winnie if you must, and then wait in your bedchamber.”
Quinn gently pushed past me, refusing to meet my eyes before he caught up to Nicolas. I watched until their shadows disappeared, then veered off toward the north wing of the principal floor. It occurred to me that, despite months of living in the castle, not once had I been inside of Winnie’s bedchambers. I had no way of knowing which room belonged to Winnie, and I couldn’t exactly call out to her.
I licked my lips and made the only sound I could without using my voice, emitting a loud, tuneless whistle and waiting for response. Nothing.
I tried again, adjusting the sound so that it matched the syllables, the up-and-down of her name. I knocked on doors, turning with frustration for every sleepy-eyed noble to answer the call. Many of them were still out for drinks, their rooms emptied.
Feverish, I took hold of a decorative china vase and threw it to the floor. Its crash alerted everyone, each of them peeking into the corridor, but the manic play had worked in my favor. Winnie came out from her room in a night robe, a wild look about her, and stomped over to me barefooted.
“Gods’ graces, woman!” she hissed, quiet so that no one else might hear the improper address. “What in the hells has gotten into you?”
I seized her shoulders. Winnie’s features dropped.
“What…” she started again. “What is it, Alana?”
I took my lady-in-waiting by the hand and escorted her back downstairs, retreating into the safety of my own bedchambers. When I’d shut the door, I turned to find Florence still sitting near the window, her eyes fixed up at the moon.
“Florence!” I snapped.
“I thought I should be here,” she returned, turning to Winnie with an apology in her features. Winnie was disarmed by that, shifting her focus between us.
“Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” Winnie pleaded. “I don’t appreciate the suspense.”
Gods, where to begin? I knew I didn’t have all night, but I couldn’t fathom jumping straight to the point. Not when her parents’ fate was the punchline.
“Prince Nicolas suspected Duke Augustine of treason. I had Florence investigate him, and he…he implicated your father in the secession movement.”
Winnie’s cheeks went red. She leaned on the wall, staring forward at nothing, and was so quiet, I almost thought she’d gone into shock. “I…”
Her lips quivered, and then she looked at me.
“I meant to tell you at some point. I suppose I assumed you would hear it from someone else, but that was unfair of me—”
“He said Shaun Balden planned to help Alphonse Montfort dispose of Prince Nicolas,” Florence added, revealing my fiancé’s secrets to yet another outsider. I leered, but she ignored me.
Winnie sank as her knees gave, eventually finding the floor. After a long, heavy silence, she turned to where Florence sat.
“Perhaps you misspoke, Lady Florence. The term is ‘depose’, and my parents both have already faced their punishment for it. They admitted to their wrongdoing and begged forgiveness, and Queen Adelaide—”
“Dispose,” I confirmed, coming round to comfort her. I sat at her side. “Alphonse would have killed him, and your father conspired to destroy the evidence.”
Winnie’s eyes darkened. She turned to me with increasing panic, and though her lips moved, not a single word came out. Not one, save for a frantically whispered:“Please.”
I held her. Winnie took a ragged breath and wailed, wrapping her arms tight around me. Her nose dug into my shoulder, wet and sniffling, and a set of finely-manicured fingers clawed at my back.
“Please don’t let him kill them,” Winnie begged, pulling back and grabbing me by my arms. “My parents admitted to treason already!”
“They didn’t admit everything,” Florence contributed.
“Shut up!” Winnie screamed, rising to her feet as though she might attack the sorceress. Florence simply watched her, sipping her glass of water. “You witch! I am sure you had everything to do with this! You dislike me personally, so you wish to punish me!”
