I didn’t find any further information about Aelia earlier to tip me off as to whether she could be a possible assassin. But something about her still has me apprehensive. Even if Lyra tries to convince me she isn’t suspicious.
Lyra’s been questioning whether Cyrus’ Dark Seer actually interpreted the vision correctly. In which case, it would be both a good and bad thing if the Dark Seer was wrong. Good, because no one here is trying to kill the King. Bad, I no longer would have a solid reason for Cyrus to pardon my brother.
Unless, of course…my deal with Lyra comes to fruition.
I slip off my heels, lowering my feet to the cold marble floors. And then I’m out of the room, creeping down the darkened halls. I have maybe an hour before I need to meet Lyra. And another two hours before I anticipate the bell ringing.
As I near the hallway to Cyrus’ office, a fall of footsteps catches my attention. I slip back, flattening myself into the corner that turns into a new hallway.
“There you are. I need you to do me a favor.” Lady Bethany’s voice carries from the other hall, and the footsteps stop.
“Yes?” a woman asks.
I slowly withdraw my dagger from underneath my skirts, edge the blade out, and angle it until I get a sliver of Lady Bethany reflected in the blade.
She plops one dress on top of several others draped over the lady’s maid’s arms. “Take care of these.”
“Right away. Do you need them by a certain time tomorrow?”
“No, I want you to getridof them.”
In a small voice, the lady’s maid asks, “Just toss them in the trash chute? Or?—”
“I want you to burn them,” Lady Bethany replies. Then flicks a hand dismissively while she turns away to walk back the way she came. “Leave nothing behind.”
The lady’s maid blinks, watching Lady Bethany leave before she turnsand walks in the opposite direction. I slide my dagger back from the corner. As she passes the hall I’m in, I notice the dresses look darkly stained.
I wait in the silence. Making my move, I creep out from the corner and stop.
On the floor is a trail of small droplets. I crouch down, using the tip of my blade to inspect one. When it comes back dark red, like blood, I wipe it on the side of my dress.
They’re dead.I try to wave off the thought, but the truth is a quiet rumble of a warning.They’re not sick…they’re dead.
Trying to still my racing heart, I slowly push up to my feet. Staring down the direction where Lady Bethany disappeared to—toward the infirmary.
Before I know it, I’m following my painful curiosity. And as I make my way, catching up to Lady Bethany and following her at a safe distance, we reach the infirmary. I hide behind a curtain as she opens the door.
“Well?” she asks someone on the other side before a lady’s maid steps through.
The maid hands her several large glass jars filled to the brim with a dark liquid.
Lyra’s warning echoes in my mind.“Weeks ago when I went to turn you in for stealing that knife, I saw something. We were walking down a hall I hadn’t been down before. There were lady’s maids in a room stockpiling jars of blood. Our blood.”
I almost shake my head, not wanting to accept it. It has to be something else…right?
The lady’s maid and Lady Bethany walk away clutching the jars to their chests. As the door begins to slowly close on its own, I move quickly. Barely making it in time to get a glimpse into the infirmary.
Several maids are bent over two beds, scrubbing the darkly stained mattresses with brushes. The woman’s scream is a haunting ghost within my mind.
Sucking in a breath to steady myself, I make my way back to Cyrus’ office. Finding it, once again, locked.
“What are you doing here?” a deep voice calls behind me.
Swiveling, I find Devin with his smug expression eyeing meup and down.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I motion to the door. “I’m here to meet with Cyrus.”
“And it couldn’t wait until morning?” Devin tilts his head to the side.
