“Before you succumb tothine fair pillow—” he tried to match my tone “—I’d like to show you a few other places in the castle that might be useful to you.”
I groaned. “All right. Let’s make it quick.”
I followed him in a near stupor, already anticipating sleep, while he pointed out the well and the herb garden at the kitchens. We went up a flight of stairs and I brightened, wondering if he was going to show me a library a laBeauty and the Beast, but then I remembered most people were illiterate in Landsome. But what did that even mean? Sherry Whitehorse never wrote much about that. Would immense castles have just one shelf of books?
Lord Draw opened the door and I followed him in, then turned around in confusion when he shut the door behind us. It was dim inside, no oil lamps or fireplace burned. My eyes adjusted.
It was a bedroom.
I had grown so comfortable with Draw, it was a shock to find myself trapped in a room with him. I realized I felt scared. I had forgotten this was the queen’s own solicitor.
Shadows fell across his olive green eyes. “Lady Mayfair, do you know what my role at court is?”
I felt heat rise up the back of my neck. I didn’t like where this was going.
“As the solicitor, you take care of all the papers. Deeds. The sending of commandments,” I stammered.
He nodded. His face was set. High cheekbones smooth. Lips flat. “In a world where most men would rather content themselves with hitting each other with sharpened sticks, I take care of the real work. Who gets to live in what castle. What the price of grain shall be. Determine who is the greatest threat to the structures we’ve built. I’ve put myself in a position to know much about this country and its neighbors all the way to the Seas of Melancholy. And no one”—his eyes narrowed—“no onesays ‘thanks a bunch,’ or ‘good fellow,’ or has moon rings that turn colors, or an aunt who lives in Solce, where the lakesare made of fire.” He frowned. It was as if he was overcome by my own stupidity and his voice rose when he started again. “How would you even have received those lace handkerchiefs from this supposed aunt you never met?”
Shit, he was right.If I wanted to stay out of the dungeons, I needed to push back. Hard. Harder than I was used to. I put my hands on my hips, not too near my knife to be threatening but just enough to call attention to it. “If those things seem odd, it’s because you’ve never met a witch’s apprentice before. How else would I have known about last night’s attack?”
Any thought of sleep was gone. I was on full alert. If he only wanted to poke holes in my backstory, I could go all morning, wouldn’t break. Anything else...I had Madame Morningstar.
“You are a spy,” he offered. “It’s a much simpler explanation than witchcraft.”
“What about my mood ring?”
“I’ve seen tricks before. Powders and glasses that change color with temperature.”
I tried not to let him see how closely he guessed right. I could lose my head if he whispered those words to the queen.
“And,” he went on, “what would keep an amazing, powerful witch who knows everything about the future of Landsome and has the desire to see our queen succeed from coming to court herself?”
“She’s very old?”
“One more try, Mayfair.”
For the first time, I realized that the danger of Landsome was not in the physical desperation of medieval life—after all, Sorrel had said I was not going to die—but in a political misstep that would get me locked up. Or put out of the castle and made to spend cold nights in the thickets. If I was unable to complete my tasks, I would be here for a very long time. Grow old, even as life on Earth stood frozen in time. Even if Ginger wasn’t going hungry, what if I was stuck here so long I forgot about her? I had a sudden picture of myself as an ancient woman living in squalor outside the castle walls claiming a fairy had sent her to kiss Ironclaw.
If I lost my political power—I had nothing.
How far would Sorrel let these games go? When she said I was the only one in control of when I left, she had to have meant besides theobviousneed for some kind of safety backup, right?
Either way, I could call her only two more times, which meant I couldn’t afford to be so flippant anymore. I had to fix this.
Draw pointed to a pair of chairs facing a hearth and spent a moment lighting a tepee of thin logs. I perched at the edge of the chair nearest the door, ready to run if necessary, and looked around. The room felt almost sterile except the desk that was full of books, inkpots, and a few metal instruments I didn’t know the names of.
“I’m not one to jump to conclusions,” Draw said slowly as the fire bloomed in front of him, “but you have to give mesomething. Explain some of this.” He looked into my face, from where he crouched on the ground, assessing me in his measured way. “Who are you?”
He wasn’t calling the guards? I thought back to last night when he told me I had to learn to lie better. So, Draw wasn’t upset with me. He seemed...concerned? But why? He didn’t know me.
But he’s asking to, honey.It was as if Sorrel had flicked me upside the temple. Despite the fact I’d spent more time with Draw than Ironclaw since arriving in Landsome, I still didn’t think of him as an ally. I wasn’t used to making friends.
Okay, let’s see where this goes.
He sat in the other chair and the fire crackled.
“It wasn’t a witch who sent me,” I said hesitantly, “but a powerful sorceress named Sorrel. Does that name mean anything to you?”
