She speaks again. “What is all this nonsense about?”
“When was the last time you saw Marybeth?”
“Oh, am I being interrogated now?” she says with a huff.
“Knowing the answer might help my mission.”
“Over a week ago,” she finally says. “The girl requested time away to go to Greenhollow.”
“What’s in Greenhollow?” I recognize the name of the town. It isn’t far from Larklawn.
“Her family lives there.” She gives a flippant flutter of her hand. “Or something like that. She claimed grief over Astrid’s disappearance and said she needed time with her loved ones.”
“She hasn’t returned?”
“No. Are you telling me that human girl has been harboring my stepdaughter?”
It takes me a few moments to decide how to answer. I could tell her the truth—that Marybeth confessed to poisoning the king at the command of another. If Tris’ only crime is believing her stepdaughter guilty of murder and wanting her swiftly punished, then sharing what I know about Marybeth could get her to cooperate. It might even convince her to revoke my bargain and turn her misplaced hatred toward the guilty party instead.
Then again, would Tris believe me if I told her? Her hatred for her stepdaughter might be so strong that suggesting I believe Astrid was framed might only enrage her. She could refuse to believe Marybeth’s confession had been anything but a lie. She could accuse me of being taken in by her scheming stepdaughter and send someone else to finish my job instead. Someone worse than me.
If Trisisguilty and is using deception to keep from admitting any involvement with the lady’s maid, then telling her how much I know would certainly do more harm than good.
I cannot show my hand until I’m certain of winning. That means I need to find Marybeth and get her to prove who she’s working for. In the meantime, I must keep Tris from getting too keen on what I’m really doing.
“What I know for certain,” I say, every word carefully calculated, “is that Marybeth attempted to interfere with my capture of Miss Snow. She went to great lengths to try and prevent me from succeeding at taking her.”
“What a deceitful little harpy,” Tris says. “If she went to Irridae, then she lied to my face. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the wretch who snuck Astrid out of the palace in the first place. I’m willing to bet they’ve been working together all along.”
It takes all my restraint to keep my hands from curling into fists. “Is there anything else you can tell me about Marybeth? Her surname? What family she comes from?”
“No,” Tris says curtly.
Her answer sends me bristling. This is the first hint she’s shown in favor of her guilt. If she refuses to cooperate regarding Marybeth…
“Is there anyone in the palace who might know more about her?” I ask, then quickly add, “If Marybeth were harboring Astrid, more information could help find her.” Not exactly a lie…if thatwerethe case. Thank the All of All I’m able to evade the truth with clever wording.
Tris shrugs. “Ask my steward. She might have information on her. My stepdaughter’s lady’s maid has never been someone to concern myself with.”
“Very well,” I say. “I’ll speak with your steward before I depart.”
“Though perhaps I should have been concerned,” she says as if I hadn’t spoken. “You know, I didn’t want a human girl serving as Astrid’s lady’s maid in the first place. If I’d had my way, I would have appointed one of my nieces to the job. But Edmund insisted—” Tris’ voice breaks, and her scent constricts with a grief so deep it nearly chokes me. Her wings droop.
She shakes her head, but it does nothing to diminish the note of sorrow in her scent profile. “Regardless, Huntsman, seek whatever information you need to find my stepdaughter. But first, tell me what Marybeth has to do with your Chariot.”
I don’t have to feign my indignation when I confess the next part. “She broke into my hotel room at the Seven Sins and stole it while it was charging under starlight.”
Her eyes go steely. “You lost the Chariot to ahuman girl?”
“I have every intention of getting it back.”
“Be sure that you do. If you don’t, you’ll fail our second bargain.”
I clench my jaw. “Understood.”
“I hope you do understand. Your life depends on fulfilling two bargains now. You know what will happen if you break either one. You will die, Huntsman, and I will not shed a tear for you. But if you bring me Astrid’s heart, I’ll end your sentence, just as I said I would. I’ll even be merciful and revoke our second bargain should it prove impossible to retrieve the Chariot. That, however, is the only mercy you’ll get from me. If you fail our second bargain, I’ll sell Davenport Estate to the highest bidder. And I’ll make sure the bid is high indeed. That way, you might earn freedom with our first bargain, but you’ll never earn enough to buy back what you lost. So if I were you, I’d get on with finding that Chariot as soon as you’ve killed my murderous stepdaughter. You only have one week left.”
“I’m aware.”
