Lucy stuck her tongue out and slammed the door behind them.
Outside, the air felt colder. Or maybe Lucy was only noticing it now. Stonehaven’s streets were busy, but the bustle no longer felt comforting. It felt like motion for motion’s sake. The peoplewere moving so they didn’t have to think about what chased them.
“She must not be that smart if she tried lying in front of Sylva,” the Baroness said, fanning harder as if she could blow away danger through etiquette.
“You’re right,” Lucy said. “And she did say they work together.”
“That’s because I told her I could only detect lies when I’m touching someone,” Sylva said casually.
Lucy stopped mid-step so abruptly that Basil almost ran into her.
She turned slowly. “The lie detector… lied?”
Sylva shrugged, tail flicking. “It’s better if fewer know how it works.”
Lucy stared at him, mind racing. “But you told us.”
Sylva’s ears angled back, strangely shy for someone who looked like he could bite through a lock.
“Well… you’re Uncle Basil’s friends.”
Basil made a small sound that might have been a cough or a suppressed emotion. “Don’t call me that.”
Sylva blinked. “Lie.”
Lucy barked a laugh before she could stop it. The laugh tasted of relief and panic mixed.
The Baroness snapped her fan closed with finality. “Enough chatter! We must leave immediately!”
She stormed ahead with the determination of a woman marching to war.
Lucy watched her for two full seconds.
Then she sighed and jogged after, falling into step beside Basil.
“I’m leaving the explaining to you,” she told him. “You can break it to her that we can’t travel north tonight without collapsing, dying, and becoming cautionary tales told to children.”
Basil pinched the bridge of his nose. “Perfect. My favorite job.”
Lucy grinned, heart pounding with determination and something sharper beneath it.
Esther was running toward freedom, or maybe running toward something she didn’t understand.
Regardless, Lucy refused to let her do it alone.
Lucy had chased princesses her entire life. She knew their patterns. She knew their stubbornness.
She knew how they ran when they were terrified.
And she knew, with sick certainty, that Esther had never been running away.
She’d been running toward the first place that might tell her the truth.
Lucy tightened her grip on the strap of her bag and picked up her pace.
Maid, menace, and professional princess-chaser, she survived another day of traveling.
31
