Savory made a sound from her perch, the first noise she’d offered since we’d arrived.
Sasha translated. “She says whoever built the underground chamber will return to it eventually. We just need to give them a reason to act now rather than later.”
Smart bird.
We left the greenhouse together, the air feeling clean and sharp after the taint inside. We located the gardener near the south wall, using subtle manipulation of water magic to tend a bed of wilted flowers.
When he looked up, I kept my expression concerned but not panicked, drawing on years of court performance to project the right level of urgency. “I need you to arrange for replacement orchids and have them delivered as soon as possible.”
“Of course, sire. That’s wise. There’s no bringing the others back in time for the festival.”
I paused as if the thought had just occurred to me. “Could we have them here by mid-afternoon? I’d like them settled before evening.”
“I can manage that. Lord Ashcroft’s greenhouse has been producing beautifully this season. And Lady Mulligan’s conservatory always has stunning orchids.”
“Perfect.” I lowered my voice slightly. “Let’s keep this quiet. I don’t want to alarm the court.”
He nodded, his eyes brightening. “Understood, Your Majesty. I’ll be discreet.”
I watched him head toward the stables to arrange transport.
Sasha waited nearby, Savory perched on her shoulder. The morning clouds had thickened, and the first drops of rain began falling as we started back toward the castle.
“You’re good at making emergency measures sound like normal royal efficiency.” Her mouth quirked. “The gardener has no idea he’s helping us set a trap.”
“I’ve had years of practice making difficult decisions look effortless.” I guided her around a puddle already forming in the path. “I’d always thought it was one of the less useful skills my mother taught me.”
The mention of her sent a pang through my chest, but I pushed it aside. I’d made the right choice sending her away, even if it hurt.
We entered the manor house, our clothes damp from rain. Servants hurried through the corridors on their usual tasks, offering respectful greetings as we passed. Hopefully, few knew about the crisis.
I wanted to keep it that way. Panic wouldn’t help.
“What are you hoping to find in Lady Kenneth’s texts?” Sasha asked as we climbed the stairs toward our suite to change into dry clothing.
“Precedent. Pattern. Some indication of what we’re really dealing with.” I glanced at her. “Historical accounts might tell us if this kind of magical corruption has specific counters. Or at least give us insight into whoever might be behind it. It must take a certain skill to work this kind ofmagic. There can’t be many fae capable of doing it. People talk. If someone has this skill, others will know.”
We changed quickly and hurried to my office.
I could hear movement inside. Lady Kenneth must’ve arrived ahead of us.
I paused with my hand on the handle, looking at Sasha. Rain had dampened her dark hair, but determination blazed in her eyes. This woman who I’d married as a stranger had become vital to me in such a short time.
I opened the door.
Lady Kenneth stood beside my desk covered in volumes, their leather bindings showing age and careful preservation.
She looked up as we entered, and her concerned expression stopped me cold.
“You need to see this,” she said, her voice tight. “What we’re dealing with isn’t sabotage. It’s something much worse.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
SASHA
Savory perched on Dominic’s desk, tilting her head back and forth as she studied Lady Kenneth.
The lady opened one of the ancient texts on Dominic’s desk, her fingers trembling as she turned pages. I’d never seen her this agitated, not even when discussing her favorite sword techniques.
