“If there’s trouble, I’ll try to send word as quickly as possible.” Hugo rose on slightly shaky legs. He finished dressing in his best waistcoat and jacket. Dorian might have needed to help him tie his cravat. His trembling fingers kept mangling the knot.
A short time later, Hugo sat in an exquisite, well-sprung carriage with the plushest seats he’d ever sat on. His mother practically bubbled over with excitement. She was wearing her nicest visiting dress and biggest hat, which overflowed with feathers and flowers. Jessamine Baker was sure Hugo was going straight to meet the prince, where they would instantly fall in love. Naturally, the prince would propose marriage before the end of the day.
Hugo, on the other hand, was sure he was riding to his execution.
The trip to Frostbourne seemed to take twice as long as it had last night, and yet they were at the palace in the blink of an eye. Hugo fought the overwhelming urge to gawk at his surroundings. His family had lived in Frostbourne for several years, and he’d seen the castle from outside the walls, but never in his life had he thought that he’d one day be walking inside.
White marble and elegant gold touches were everywhere. Colorful flags hung from the ceilings in the grand entrance and long, intricately woven rugs. It wasn’t hard to be completely overwhelmed.
A very severe-looking man with a pinched face and thinning hair greeted them at the entrance. He wore a dark burgundy-and-gold uniform that appeared so starched and pressed that the edges were sharp. The butler led them through a series of long, empty corridors and through numerous ostentatious rooms without uttering a word. Near the end of their journey, Jessamine was puffing and gasping for her breath, struggling to keep up, and even Hugo was feeling winded. How did anyonelive in a place so big and not get lost constantly? Was every servant handed a map the day they joined the staff?
At long last, they were brought to a large room with tall floor-to-ceiling windows filled with beautiful sunlight, gazing out onto a garden that was bursting with colorful spring blooms. Four ladies sat in elegant pastel gowns, sipping tea from rosebud teacups.
Hugo might not have ever seen the queen in person, but she was still easy to pick out among the group. She sat on a thronelike gold chair at the head of the room while the other three were on significantly smaller chairs that resembled footstools. Their heads were decidedly lower than the queen’s.
Jessamine sank into a graceful throne-room deep curtsy, while still panting heavily, and Hugo bowed as well, praying that his fear didn’t show on his face.
“We are so honored to have received your invitation, Your Majesty,” his mother gushed.
There was a long pause, and Hugo finally heard one woman whisper, “This is Mrs. Baker and her son.” Another long pause. “From last night’s gala.”
“Oh yes,” the queen purred. There was a soft clink of porcelain, and Hugo glanced up as he straightened to see the queen hand her teacup over to a waiting servant.
Dammit. This did have to do with his mother’s ridiculous claim. So much for Augustine’s excuse that the queen had wanted their father to make an anniversary cake for them.
“Mrs. Baker, and your very handsome son, Hugo, correct?” the queen inquired.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Jessamine agreed with a curtsy. A blush burned on Hugo’s cheeks. He wouldn’t ever describe himself as very handsome, but he was honored that the queen would make such a comment.
His gaze inched up so he could see the queen. She was a stately, regal woman of middle age, though she appeared several years younger than her actual age. Her features were too severe to be called delicate or lovely, but she was a very attractive, powerful-looking woman. And right now, her expression felt very dangerous.
“Lady Hawthorne attended the Winthrop Spring Gala last night, and she was telling me so many wonderful stories about the event. I’m sure you recall seeing mydearestfriend andcousin, Lady Hawthorne, at the ball,” the queen continued.
Hugo’s eyes snapped to the woman the queen motioned to on her right. She was even older than the queen, with a very superior air about her. Gray streaked her dark hair heavily, and a cold smile tilted up her thin lips. It was that smile that finally triggered Hugo’s memory. She had been standing behind the group of women his mother had been boasting to. She hadn’t been with them, but it had been clear that she’d been eavesdropping on their conversation.
“I don’t believe I’ve been formally introduced to Lady Hawthorne, but I have heard of the illustrious lady,” Jessamine stated, giving a tiny curtsy in Lady Hawthorne’s direction.
“Yes, well, my cousin was telling me how your darling son has the most amazing magical gift. She stated you claim your son can spin straw into gold.”
An icy hand gripped Hugo’s lungs, freezing his breath so he couldn’t draw in even a gasp of air.Oh gods, no!By stressing that Lady Hawthorne was the queen’s cousin, she was possibly hinting that his mother had dared to lie to a member of the royal family. There was only one punishment for such a thing—death.
His brain ran in panicked circles. What was he supposed to do? Could his mother just claim that it was a silly joke? That she hadn’t meant for anyone to take her seriously? If Hugo hadn’t rushed her out of there so suddenly, she would have explainedthat it was all a joke. Yes, that was the course of action. It was a harmless joke, and the queen would simply reprimand them for their thoughtlessness. Possibly give them a small fine to pay.
Hugo swallowed and gathered up the courage to speak, hoping to smooth over the moment.
“Yes, of course my son can spin straw into gold,” Jessamine blurted out before Hugo could say a word. “It’s something we don’t speak of. We don’t want to brag. I’m afraid that it would bring fortune hunters to our door, and I very much want to find a good love match for my son. He has recently turned twenty-two and needs to be married.”
The world almost went black for a second. Hugo’s heart stopped, and his brain no longer worked. It wasn’t accepting new information. When given the opportunity to come clean, his mother had doubled down on her lie. Now she was lying directly to the queen and not just the queen’s beloved cousin.
He was dead. His mother had signed their death warrants. Upon their failure to return home, Hugo could only hope that Dorian would realize what had happened and would take Augustine far from Buckleford and Frostbourne for their own safety. Maybe they could find a tiny cottage somewhere. Dorian could work at another bookshop, and Augustine could…hell, he didn’t know what Augustine could do, but he had faith that his brother would figure something out.
“Excellent. Then you wouldn’t mind if I gave your son a test.”
“A test?” Jessamine gulped.
“Yes, a little thing. I’ll have him placed in a room filled with straw and a spinning wheel. If he can turn all the straw into gold within twenty-four hours, I will reward him with…oh…let’s say, a lunch with Prince Everand. I’m sure he’d have some useful advice for Mr. Baker on how to find a good husband, and they would undoubtedly have a lovely conversation.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Jessamine murmured.
