“I’ll take the body,” I offer. It should be me. I’m the only one who can safely do so. No one protests as I move to lift the man. It’s not the first time I’ve shouldered the weight of someone lost to the rot. A servant I recognize from my years in the palace steps forward to help, but I wave him off and tell him instead to lead me to where we should place the body.
I deposit the deceased man in the palace’s medical clinic and wash up, scrubbing any trace of rot from my hands. The servant brings me fresh clothing from my rooms, and I change. It’s imperative that I keep all traces of the rot from spreading further. After removing the key to Gen’s secret staircase, I toss my soiled clothing into the incinerator.
Once finished, I return to my own rooms, but I’m so filled with restlessness that I know I won’t be able to sleep. It’s not as though I sleep on a good night, anyway. The key to Gen’s room sits on my bedside table, and I keep looking at it, wondering if she’s still awake.
Wondering if she’s thinking of me, even now. I shouldn’t be having thoughts of her—not when I’ve vowed to break her heart and ruin her. Perhaps I’ve misjudged her influence in this country. Even so, her willful ignorance of her kingdom’s problems is inexcusable.
But I can’t stop thinking of her.
I pick up the key, study the old brass design, then set it back down. Only moments later, I retrieve it and slide it into my pocket before heading for the door.
I just want to see her, to know if she’s still awake. I could share what I know about the rot and how it spreads.
The night is late, and the palace is silent as I make my way through the gardens, plucking a few stray rose blooms as I go.
The secret door creaks as I turn the key in the lock, the stairwell humid and damp. At the top of the stairs, I ease the door open and step into the darkness of Gen’s bedroom.
I can make out her sleeping form in the middle of the bed, the steady rise and fall of her breathing. Her hair is loose, cascading around her face and pillow. She’s so beautiful—just like one of her rare flowers. I place the roses on her bedside table and turn to leave when she lets out a little sigh.
A sigh that makes my treacherous heart thud. She rolls to her side and murmurs, “Kieran, don’t leave me.”
Does she know I’m here? Her eyes are shut tight, but how can I refuse her, even in her sleep?
“Never,” I whisper, taking a seat in the chair.
Sleep overtakes me with a gentleness I haven’t felt in years. When I awake, the watery light of dawn filters through the window. Gen still sleeps deeply in the bed, and I leave the room—a shadow cast in the night, gone by daybreak.
16
Genevieve
Only two weeks remain until the wedding, and I should have known that Prince Leland would choose a garden party to announce our upcoming nuptials.
“Where will the garden party take place?” I ask, and Leland gives me a knowing look.
“Somewhere I know you'll love.”
It feels good to have a surprise, for someone to take the time to plan something based on what I actually want. For days now, I’ve awoken to flowers at my bedside, from simple garden blooms to rare delicacies. I hope they’re from Leland, a secret gift he’s sneaking into my room through my lady’s maid, Trudy. But I suspect it’s Kieran. He hasn’t spoken to me since the death of the servant. The spreading rot probably only adds to the growing list of things he hates about me and my family.
Leland and I are settled in the carriage when someone else steps forward. I’d hoped we could have had more time alone. It’s been sodifficult to find even a few moments together, between the busyness of the wedding preparations and the obligations of the crown. Kieran’s broad frame fills the doorway, and he meets my eyes, his lips curling into a grin.
“Mind if I join?” he asks. I’m tempted to say yes, I do mind—but I don’t want Leland to know just how familiar Kieran and I are. What if it changes what he thinks of me? What if he no longer values our alliance, knowing I was once in love with his close friend?
But Leland answers first. “That would be wonderful, Blackwell. In fact, I’ve wanted the three of us to have a private moment together. I think we’ll all get along splendidly once the two of you are better acquainted.”
Kieran takes the seat across from us, his long, muscular leg close enough to brush the hem of my full skirt. “I think you’re right, Leland. Tell me, Princess, do you think we’ll get along alright? Have you had any redblooded scoundrels as companions?”
His foot taps against mine—and stays there—the contact between us sending an unwanted current through my body.
Leland looks at both of us, a sly smile on his soft face. “No teasing my bride, Morris!” He glances at me and adds, “Mr. Blackwell has an abominable reputation, but he has a heart of gold. He’s dedicated to improving the lives of the helachite miners, railway workers, and their families. Did you know he’s created a workers’ organization for his employees? They can request higher wages, seek free medical assistance, and are provided comfortable accommodations through their employment. He’s brilliant, really, the way he’s built entire communities to better their lives. I don’t think there’s a man like him on the entire continent.”
“You flatter me,” Kieran mumbles, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him look uncomfortable. He turns to the window, and I feel the warmth from his shoe leave me.
“It’s not flattery. You’re an innovator in both mining and engineering—as well as social progress. The world is a better place thanks to you, Morris. I only wish others knew how much you’ve done for those with less than us.”
The man Leland describes sounds far more like the Kieran I once knew and less like the cold, distant Morris. Finally finding my voice, I say, “Mr. Blackwell, what made you decide to become so innovative in how you treat your employees?”
His eyes meet mine, his expression hard and unyielding. “I’ve experienced the worst the mines can offer, and I rose above it. The least I can do is ensure no one ever experiences the hell I lived through in your kingdom’s mines, Princess Genevieve.”
