She smiled. “I know,”—her smile faded—“but you’ve never been to the Spire.” She turned to gaze up at her mother’s crypt. “Life at the Spire is vicious in ways that make manticores look like cuddly kittens.”
“You don’t owe them anything, Magda,” he said. “I know you think you do, but... it wasn’t fair what Ouda asked of you, or for Damion to bring you back into this world, into this life, when you were happier free of it.”
She looked back at him, smiling. “You’re too kind. No one will believe you’re a true Prince.” She circled the room, trying to determine what would be best to pilfer.
His eyes followed her. “Why not? What was Caden like?”
She stopped at the wooden horse again, a life-sized replica with fine detailing, each hair carved in, the brown glass eyes alive, the tack a blend of silk, wool, linen, and silver— Pixie-cloth—both tough and elegant. Across his rump, saddlebags.
“He was a Prince.” She unbuckled the bags from where they attached to the wooden saddle. “He was manipulative, cavalier, domineering.”
“Didn’t you say he was only fourteen when he died?”
She nodded, pulling the bags free of the horse. “He was also beautiful and funny. When he smiled, everyone smiled. You couldn’t help it. He had the kind of charm that puts people at ease at once. But he was also wild. He would take any dare,”—she hugged the bags to her chest—“which is what got him killed.”
“You sound as though you miss him.”
She smirked, flipping open the front compartment of the bags—empty.
“I was a little girl whose father was dead and whose mother had to keep her knives out day and night. Caden was to be my Prince. He doted on me, bringing me gifts, making up nonsense rhymes, and having his brownies perform ridiculous acrobatic stunts to make me laugh. He let me follow him wherever he and his friends went. With Caden, I always felt important, wanted. Everyone had always treated me with deference, even the other Raes, because of my mother. But Caden made me feel special.”
She went back to the trunk and began to scoop coins into the bag. They clanked and plinked as they pooled in the bottom of the bag.
“In hindsight,” she said, “it’s clear he was just doing what Princes do. Like I said, he was as shrewd as anyone twice his age. I saw him talk his way out of trouble a hundred times. But I was a child, my heart was easily won. I was so desperate for someone who would listen to me... He didn’t have to do anything really. Just be there, just let me talk. It was always aggravating, how important I was supposed to be, yet no one listened. My mother issued commands, my tutors instructed and disciplined, my attendants only liked to gossip and didn’t want to imagine that my life was anything but perfect. I never knew if Caden really understood or if he just did what he thought he had to do to make me happy, but... I felt as though he understood. And I was happier for it.”
Lifting the bags off her shoulder, she tested the weight. Into the other side she put an equal amount of coin, evening the load, and then settled the bags back on her shoulder. When she turned, she found Kaelan braiding a bit of twine together in a distracted way.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said, tossing the twine aside. “I was just thinking that if I’m going to attempt to impersonate this Prince, there’s quite a bit about him I’ll need to learn. He probably had more than a few friends.”
She nodded. “Damion will know more about Caden’s friends than I do. Hopefully, Flor will fill in the rest. I was so young when he died. Now, I’m not sure I knew him at all. Not really. After he died, I tried to put him out of my mind.”
“And did you?”
“Mostly.”
Bringing the other bag to the front, she picked through the jewels and trinkets, taking those that could be the most easily sold and unidentifiable for what they were—that is, stolen from a Rae’s grave. She didn’t doubt her mother would’ve supported her taking the gold, but it was still against the law and punishable by death.
“It seems cruel,” he said, “to his mother.”
“I know,” she said, dropping a string of pearls into the bag. “But it’s our best chance.”
“What do you think Caden would say?”
She smiled as she lifted a small box filled with uncut rubies and emeralds, dumping the contents into the saddlebag.
“Cae would say you’re not worthy even to pretend to be him. An Elf and an imp? His honor would be affronted and he would probably challenge you to a duel.” She arched her eyebrow at him. “And he would win.”
“You called him Cae?”
“Yes, and he called me...” She pressed her dusty fingers to her lips, holding back a laugh. Choking it down, her cheeks continued to warm. She inspected a silver comb, but spied the tiny noble hallmark upon it and returned it to the tray. “Maybe it’s better if we don’t revive that particular nickname.”
“If you want me to do this, I should probably know it. I should probably know everything you know about him, everything that happened. So what was it?”
She turned so he could see her frown. He cocked his brow. The light in his eyes was flickering, mirthful. But of course, he was right.
“Unless you want me to fail...” he started.
