Her Reputation (The Empire: Book 1)

by Laura R Cole

  *

  It was long after sunset that Rhys finally gave up waiting by the wool mill. Obviously his contact was not going to show. Discouraged, he made his way back to the palace. Almost as soon as he had entered, he was approached by one of the Queen’s personal guards.

  “The Queen would like to speak with you immediately, Master Rhys. She is in her quarters. I will escort you.”

  Rhys knocked nervously on the door to the Queen’s suite. Being summoned to her quarters in the middle of night was knotting his stomach. After the unfortunate news and resulting accusation of this afternoon, he could only guess what she wanted him for.

  “Ah, Rhys, thank you for coming so quickly,” she said as she opened the door for him. She glanced hurriedly around the hallway while he bowed shortly and entered the room. The guard who had escorted him gave the Queen a nod and resumed his post at her door.

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” he replied, waiting for her to speak.

  “As you are no doubt aware, my daughter has been accused of having something to do with Lord Havensford’s attack.” She paused, her eyes searching his for confirmation, and he gave a small nod. She continued, “The royal investigators are handling the matter, but I am not allowed to be involved.”

  Rhys waited patiently for her to get to the point.

  “But I’m not good at just standing by while my daughter is in trouble. If, say, one of the young men with whom my daughter associates felt the need to look into it himself, how could I stop him? I would not be against someone finding out what’s been discovered in the investigation – discreetly – and perhaps even doing a little digging of their own. I cannot for the life of me figure out why the man would have been the subject of an attack, and such information could give us the clues we need to find the real culprit behind it.”

  Rhys bowed again. “I understand, Your Majesty.”

  “Good,” Queen Layna said, her voice low. “But do not get caught.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Rhys answered wryly.

  She looked down at her desk at a small package that sat there. Rhys had noticed it immediately, but was trying not to stare at it. “You see the package on the desk?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “It contains fifty gold coins.” She locked eyes with him. “I am going to go look out the window now, and I’m quite sure that I wouldn’t notice if the package somehow disappeared.”

  She turned away and walked to the window as she’d promised. Rhys hesitated a moment; he didn’t fully trust his assessment of her meaning and would hate to get caught stealing from the Queen if that wasn’t really her intention. And he would help Phoenix without the money. But it would help stave off the beating he was sure to receive after evading Jessup. He reached forward and snatched it from the table and quickly tucked it into his shirt.

  “I assure you,” the Queen added as she turned back to him, completely ignoring the missing package, “that it is ridiculous that the Princess would do such a thing.”

  “You don’t have to convince me, Your Majesty,” he said, making it clear that he had no doubt of her innocence. The Queen nodded.

  Rhys paused a moment before asking. “Why do you trust me, Your Majesty?” Knowing all she did about his less-than-stellar track record, he found it astonishing that she was putting so much faith in him.

  She smiled. “I may count the coins in my purse when you leave, my dear Rhys, but I have no question about the good in your heart. You will do what is right, especially concerning my daughter.”

  Leaving her with a final bow, he exited her chambers. The Queen needn’t have asked him to look into the matter as he had already begun making inquires. But now, with the Queen’s implied approval, he felt better about breaking into a few rooms. Not that the slight guilt he felt would have stopped him anyway, but he still felt better knowing that he was now working with the Queen’s support. Though he respected her decision to abide by the laws herself and allow the royal investigators to make inquires, he would have been disappointed in her had she not had some sort of back-up to ensure Phoenix’s best protection.

  The pounding steps of guards echoed along the stone walls, and Rhys ducked behind a statue to allow them to pass. No need to have any of them report him being out and about so late at night. He already had enough people suspicious of him.

  He waited until the footsteps were faint before emerging from his hiding spot and stepping lithely down the hallway towards the outlying rooms. These were reserved for the visiting lords and ladies from outlying districts when they came for extended stays at the royal court. Lord Havensford’s room was among them, though the lord himself was currently under guard in the infirmary.

  The man’s room was guarded as well, two men stood stationed outside, their hard faces peering around warily. The flickering light from the candles on the walls accentuated their features, making them look all the more intimidating.

  Rhys paused around the corner, peeking out at them. They did not look like ones who could be persuaded to let him pass. Nor did the set-up of the rooms offer him any sort of protection from prying eyes to slip past. The room itself was an internal one, so there would be no windows for him to climb in through. He tried to remember the secret passages that ran through this part of the palace, but to the extent of his knowledge, there were none. He sighed.

  Retreating back around the corner and putting his back against the wall, he opened himself to the power. He hated to use up one of his very expensive charms, but it was worth it if it cleared Phoenix. Despite his mother’s impressive talent, Rhys seemed to have inherited more of his father’s talent, or rather lack thereof, for working with magic. But he did have enough to activate charms and spells that other people had prepared and even work some smaller spells of his own.

  He whispered the word of power to the charm, holding it in front of him. It suddenly shimmered and disappeared. His hands followed suit, their outlines waving as though they were simply reflections in a rippling pool. Then they disappeared completely. His arms faded out next, the nothingness slowly creeping up to his core. It was an eerie feeling, seeing yourself disappear. Rhys had to look away as he grew queasy from the sight. A few moments later, he reopened his eyes and peered into the reflection in the shining suit of armor he’d been hiding behind. He saw nothing but the expanse of hallway beyond him.

  He moved carefully into the hallway, waiting until the men’s piercing gaze swept towards him, then past him without so much as a second glance. The charm was working. Very slowly, so as not to make a sound, he crept forward. With agonizing care, all the while lamenting the draining of the charm in the time it took him to do so, he laid a hand on the door’s knob. With infinite patience, he turned it ever so slightly. The guards were positioned one on either side of the door, and Rhys glanced at each of them to make sure they hadn’t noticed him. Even though they couldn’t see him, if they thought something was amiss they would check inside and run straight into him. The charm did not make him intangible. He felt the latch unhinge and winced at the soft click it made. The guards didn’t seem to notice. Rhys gently opened the door the tiniest bit. The two men would be sure to notice if he opened it so far that he could slip through, but he only needed it a fraction of an inch and the guards would do the rest.

  He backed up a few paces and positioned himself to that he could see the room beyond the sliver of an opening. Then he raised his hand and touched the power. Concentrating all his efforts on a book sitting on the desk within, he willed it to move. The book teetered on the edge of the desk while sweat ran down Rhys’s brow from the effort of controlling the power for this task. Finally, it tilted upwards, hanging in balance for a long moment before crashing to the ground below.

  Both guards flew into action. One stood by the entrance while the other took hold of the knob and pushed the door open the rest of the way. He peered inside, his body blocking the doorway. Rhys sidled cl
oser. The man opened the door farther and stepped inside, examining the room. Rhys slipped past him and into the room.

  He stayed motionless while the guard searched the room thoroughly, only letting out a soft sigh of relief as the door clicked shut behind the guard as the man resumed his post. Whispering another word to the charm to save its power, his hands shimmered back into view. Once he’d reappeared, he set straight to work. He shuffled through the papers at the man’s desk but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Letters to relatives back home in the southern section of the old Treymayne, a book on sight-seeing in the city, and an invitation to Phoenix’s birthday party. There was a large blot of ink above the “i” where the writer’s pen had obviously leaked a bit. Rhys picked this up and stared at the invitation a moment. Poor Phoenix. He was certain that the events that had transpired since that day were not her birthday wish.

  Abandoning the desk, he moved on to the chest by the foot of the bed. He rifled through the clothing on top, looking for the more personal items usually kept below. A small dagger, a ring of his house’s formal insignia, more useless papers. Rhys dropped everything back into the chest. Nothing out of the ordinary. He piled the clothes back on top and looked around the room, rubbing his chin.

  Suddenly, a voice sounded outside the door.

  “We’ve come to investigate the victim’s quarters.” There was a shuffling of papers as the investigators showed the guards their credentials in order to pass.

  Rhys panicked. He dove behind the dresser before remembering his invisibility charm, which he quickly invoked. Then he maneuvered himself to the doorway to make his exit when it was opened for the investigators. He wasn’t at all sure how long the charm would last, and he had no intention of being caught in the victim’s quarters when it ran out.

  Seeing his opportunity, he dashed out the clear doorway and into the hallway. His steps weren’t completely silent, and one of the guards looked suspiciously down the passage. Seeing nothing, the guard did no more than glare into the empty space. Rhys wasted no time in putting as much distance as he could between himself and the guards before stepping behind a tapestry to become visible again. The charm sputtered, flared to life, and then died. Apparently, that had been the extent of it.

  Rhys sighed. Wasted. He’d found nothing of use in the chambers whatsoever. He froze as raised voices could suddenly be heard growing nearer.

  “You’ve always been like this, I was just naïve enough to think that you would change,” a woman’s voice accused another.

  “What exactly did you think would change, hmm?”

  “Well, I thought you might stop,” she answered exasperatedly.

  Rhys tried not to breathe as the speakers passed, still arguing. He peeked out around the edge of the tapestry and confirmed his suspicion. The female voice sounded familiar indeed. It was none other than the Lady Aria. The weasel-looking fellow must be her husband, Lord Noam. Rhys remembered seeing him from time to time at formal functions, but the two were rarely seen together otherwise. This must be why.

  The conversation sparked his interest. The argument had obviously been started by something recently. Perhaps the lord had an appetite for other women. It was possible even that Lord Havensford had witnessed such a tryst and Noam had attempted to cover it up and been unsuccessful. Or perhaps the tryst had been with the Lord Havensford himself. That would certainly explain why the lord had no qualms about letting his beautiful wife live alone in the palace while he spent most of his time in the country with his boy.

  But Lady Aria didn’t have any talent. Rhys had no idea whether or not the lord did, and made a mental note to check on it. If Noam had attempted to quiet Havensford, even a simple mind-control to make the man forget such a tryst occurring could go wrong and potentially cause the coma. It was a possibility.

  With the quarrelers safely out of sight, Rhys moved out from behind the tapestry and strolled nonchalantly down the hallway. At least I have something to work on, he thought.

  He rounded the corner and nearly ran into one of the heralds.

  “Ah, young Master Rhys,” Herald Siajan greeted him. “What has you out so late?”

  “Couldn’t sleep,” Rhys replied. “I have a lot on my mind.”

  “You are a friend of the Princess, are you not?” the man stated. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “We heard of the difficulties she is facing. She is such a sweet girl; I do not see her being responsible for such an act.”

  “Nor do I,” Rhys agreed.

  “I wonder,” the man began after a moment of awkward silence, “if you could point me in the direction of the gardens? I was on my way there to enjoy the night sky but seem to have gotten rather turned around.”

  “Of course,” Rhys replied, offering up the directions. He distrustfully watched the man go. He had been wandering around the palace in search of the gardens this late?

  Rhys changed his course and stepped lithely behind the herald. He stayed far enough behind to escape detection but didn’t let the man get so far ahead that he would lose Rhys if he went off course. The man followed his directions perfectly, however, emerging into the gardens under the night sky. Instead of gazing upwards, though, the man glued his eyes to the ground. Rhys watched curiously as the man walked this way and that, stopping now and again to examine a plant.

  After a while, he stopped in front of one and broke a branch off. The plant bent with a wet snapping sound, and the man quickly tucked the foliage away in his robes before glancing around and making a beeline for the doors to the palace. Obviously, he’d found what he’d come for.

  Rhys abandoned tailing the herald, deciding instead to find what it was that the man had come here to find. He slunk forward, keeping his eyes on the spot that the man had left, and came to stand before the unknown plant. One branch among the many neatly-trimmed ones stood out where it had been ripped off. He looked down to try and determine what the plant was, but he was no expert. It was some kind of pretty flowering plant; that was the extent of his knowledge.

  He looked around before tearing off another branch of the abused bush. Then he hurried away. Tomorrow he would take it to Wren’s father, Lord Aaron, to see if he could identify it. If anyone knew what it was, he would.