“By having your parents beheaded?” asked Florence. She stood up now, adjusting her sleeves. “You must think me terribly wicked. No, I did nothing to implicate your family, nor do I dislike you. You are simply another face to me, dear; there is nothing to hate.”
“Why. Are. You. Here?!”
I took hold of Winnie’s hand. Winnie’s chest rose and fell in an uneven staccato, her heartbeat a war drum.
Florence watched us. “I didn’t want to seem like I was hiding. It was me who uncovered the truth, and I should be here to tell you so that it does not fall squarely on Princess Alana. For what little it may be worth to you, I am sorry.”
A firm knock rattled the door. The three of us fell quiet, and Winnie gave me one final appeal.
“Please.”
My lips thinned as I struggled to reassure her. “I’ll try to win him over.”
Winnie squeezed my arm while Florence floated by. “It may be out of your power, but it helps to know you’ll try.”
Winnie and Florence made their exit, passing Prince Nicolas on their way out. He spared neither a glance, waiting until they were gone before he came in, shutting the door firmly behind himself.
I watched him stride over, then collapse into the settee. He massaged his brow, cursing under his breath.
“Quinn has apprehended the duke,” he said finally, continuing to rub circles on his face. “I do hope Florence gave him a good time; it will be the last of such exertions for him.”
I nodded, taking a seat beside him. “What will happen to him?”
“Oh, he’ll face a trial tomorrow, and then we’ll behead him,” Nicolas answered. His frankness on the matter stunned me. “But he will spend tonight and tomorrow night pondering that fate in the dungeon.”
The fact that the castle even had a dungeon was news. Winnie must have glazed over that when giving the tour. “Winnie—”
“Your lady-in-waiting will be fine. I am not a proponent of collective punishment.”
My features were stoic. “And her parents?”
“They will join Duke Augustine on the scaffold.” Nicolas measured my response, pulling his fingers away from his forehead. I couldn’t contain my horror. “They conspired to have me murdered, Alana.”
I bit my tongue until I thought it would bleed. “Shaun Baldin was named a conspirator, but not his wife. If you don’t believe in collective punishment, why should both of them perish?”
“Elisa Baldin didn’t feign ignorance of her husband’s participation in the secession movement,” Nicolas replied. “A child may not be implicated for the actions of his or her parents, but a wife is a husband’s right hand.”
“I may not yet be your wife, but if you believe what you’ve just said, then please hear me out,” I said quickly, taking hold of his hand for emphasis. “Spare them. Only our most trusted know of what they did. There is no need to make an example of them after so many years.”
Nicolas snatched his hand away. He stood abruptly. “I cannot secure the sun and moon for you, Alana, and what you ask of me is equally impossible. You are fortunate enough to keep Winnie.”
“Winnie will be broken!” I argued, rising after him. “If you are merciful—”
“I shall have the unbreakable loyalty of your servant?” asked Nicolas. “They tried to have me killed! Aboy, Alana! I’d done them no wrong!”
“They have repented—”
“Don’t waste your breath!” Nicolas cut me off, baring his teeth. His focus shifted to something behind me. “The matter is settled.”
I hesitated, looking out the window. A small company of soldiers and Quinn surrounded one of the servant’s quarters, a littlebuilding much like the one Winnie had first taken me to. Winnie was out there, her indecipherable screams audible through the glass. A man and a woman were pulled out with more force than necessary, the former falling into the snow.
“Nicolas,” I whispered. “Please.”
A shadow fell over him. His jaw clenched visibly in the candlelight, working back and forth as his teeth ground. “I cannot rest with wolves about. They will rise when the herd is at its weakest. You speak of mercy?” His shoulders shook with one bitter, silent laugh. “You were a hermit, Alana. You don’t know what I’ve been through; you know nothing of war and treason.”
The words sank in like venom. As if I hadn’t been raised on the taste of fear. I was not a noble, and therefore I wasstupid, incapable of seeing injustice even when it showed itself profoundly. I pressed my palm against the cold glass, watching the scene below unfold with terrible clarity.
Winnie fell to her knees in the snow, her robe soaking through as she reached worthlessly for her parents. The soldiers held her back, not rough but firm. Even from here, I saw the way Winnie’s shoulders heaved. Her father, Shaun, managed to find his feet, and for one moment his hand held his daughter’s cheek before the guards pulled him away.
