“We need to somehow convince them to come into your room though,” Nim replied. The whole plan was worryingly tenuous.
Alanna gave her a rueful smile. “If they see the door is unlocked they’ll come in to check on me. Ballanor will never allow me the chance to open it.”
Keely nodded slowly, and so did Nim. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.
Tentatively, as if afraid of being rejected, Alanna put out her hand. Nim didn’t hesitate; she reached out and took it. They spent a moment, hands clasped, taking strength from each other.
They quickly ransacked Alanna’s wardrobe for clothes—tunics, breeches, socks, and boots—and scarves to cover their faces. It was difficult to get dressed while shackled to Keely, and it didn’t help that Alanna was taller and thinner than them both, but they did the best they could, tearing seams where they had to and using Alanna’s small embroidery scissors to cut holes for Nim’s wings.
Alanna knelt to shove a bundle of rags into the chimney and then set a massive fire while Nim and Keely finished dressing and then wrapped bits of fabric over their chain to stop it clanking. As soon as it was blazing, she stepped away, wiping her sooty hands on her dress.
Nim watched the queen work, her regard for Alanna going up yet another notch. Whoever thought she was arrogant and spoiled had obviously never met the woman.
The room was rapidly becoming sweltering, the air thick with trapped smoke, and as soon as they were done, they covered their faces, tipped the powder onto a decorative bronze plate that they’d ripped from the wall, and then shoved it onto the coals.
The three women hurried into the fresh air of the king’s chamber, closing the door behind them, and looked around for somewhere, anywhere, to hide. There weren’t a lot of options.
It was a magnificent suite of rooms, far grander than the queen’s single bedroom. On one side was a large seating area of velvet sofas and leather armchairs. Beside that, a small nook with piles of books and a rolltop desk of polished mahogany. A screened-off dressing area flanked a massive wardrobe, and an archway led to an opulent marble washroom with a sunken bath.
But none of it offered anywhere for three grown women to hide. In the wardrobe, under the bed, the attached bathing room… all the kind of options that would appeal to a six-year-old.
Gods. This was never going to work.
She looked at their options again, mind spinning and coming up hopelessly blank.
“We need to make them go straight into my room, to the smoke,” Alanna observed, her voice muffled by the fabric over her face.
Nim grunted, feeling a sharp pang as the sound reminded her of Tristan. “There’s no way to do that. We just have to hide and hope they notice the door’s unlocked and go to investigate.”
Alanna frowned, her eyes bleak, as aware as Nim that there was nowhere for them all to hide. “I’m sick of hiding, sick of hoping.”
Nim’s chest burned at the sight of the grim desolation in the queen’s gaze. “I understand, truly, but it will get better. As soon as we’re out of here. I promise.”
The queen dipped her chin. “And Val’s out too.”
“Of course; that’s the whole point,” she agreed softly.
“Yes, that’s the whole point.” The queen gave a small, decisive nod and rested a slim hand on Nim’s arm. “Please promise me something.”
“Of course.”
“When you see Val, tell him I’m sorry. And tell him….” Alanna glanced at Keely, and the two women shared a look. “Tell him thank you for the snowdrops, and I wish he’d been right about them.”
Nim blinked. Presumably it would mean something to Val. “Firstly, there is nothing for you to be sorry about. Secondly, you can—”
Nim was cut off by the noise of boots in the corridor outside, and the rumble of male voices giving orders. They were out of time.
She flew into the wardrobe, the only vaguely viable option, dragging Keely with her by their chain. Her heart hammered and her breath labored against the scarf, as she pushed against the king’s clothes with one hand, forcing enough room in the cramped wardrobe for Keely to go ahead.
The chain between her and Keely was stiff and awkward, but somehow, they managed. Once they were both in, she held the door open a couple of inches and frantically waved to Alanna, where she stood in the middle of the room watching them. They only had seconds left.
But the queen shook her head and took a step away.
No. That wouldn’t work. Nim whispered a loud “No!” gesturing frantically for the queen to join them.
Alanna dropped the hand holding her scarf, bit her lip and gestured for them to close the door.
What the hell was Alanna doing? Nim met the other woman’s wide green eyes and saw her mouth, “Tell him,” before Alanna straightened her spine and turned. The queen swiftly opened her door, coughing desperately in the billowing smoke, and then disappeared back into her room, closing her door behind her with a rough click.
