Delphine’s mouth falls open. “Y-you’d be willing to do that?”
I hold her gaze and nod. “I’ll help you with your sister if you’ll help me with mine.”
Delphine studies me, anxiously fingering the end of her braid for what feels like an eternity.
“Please,” I beg. “This is the only lead I have to go on.”
After a long searching look, Delphine lets out a shaky breath. “Fine. I’ll take you tomorrow night. Secure an alibi for yourself—and ensure it’s ironclad. Soren has guards and councilors everywhere, and none of them can know we left the palace.”
“Not a problem,” I say. “In fact, I know just the thing. Can you bring a tray of lavender tea, a plate of scones, and a bowl of nutmeg when you return tomorrow night?”
Delphine gives me an incredulous look. “Be serious, Indira. This won’t be a picnic. We’ll be in real danger. We need a real plan.”
“Trust me,” I say with a blossoming grin. “A picnic is precisely what we need.”
Twenty
We knock on Elodie’s chamber door just after sundown the followingday. She and she looks so different from the glamorous, giggling courtier I’m used to, I almost don’t recognize her. Her braids are wrapped up in a silk bonnet, her eyes have been scrubbed clean of kohl, and instead of a glittering gown, she’s dressed in an old floral robe that makes her looks like the younger sister of the noblewoman who flounces about the queen’s salon.
“Indira!” She fingers her bonnet self-consciously. “Did we have plans? I confess, it must have slipped my mind.” She glances from me to Delphine, who’s carrying the tray of tea and scones I requested, to the pair of guards I asked to escort us here—so there’s no debate about where I spent my evening.
“No, this is a surprise visit,” I say with an apologetic smile. “I’ve brought sweets in exchange for advice. Turns out I don’t know the first thing about being a wife or pleasing a prince.” I shrug helplessly and make a pleading face. “But if it’s a bad time, I can come back.”
“Don’t be silly. I always have time for my dearest friend—especially when you needthissort of advice.” Elodie ushers me in with a wink andan excited clap, and her genuine enthusiasm to help me at a moment’s notice prods me with an unexpected finger of guilt.
Don’t forget, she could have ulterior motives, I remind myself. I still don’t have proof that she wasn’t part of Rowenna’s demise. She could be the most cunning threat on this mountain. The wolf, masquerading as a lamb.
Elodie ushers me into a gaudy sitting room with pink-striped wallpaper, delicate crystal statues, and half a dozen framed portraits of Elodie and her mother. She seats me on one of the enormous lounge pillows covering the floor and flounces down beside me.
“Tell me everything.”
I launch into a dramatic tale about my wifely failings all while stuffing Elodie so full of pastries, and my specially concocted tea, that she’s snoring soundly in less than an hour and should remain that way until midmorning.
Delphine melts away from the wall and helps me lug Elodie into bed. Then we raid her closet for heavy boots and fur-lined cloaks before crossing to the nearest window. The sun set hours ago, and the moon looks like a sliver from my bitten nails, making the shadows deep and impenetrable. Elodie’s rooms are closer to the ground and far more conducive to sneaking out than my solid-rock chamber. There’s even a ledge to shuffle along, which leads to a turret we can use for cover as we climb down to the street.
Delphine opens the casement and leans out, glancing right and left. “The guards should be busy chasing chickens that just so happened to escape their coop and wander into the courtyard where King Soren keeps his hunting dogs. So the coast should be clear—if you’re ready?” She peers back at me.
I nod once, afraid the roiling anxiety in my stomach will spew out if I open my mouth.
There are so many ways this could go wrong.
After a deep breath and a trepidatious look of her own, Delphineslips out onto the ledge.
I follow, keeping my eyes fixed on a far-off watchtower so I’m not tempted to look down. It isn’t the drop that grabs me by the throat and makes me shudder, though. It’s the frigid mountain air. When you spend all day cocooned in glass and stone, it’s easy to forget these breathtaking views come at the cost of punishing wind and cold. My teeth instantly begin to chatter, and my legs are slow and shaky, despite the extra clothing I borrowed from Elodie. I only manage to shuffle one step in the time Delphine takes five.
I don’t know how she’s moving so swiftly or easily, especially since she didn’t borrow any extra clothing for herself. She insisted she didn’t need it, and judging by her easy progress, it’s true. But it contradicts everything Alaric taught me about their culture. Someone as physically weak and low in status as Delphine shouldn’t be able to withstand such bitter cold. And wasn’t her supposed clumsiness the thing that got her and Rowenna caught the night Delphine followed my sister up the mountain? Yet, here she is, navigating the turret wall as effortlessly as a salamander climbing a rocky embankment.
A full-bodied shiver grips me, and I stop shuffling.
“What’s the matter?” Delphine asks when she realizes I’ve fallen even farther behind. “Do you need help?”
I don’t have a clue how to answer because, once again, I don’t know if my worries are legitimate or if I’m so paranoid and jaded, I’m sabotaging a perfectly good opportunity to find answers.
There could be logical explanations for every little discrepancy. My perception of cold and climbing ability obviously aren’t the same as the Vanzadorians, for starters. But I could also be so desperate for answers and assistance, I’m willfully overlooking warning signs.
There’s a very real possibility I am following Rowenna’s killer to my own demise.
What should I do?I silently ask my sister.Can this girl be trusted?
