“Yes, my lady!” she retorted, earning a laugh from her lord. Producing a scrap of paper and charcoal from elsewhere in the desk, George hastily copied the missive verbatim. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t make heads or tails of half the words, Eanraig would help.
She was halfway through when she was socked in the thigh by an invisible hand. Hildy must’ve received the same ominous signal from Dunstan, because their eyes met, wide with panic.
“Someone’s coming,” Hil hissed. “Hurry.”
“I’m not done, I need—”
“Now, George.”
A double punch to the thigh. They were fucked.
“Here.” George’s whispered demand successfully beckoned Hil to her side. She’d stared at the wall behind her father’s desk enough times to recreate it, and she thanked the fates for that when the handle twisted and the door swung open.
She didn’t breathe.
Marinos stood in the entry with a frown on his face, eyes sweeping the office from side to side, then back again. Seemingly satisfied, he stepped into the hall.
The door closed with athunk,and Hildy gasped for breath. “Hurry,” she said, hushed, before racing back to her post.
A light tap to George’s inner elbow confirmed the threat was gone, but her hands shook as she copied down the final lines.
When the task was done, she slipped the original note back where she’d found it—all the way in the corner—Isahn locked things up with a new icy key, and they left to go their separate ways.
Their forms blending into the stonework, George and Hildy slipped from the room, leaving their glamored friends on duty for a few minutes longer. The men’s false voices faded with eachstep Hildy took away from them. They’d be vulnerable until Eanraig could drop their glamors and set their bodies back to rights.
Rounding the corner to the kitchens, Hildy almost ran smack into Marinos, who slipped out from behind a pillar. Cloaked by George’s magic, he didn’t see them as they skirted past, but they shared a nervous look upon realizing he was headed back toward thetablinium.
Without preamble, Hildy shot a bang of sound down a distant hall, drawing Marinos away from Dunstan and Burke. She tugged on George’s wrist, and they took off at a jog—though George snatched her arm back to keep her breasts from bouncing. Thestrophiumbinding them only did so much.
“Go, go, go!” she panted to no one but Hildy and herself as they pushed into the kitchen where Ceadda and Ean were watching over the sleeping soldiers.
They looked at the door, opened by a ghost, and George nudged Adda’s inner arm with her touch magic, letting him know it was time to wake the men.
The women remained miraged while Ceadda awoke the guards with slaps to their faces, followed by an overly dramatized apology. He told the legionaries there’d been a gross error; they’d been served the wrong frosting—one meant for guests of the Great Assembly.
It was a good lie, one the soldiers believed without complaint.
“My sincere apologies. I feel so awful for the mix-up!” Adda laid it on thick. “I begged my friends to cover your shift. Morelli and Caruso?” He used Dunstan’s and Burke’s surnames; it was how the soldiers knew one another. “Really nice guys. They didn’t mind, said they didn’t want you two to get in trouble due to an unfortunate accident. Anyway, you can head up there now!”
The groggy and slightly confused men helped themselves to glasses of water before departing to take up their posts.
The moment the kitchen door swung closed, Hildy and George dropped their mirages, and Ean buzzed over to perch on her shoulder.
“Release the glamor on Dunstan and Burke,” she said to Ean. “Then follow the guards to make sure the exchange goes well.”
“Aye, P Georgie.” Ean flitted to the door, and Hildy shoved it open so he could zip out.
“Thanks, Adda,” George’s voice was soft as she turned back to her dear friend. He may not remember the opening banquet, but she did. Her gratitude wasn’t confined to tonight. A pure soul trapped in a terrible situation, he was always ready to go above and beyond.
“No, thankyou, George. Now, go. Don’t you have decoding to do, or something?”
“You go! Don’t you have... flour to knead, or something?”
“Flour? Do you mean dough? Gods, Georgie, you really need to spend a few minutes in the kitchen—helping—not just snacking.” Adda chuckled. “I hope you found what you need.”
“I do too.” Anticipation bubbled within George as Hildy ushered her out the side door.
twenty-one
