I grin at the sight of her all cozy and carefree. She really is something else.
I could crawl back into bed beside her, tuck myself into the warmth, and forget about all the things that need to be done. For a moment, I let myself hover on the edge of that temptation.
Today isn’t about me. It’s about Leigh and Wilder. If I want to avoid delays, I need to be dressed, fed, and ready to drag Leigh out of bed (her claims of sleeping alone are about as believable as the flying unicorns on Meg’s pajamas—everyone knows unicorns are land dwellers).
I’m almost to the bathroom when a sharp knock rattles the wooden door. Not now. The day is scheduled to the minute; anyone not on my itinerary can come back later. Plus, I need to look effortless, and that takes actual effort.
The knock comes again.
I sigh, frustration knotting my shoulders. “Go away.”
“It’s Cynthia.” Leigh’s mother’s voice has my chest pounding like mad. Why is she here?
Leigh had better be okay, or else there will be hell to pay.
I open the door and smile at Cynthia. Her blonde hair is a mess—frizzy and unkept—and her usually flawless makeup looks rushed and worn out. She’s tall, about the same height as Leigh, which usually makes her tower over me, but her shoulders are hunched, and her limbs tremble.
“Heavens, are you all right?” I ask, opening the door wider. I’ve seen this woman out of sorts only one other time in my life: the night her husband and son died.
Needles pierce my throat, my skin, and my eyes. Oh gods. Leigh?
“How could you?”
I suck in a breath. “I’m sorry?”
“I just had a visit from President Dyer.”
“Oh?” My mind races through various scenarios regarding the president’s visit with Cynthia and how it might be connected to me. I come up short. Janus hasn’t spoken to me directly in ages.
“Leigh is missing,” she says, her voice low and urgent. “Janus informed me that she has been unaccounted for since last night. There’s something about a rift to another world, daemons, and a lost boy who isn’t truly lost, but that’s beside the point. My daughter ismissingand so is Wilder. The president has decided to seal the portal with Leigh still inside, as per my daughter’s orders. When I asked when Leigh gave these orders, she told me it was last night, while we were still at the party. She said you knew!”
I gasp. Why would Leigh go through the portal? “I can assure you, Cynthia, I had no idea Leigh was gone. Yes, Ry told me about the daemons last night. He asked on behalf of the Counciland Leigh to keep up appearances while they dealt with the threat, but?—”
“You didn’t think to tell me?” she shrieks.
“I didn’t want to worry you or Queen Jorina. When I didn’t get an update after the meeting, I assumed the daemons were handled. I thought I was helping.”
“Helping my daughter make a reckless decision. If I had known about the rift, I could have stopped her. If I had been made aware, I would have seen the signs.” She inhales shakily. “Gods, there were signs. I thought they were just nerves, but she was planning to go into that rift the entire time to rescue a child who happens to share her brother’s name.”
I stand there, stunned. Why didn’t Leigh tell me her plans? I’m supposed to be her best friend, yet I had no idea any of this was going on. My knees feel weak, but I lean against the door frame to keep myself upright.
I’ve planned a wedding for two people I might never see again. How did this happen?
Cynthia’s eye ticks in a tiny spasm—she’s more rattled than she lets on. If Leigh doesn’t return, she’ll have lost her husband, son, and daughter. She will have no one left.
Should I have told Cynthia about the daemons at the party last night? She was so happy there, and I didn’t want to take that away from her. Throughout my life, I’ve made it my goal to keep everyone around me happy, but I always end up making things worse.
Shit. “Cynthia, I am so sorry. What can I do?”
“It’s too late. Leigh is gone.”
I shake my head. “No, please. I can talk to Ry and the others and get an update; maybe Janus was mistaken.”
Tears stream down Cynthia’s face, and the urge to make things better between us overwhelms me.
“Does Queen Jorina know about Leigh?” If she doesn’t, we need to move fast—talk to the Blades, corroborate Janus’s story, and get our facts straight before the queen learns the truth and everything else falls apart.
She laughs harshly. “Of course not. This news will devastate Jorina. Leigh’s her only grandchild. That’s why you’re going to tell her instead of me. Face the consequences of keeping secrets from us.” With that, she turns on her designer heels and marches away, leaving behind a cloud of rose-scented perfume and despair.
