Chapter 191

Danyen was quiet all the way to her room. Kit could only imagine he was thinking about their plan, that or he was also worried she’d irritated the queen to no good end. Once in her chambers, her ladies dismissed for the night, they did not proceed the way she normally would when sharing her bed with a man. Instead, Kit sat on her chair by the window, and Danyen sat on the stool in front of her dressing table. It was the safest way to make sure they did not grow distracted by each other’s company.

“You do realize it’s not even the middle of the night yet, don’t you?” Danyen asked, his voice enlightening her to the fact that he was having trouble keeping his distance.

“Yes, I know. But I always grow sleepy after a good pleasuring, and I would hate to think I might be unable to get out of bed and carry out my plans.”

He chuckled. “What if I promise to keep it quick and to do all of the work?”

She joined in his laughter then. “I’m afraid I couldn’t trust you to do either of those things, Danyen. You will inspire me to give it my all.” Her thoughts went to their encounter in the library. That had been relatively quick, but she had certainly exhausted herself in the process.

“Let us lie on the bed then, and I’ll just wrap my arms around you. I promise nothing more.”

Kit was still hesitant, not because she didn’t trust him, but because she didn’t trust herself. She gave in to the gleam in his eyes, though, and climbed up on the bed. He did the same, and she rested her head on his chest. “Tell me about growing up in Farlington.”

“What do you want to know?”

He’d already told her much, but she wanted to know more. “Tell me of your childhood. What did you do? Where did you go? Who did you know?”

Danyen began to describe to her in great detail what it had been like for him as a boy growing up in Kit’s father’s province. Despite the late hour and how comfortable she was on her own bed, in his arms, his story held her interest until her clock across the room gently stroked two in the morning. Kit sat up abruptly.

“Is it time already?” Danyen asked, a bit of sarcasm in his voice as if he had grown weary of listening to his own stories.

In response, Kit leaned over and kissed him. “I should be going. I hope that Pierce does what he has been doing, and that our timing is correct.”

“It should be. Are you certain you do not wish for me to accompany you? If something should happen, and you’re caught, Eli and Cassius will skin me alive.”

“No. You pretend as if you’re asleep, and I’ve snuck off without your knowing.”

“And how do I explain my clothes?”

“You noticed I was gone and got dressed. Really, though, it’ll be all right. I should be back in half an hour’s time. If I’m not back by three, let them know I’m missing.”

Danyen nodded, but it held no confidence. Kit kissed him again and tiptoed over to the passage in the wall, not that the guards outside would’ve been able to hear her footsteps in her own room. Still, she needed to be careful, and she may as well start now.

The passage was as dark and dusty as always. Once the door was closed behind her, there was no light. She felt her way along, counting her footsteps and feeling along the walls. It wasn’t until she got close to where she thought the exit should be that she slowed down and really felt. Her hand came into contact with a small wheel. She moved it to the left three times, to the right four times, and then back to the right six more times and the door opened.

It wasn’t exactly a door. It was part of a wall. The room it opened into was mostly used for storage now, though it had been her nursery years ago. There were old pieces of furniture and linens stacked every which way. She knew that was because her mother wanted the room to look unimportant should anyone ever break into the castle hunting the princess. That way, if needed, Kit could potentially use this passage to get around them and escape.

Obviously, that wasn’t what she was using it for now. Opening the armoire, she saw the kitchen worker’s clothing inside where she’d asked Blankka to hide it. She’d purposely worn her stay backward so she could untie it, so it didn’t take long for Kit to change and hide her own dress inside of the cabinet. She unpinned her hair, thinking she should’ve done that before she left her room, and quickly pinned it up into a style more befitting the help. She would still be recognizable to anyone who gave her a careful glance, but at least she wouldn’t announce herself as royalty as she would have in her own clothing with her hair carefully pinned.

Kit glided around the discarded furniture, careful not to bump into anything. Unless her guards had caught wind of her plan, there should be none of them in sight when she opened the door. Careful not to cause a squeak, she turned the knob and pulled it open, glancing out into the hallway before she stepped out. She saw no one.

Moving from shadow to shadow, as quickly as she could go, Kit hurried down the hallways. The hardest parts would be ducking past the infirmary, where Armant’s staff would be up all night tending to patients, and the entry to the kitchen, which was always busy. She got to the infirmary and noticed a nurse hurrying down the hall in her direction. The older woman didn’t seem to notice her, and Kit stepped into an alcove as she passed. Checking to see if there was anyone else and finding the hall empty, Kit proceeded.

She kept her head down as she hustled past the infirmary door since there was a small window to the hallway. No one stopped her. The rest of the hall was clear. She saw no one else until she approached the kitchen. Two men carrying buckets of water were arguing about whether the temperature was warm enough for their lady’s bath. Kit had no idea who they served. It could’ve been a council member or a visiting dignitary. Whoever it was seemed odd for taking a bath this time of night, but it wasn’t Kit’s concern. She was just thankful they were too busy with their discussion to notice her.

Having gotten past those two obstacles, Kit prayed she was home free. She turned a corner, the second to last before she reached the room she was certain Pierce had been using, and the sound of heavy footsteps up ahead made her breath catch in her throat. Kit flattened herself against a wall, mentally begging the soldiers not to come down this hall. She could hear their voices now, their laughter, and was certain they must belong to the Queen’s Guard. If she saw scar face again, she might very well lose her mind, and that would be costly, particularly if he didn’t recognize her and treated her like an angry servant.

The footsteps moved on, and Kit hurried to the end of the hallway where they’d passed. To the left, she saw the trio, still laughing as they walked away from her. She waited until they turned another corner and then rushed down the hall in the opposite direction.

The door she wanted was just ahead on her right. Again, thoughts of the last time she’d come here filled her mind. Her mother’s anger. Her own fear—first of the storm and then of the queen. There was that last thought that always stayed just out of reach, one she couldn’t wrap her mind around.

The door was unlocked, which didn’t surprise Kit since Pierce had been using the room. She doubted her mother would give him a key since most of the keys in the castle opened multiple doors. Kit rushed inside, quietly closing the door behind her, and took a look around.

It was an old bedroom. Only a sliver of light snuck in from beneath the door, and the torch in the hall had been quite a ways down the wall, so it was dim at best. But she remembered exactly what the furniture looked like, how the bed was made.

It had been her great-grandmother’s chambers, Junno’s mother. Queen Irish. This was the oldest part of the castle, and at the time, the passage hadn’t led to the current queen’s opulent chambers but to an exit, in case Irish, who was more like Rona than Junno, needed to make a quick escape. In the daylight, the furniture was regal. A four-poster bed with elegant carvings decorated in gold at the headboard. Matching dressers and tables. A mirror, now rippled by time, that let the queen know if she was the fairest of them all. Kit remembered now, coming in here as a small girl to see the ancient queen before she passed away. It was no wonder she was terrified the last time she’d come in this room, even though Irish had long passed. The last time she’d seen her, the woman had pointed a finger at her grand-granddaughter and shouted, “This one will be our undoing!”

At the time, Rona had told her not to worry, that Irish was old and didn’t know what she spoke of, but Kit was certain part of that always stuck with her mother. If Kit had her way, Irish would soon prove to be an oracle.