“He’s talking about himself in third person,” I point out. He gets heavier and heavier as our trio stumbles down a hallway lined with matching black velvet curtains. The moon shines through the windows, lighting our way.
“Now where?” Gwyneth asks as we hit a crossroads. “Follow the slipper,” he mutters.
“You really do have a foot fetish,” I grumble before he loses consciousness and slumps forward, out of our grip. He faceplants the stone floor, making us both grimace.
“I’m sure he will be fine,” I reassure Gwyneth.
She blinks at me. “You gave him enough Dranton root to down the entire town of Strongfair. In what realm do you think he will be fine?”
“But none of those folks are shiny.”
She rubs her hands down her face. “We have got to get him to his own chamber, or at least out of the corridor for all to witness.”
“Good plan, you get his feet,” I say, going to his head. We flip him onto his back and I scoop my hands under his armpits. Ew, sweaty Charming. I tug and groan under his weight. What in the Blazes do they feed these Hallowed? I huff and we make it about an inch before I fall backward and land on my ass.
“This is impossible,” I mutter, slapping my hands on the floor and hauling myself up. “We need something to carry him in.”
Gwyneth drops his feet and twists her lips to the side as she surveys the hallway. Her eyes light up—great, she has a plan. She strides over to the curtain and yanks hard. It pops off its holdings and falls with a heavy thump to the ground.
“For the record, I expect people might notice the Hallowed size lump under the curtain,” I tell her. Her plans are normally sound; Charming has affected her brain cells. She throws the curtain next to his body.
“Unfold it.”
We lay out the curtain next to him before I straighten and arch a brow at her. “Now what?”
“Get him on to it.”
I go to his side next to Gwyneth and we roll him onto the fabric. We wrap him up inside like a sausage. Hmm sausage. I’ve had it a few times in my life, when I could be sure of the contents. Duck, capon, and bunkum sausage are delicious. But toad and rat are just gross, and those are often what they sell at market. She uses the thick rope tie back to secure the curtain around his feet and fashions a hoop out of it before handing it to me.
Gwyneth frowns at the walls and runs her fingers over the gold symbols. On the left wall is a slipper plus some swords.Follow the slipper,he said. “This way,” she says, grabbing the thick cord with me as we drag the body—wait, no, the prince—bodysounds like he’s dead. Which he probably is, but hauling a dead body gives me the shivers.
We follow the slipper symbols around various corners, miraculously not bumping into anyone. Sweat trickles down my spine and I’m breathing like a herd of bunkum is on my trail. Charming is getting heavier by the tempo.
We resort to lugging him as we walk backward, rounding yet another corner. All these corners while hefting a body—no, prince—in heels and a gown. That is quite the feat for me. My back bumps into something hard and I drop Charming like a hot potato, spinning to face the obstacle. My hands land on a chest as a cinnamon and sunshine scent envelops me. I hesitantly peer up only to find Hart scowling down at me.
“Hi, fancy meeting you here,” I say, edging towards Gwyneth so we conceal the lumpy curtain on the ground. This would be a brilliant plan, except that the Stirlings have at least a foot on us Burghers and can see over our heads.
“What are you up to?” he asks as his eyes tighten.
“Who me? Just having a casual stroll around the palace.”
Malachi emerges from the shadows and smiles at me. He tilts his head at our package. “Really? With a huge sack hauled behind you?”
“Isn’t that the norm here? All Burghers take their worldly possessions with them wherever they go, just in case they find somewhere new to dwell. Is that not the way of The Hallowed?” I blink up at Malachi innocently. He tilts his head and inches around me. I match his steps and block Charming from view.
“What’s the holdup?” a familiar voice asks as it emerges from the shadows with a body-shaped package of his own thrown over his shoulder. Theo, the ax-wielding idiot, is carrying a person wrapped in a sheet.
“See, you do have the same customs,” I say, my voice higher pitched than normal.
Theo narrows his gaze on me. “Pretty mouse, what are you doing sneaking around the palace with your sister?”
Hart grabs my wrist and yanks me forward and away from Charming. Gwyneth slaps his forearm. “Get your Hallowed hands off her.”
Malachi bends down and takes a peek inside the curtain. A chuckle escapes him, which does funny things to my tummy. “What is it?” Theo snaps as I struggle against Hart’s iron grip.
“A very unconscious Charming,” Malachi says, wrapping him back up.
“He’s still breathing?” I check.
