It was an ordeal, sneaking out of Kensington Palace through the tunnel system Emmett once taught me, crossing town in disguise, bribing a yeoman guard to let me inside the ancient prison on the bank of the Thames.
But up in the tower that once held her, I found only an empty cell, its gate squeaking as it swung open in the darkness.
It’s another thing I’m too afraid to ask anyone about. If Bram knew I knew his mother was no longer at the Tower, he would also know I snuck out to conspire against him.
Again, Rhion makes no effort to address my question. “We’re taking the waters today. Will you join us?”
“Oh.” I’m startled by his request. Bram’s court has been particularly taken with the old Roman baths since our arrival. They sit in the natural hot springs and breathe in the mineralized air. The humans say the waters are good for your health, that they can cure all sorts of ailments. But what good does that do an immortal?
“Don’t you...” I hesitate. “You live forever, so I’m afraid I don’t understand the point.”
Rhion cocks his head, confused at my reply. “But it’s fun.”
He sounds so much like Bram I recoil unconsciously.
My efforts at reconnaissance are going nowhere. I can no longer stand to be in Rhion’s strange house, surrounded by his awful, glassy-eyed human pets.
I need to go home and find a private space to cry about the deer mask girl. It was a mistake to come here so soon after finding her body. I can’t hold it together much longer.
“I do apologize. I hate to take my leave early, but I’ve only just remembered I have another appointment.” I gather my skirts around me and start for the door.
Rhion stands, and a surprisingly genuine look of concern crosses his eerily beautiful face. “Will you come again?”
I pull my mouth into a smile with effort. “Of course, we’re friends now, are we not?”
Rhion looks unsure. “Take the waters with us,” he says urgently.
“Another day.”
“Bring your ladies-in-waiting.”
I’m nearly to the door when I stop and turn around, I can’t help it. The diamonds around his neck sparkle in the watery morning light.
“You know Lydia?” I ask once more. My veins buzz with the confirmation that she must be in the Otherworld, that I’ve been right all along.
Rhion turns his gaze to the floor. “Can one ever really know Lydia Benton?”
It’s a good question. One that’s haunted me.
Rhion glances around like he’s nervous we’re being listened to. It sets me on edge.
He takes two quick steps toward me and shocks me by wrapping me in a tight embrace. “What can you shatter with just one word?” he whispers, lips nearly brushing the shell of my ear.
I pull myself from his grip. And then, as if nothing odd has happened, he snaps back to his cheery self and waves me out the door.
I take one last look back at him and realize, strangely, he didn’t seem drunk at all.
I wish I could spend the rest of the day in my room, wallowing with Pig, writing letters to Emmett and Lydia, then feeding them to the fire, but a queen’s work is never done.
It’s been only four months since I was elevated far above my station, and given Bram’s distinct lack of interest in running this country, it’s all fallen to me. I may be powerless among Bram’s faerie court, but in human matters, I’m the only one keeping things afloat.
I love Emmett and Lydia too much to let them come home to a country in ruins. So, by the bloody tips of my fingers, I am doing my best to hold it together.
First on the agenda is a charity tea with the other wives and high society girls at the Pump Room.
I’m taken down the hill in a sedan chair, essentially a chaise held up by two long sticks, with four footmen, one on each corner, to carry me. The ride is unsteady, and I’d really rather walk by myself, but I have to create some illusion of propriety.
All along the route people wave handkerchiefs and take off their hats in respect. I even hear a few echoes of “God save the queen!” Months ago, the first few times it happened, I was offended,automatically thinking of Mor, before I realized they meant me. I still have to bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud.
