“Well, then, allow me the honor of being the first to pledge allegiance, my queen.” Wexel lowered his lips to hers.
The two of them started kissing again, although Corvina quickly broke it off and tilted her head toward the open door. “Let’s go inside. Someone might see us out here.”
Wexel grinned. “I thought the risk of getting caught was part of the appeal.”
Corvina returned his grin with a wicked one of her own. “Definitely. But it’s too cold to fuck out here. I want a warm bed tonight—with you in it.”
She grabbed the front of his jacket and tugged him inside. The door banged shut behind them, and Corvina’s soft laughter drifted out through the glass. I remained frozen in place on the balcony railing, still clutching the drainpipe.
Milo was fucking Emperia, his fiancée’s mother, while Corvina, his fiancée, was fucking Captain Wexel, Milo’s personal guard. Talk about tangled webs—and deadly ones as well. Everyone had their eyes on the Mortan crown, and they would scheme, fuck, kill, and do whatever else it took in order to snag that ultimate prize.
If Maeven found out about any of this, especially Milo’s plot to depose her, then she would probably kill every last one of them, including her own son. Milo, Emperia, Corvina, and Wexel thought that Maeven was a fool, but they underestimated the queen at their own peril.
Maeven might be older now, but she was no doubt wiser, given how many of her own schemes against Everleigh Blair and Grandfather Heinrich had failed over the years. I was willing to bet the queen had her own plans in place to counter any move that Milo, the Dumonds, or anyone else made against her.
My head was spinning with information, but I still needed to get down to the ground. Corvina and Wexel might come back out onto the balcony, and it was too risky to stay here. So I wrapped my hands around the drainpipe again and stepped off the railing, but my feet were numb with cold, and my toes just wouldn’t grip the slick stone. My hands were chilled too, and they started to slide downward.
I lurched to the side. I managed to get one foot back onto the narrow balcony railing, but my other foot slipped off.
That one small motion threw me even more off balance. I lost my grip on the drainpipe completely and plummeted toward the ground.
Chapter Twenty
Somehow, I managed not to scream. My arms and legs flailed wildly, searching for something to latch onto, but my fingers and toes met only cold, empty air.
Desperate, I reached for my magic, trying to use my mind magier power to propel my body toward the palace wall, but I couldn’t quite get a grip on my power, and the ground rushed toward me at a dizzying rate. I cringed and braced for impact—
At the last instant, right before I would have slammed into the ground, a shadow darted underneath my body. I landed directly on top of it, knocking it down. The shadow grunted and dropped like a heavy brick.
Thump-thump.
The shadow hit the courtyard, and then I plowed into the shadow a moment later.
The hard, jolting impact knocked the air from my lungs and made my head spin again, but I rolled to my right, dimly wondering what had broken my fall. I slipped off whatever I’d landed on and ended up hitting the flagstones after all. Pain spiked through my ass and rippled up my spine, and a low groan escaped my lips.
Something shifted beside me, and a shadow loomed over me, blocking out the light streaming out of the palace windows. I blinked, and a pair of bright sapphire-blue eyes slowly came into focus.
“Grimley?” I whispered.
The gargoyle leaned down and licked my cheek, his rough tongue scraping against my skin, but not unpleasantly so. “Of course, runt. Who else would save you from falling to your death?”
Joy shot through me, overpowering my pain, and I scrambled up onto my knees and threw my arms around his neck. “Grims! I’m so happy you’re here! That you’re okay!”
The gargoyle shuffled closer and gently wrapped his wings around me. His love enveloped me, as soft and warm as a fuzzy blanket covering my body. The sensation drowned out some of my aches and pains, and a tight knot of tension loosened around my heart. Suddenly, I could breathe much easier, even though I’d just had the wind knocked out of me. I had been so worried about Grimley flying through Morta. Not that him being at the palace was much safer, but at least we were together again.
I drew back and scratched Grimley’s forehead, right in between his two horns, just how he liked. The gargoyle leaned into my touch, his wings stroking down my back.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” he said in his low, gravelly voice. “It was harder to avoid the strixes and the guards than I thought. Stupid birds. Stupid Mortans.”
I smiled, but before I could respond, the crunch-crunch-crunch-crunch of footsteps sounded. My head snapped around, and I spotted a couple of fluorestone lanterns bobbing along in the distance. Someone had entered the far side of the courtyard.
I scrambled to my feet, hurried over, and ducked behind some liladorn vines that had twined together to form a large bush. Grimley loped over and hunkered down beside me.
The lanterns grew brighter and closer, and two palace guards stepped into view. The men ambled along, not in any particular hurry, but they were vigilant, shining their lanterns into every corner of the courtyard, their free hands resting on the swords hooked to their belts.
Shall I kill them so that we can escape? Grimley’s voice snarled in my mind, and his long tail twitched.
No. I can’t leave the palace until I find out more about Milo Morricone’s plans for the tearstone.
Haven’t you done that already? What have you been doing all day? I flew over a mountain, caught three rabbits, snuck into the palace, and saved you.
I rolled my eyes at his superior, chiding tone. I’ve been trying not to rouse suspicion about who I really am.
And failing miserably, if I was being honest. Reiko Yamato knew exactly who I was, and Maeven also seemed highly suspicious of me, but I didn’t mention any of that to Grimley. He would try to get me to leave, and I wasn’t going home without knowing exactly what Milo was plotting.
The guards stopped and shone their lanterns at the liladorn bush. I slid my hand into my pocket, clutching the dagger still hidden there. The guards were just doing their jobs, but I would kill them if I had to.
After a few long, tense seconds, the guards lowered their lanterns, walked past our hiding spot, and wandered out the other side of the courtyard.
I exhaled, released my dagger, and reached out with my magic, but their presences quickly faded away. The guards were gone.
“Come on,” I whispered. “I need to return to my chambers, and we need to find someplace for you to hide and rest.”
Grimley nodded and fell in step beside me as I moved out from behind the liladorn bush and left the courtyard.
* * *
To my consternation, dozens of guards were roaming through the grounds, and it took Grimley and me almost an hour to avoid the men, sneak from one courtyard to the next, and wind our way back to the deserted wing where my chambers were located.
Finally, we reached the courtyard underneath my balcony. I glanced up at the other balcony, the one that led into Leonidas’s library, but the doors were closed, and no lights shone through the glass.
Disappointment filled me. Leonidas hadn’t used his magic to try to contact me while I’d been skulking around the palace, probably because he didn’t want Milo or anyone else to sense us using our magic. I would have done the same if our positions had been reversed and he’d been the one trapped in Milo’s workshop. But a small part of me had been hoping that he would be pacing in his library, waiting for me to escape, to return. That he would be concerned about me. That he would feel . . . something for me, the same way I felt this strange, unwanted something for him.
I should have known better, though. A Morricone would never be concerned about anything other than a Ripley’s death.
I tore my gaze away from his balcony and pointed at
my own. “My chambers are there. Help me up?”
Grimley hunkered down, and I climbed onto his back. The gargoyle flapped his wings, and we shot upward. A few seconds later, I slid down off Grimley’s back and onto the balcony. He tucked his wings into his sides and perched on the railing like he was a statue that had been positioned there.
“You’re sure that you don’t want to leave now?” he rumbled. “We could be out of the city before sunrise.”
I hesitated. It was after midnight, and most people were asleep, except for the guards. I could hop onto Grimley’s back and let him fly me out of the palace and away from Majesta to the relative safety of the surrounding countryside. I knew that Milo was making tearstone weapons, and his barbed arrow was still nestled in my pocket. I could return to Andvari right now, and everyone, including my father and grandfather, would have to admit that my spy mission and unexpected foray into Morta had been a great success.
But I still had far more questions than answers. Milo might be making weapons and plotting to assassinate his mother, but who were the true enemies he’d mentioned? And why did he think tearstone arrows would help achieve his ultimate goal, whatever it was? I couldn’t leave Myrkvior until I knew more about Milo’s plans. Thwarting his scheme was the best way to defend Andvari.
And I was also concerned about another prince—Leonidas.
Like it or not, he had saved my life, and I had given him my word that I would help him figure out what was going on. At the very least, I needed to stay at Myrkvior long enough to warn Leonidas that he was in even more danger than he suspected, that Milo was planning to kill him and marry off Delmira. The prince and princess had both been kind to me in their own ways, and neither one of them deserved to suffer—or die—just because Milo wanted to be king right now instead of waiting for the natural order of things.
As for whether to tell Leonidas that Milo was planning to assassinate Maeven . . . Well, I didn’t know what to do about that. Of course Leonidas already had his suspicions, but part of me wanted to keep quiet and let it happen. That would be one way to finally avenge Uncle Frederich, Lord Hans, and everyone else who had died during the Seven Spire massacre.
Oh, I might not have the satisfaction of actually killing Maeven myself, but it would still be a bloody sweet revenge. Let the bitch suffer the same way I had during the massacre. Let her feel the same fear, pain, terror, and panic I had that awful day. Let her see death slowly, inexorably approaching and realize there was nothing she could do to stop it, nothing she could do to save herself—
“Gemma?” Grimley asked, cutting into my murderous thoughts. “What’s wrong? Why are you clutching your pendant?”
I glanced down. My fingers had unconsciously fisted around the gargoyle pendant hidden underneath my dress. The pendant had gone ice-cold against my skin, trying to contain the magic rising up inside me, the raw, brutal power that I yearned to unleash against Maeven.
I exhaled, forced my fist to open, and dropped my hand to my side. The pendant remained ice-cold against my skin, but the chill didn’t numb the memories or the white-hot rage still pounding in my heart.
“Gemma?” Grimley asked again.
“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just thinking. As much as I would like to, I can’t leave. Not yet.”
His face scrunched into a frown. “The longer you stay, the more danger you’ll be in.”
He was right. Every second I stayed at Myrkvior was a risk. I might have made promises to Leonidas, but I had also made them to Topacia and my father, and I had to weigh my own safety against whatever information I might uncover. A compromise, then.
“Give me the day to snoop around and see what else I can find out about Milo’s plans. Then I’ll sneak out of the queen’s birthday ball, and we’ll leave.”
Grimley’s frown deepened, but he leaned forward and licked my hand. “Very well,” he grumbled. “As long as you stay out of trouble in the meantime.”
“Don’t I always?”
He snorted. “Never.”
I grinned and scratched his head again. “Well, you’re the one who’s going to be in trouble if you don’t find someplace to hide. See if Lyra can help you. I asked her to watch out for you earlier, and she’s probably flying around the palace searching for you. If you’re nice to her, maybe she’ll find you a quiet tower or parapet to sleep on.”
Grimley snorted again. “I can find my own tower. Although the bird is an excellent hunter. Perhaps she could help me track down a rat or two to nibble on,” he admitted, a bit of grudging respect rumbling through his voice.
He nuzzled his head up against mine, then drew back, flapped his wings, and shot up into the sky. Another smile stretched across my face. Despite the danger I was still in, things were so much better now that he was here—
Creak.
One of the balcony doors swung open, and a shadow fell over me. I shoved my hand into my pocket. The tearstone arrow was the first thing I felt, so I yanked it out and whirled around to face the enemy sneaking up on me.
The arrow wasn’t the easiest weapon to wield, but I gripped it like a dagger and lashed out with it, and the black-cloaked figure scrambled away. I lunged forward, whipping the arrow from side to side and driving the figure back across the balcony.
The figure banged into one of the closed doors, and I charged ahead, preparing to plunge the arrow into my enemy. The figure jerked to the side, and the black hood slipped off its head, revealing a familiar face.
I stopped short, the tip of the arrow an inch away from Leonidas’s throat.
He stared at me, wariness filling his eyes. We stayed like that, frozen in place, for several seconds.
I let out a breath, stepped back, and lowered the arrow. “Sorry. I thought you were . . .”
“Who?”
“Milo, Emperia, Corvina, Wexel, Maeven. Take your pick.” My eyes narrowed. “Why are you sneaking into my room in the middle of the night?”
“I was worried about you.”
The simple admission made something warm and treacherous pool in my heart, but I crossed my arms over my chest, careful not to poke myself with the arrow. “Well, you have a funny way of showing it, leaving me behind in Milo’s workshop. It’s a wonder I didn’t get caught and executed.”
Leonidas grimaced. “That wasn’t me—that was the liladorn. It has a mind of its own. Sometimes, it . . . interferes, although I’ve never quite understood why.”
He glanced at a nearby vine, a puzzled look on his face. I frowned. Could Leonidas not sense the presence in the liladorn? Could he not hear its voice like I could? Strange. If anyone could communicate with the vines, then it should be the prince. Then again, all mind magiers were different, and no one’s magic worked exactly the same way. Still, I found it curious that I could speak to the liladorn, and he seemingly could not.
Leonidas turned his gaze back to me. “It wasn’t my intention to leave you behind. The liladorn shut me off from the workshop, then dragged me through the secret passageway and spat me out in the rookery. By the time I made it through the palace and back over to Milo’s wing, I couldn’t sense your presence anywhere near his workshop. So I took a chance that you had escaped, and returned here to wait for you.”
He cleared his throat. “Even if you had gotten caught, I would have protected you. I would never just abandon you.”
That warm, treacherous pool in my heart expanded, oozing down into my stomach and spreading out to other areas. Still, his words reminded me of our childhood encounters. No matter how intriguing I found the Morricone prince, I needed to remember that he had betrayed me back then and he would betray me again now in a heartbeat, if he ever realized who I really was.
Leonidas’s gaze swept over my gown, which was torn and dirty, along with the rest of me. “Are you okay?” He frowned. “Where are your shoes?”
“I’m fine. My shoes are in my pockets. I had to take them off to climb down the roof.”
He blinked in surprise. “You climbed down the roo
f? Is that how you got out of Milo’s workshop?”
“Yes. I climbed up the wall to the window in Milo’s workshop and then out onto the roof.”
He pointed at the arrow in my hand. “Why do you still have that?”
“Because Milo used the tearstone to make this arrow, and probably many more just like it.” I held out the weapon where he could see it.
Leonidas studied the projectile, then let out a low whistle. “That is a nasty design, especially those hooked barbs lining the arrowhead. How long were you in Milo’s workshop? Did he say anything about the arrow?”
“Long enough,” I muttered, thinking of how the liladorn had trapped me against the wall. “Milo said a few vague things, including something about an old armory. I think that is where he’s keeping the other arrows he’s made. Do you know where it is?”
Leonidas’s face hardened. “I know exactly where that is. Did Milo say anything else?”
He was deliberately changing the subject, although I wasn’t sure why. Still, I pretended not to notice that he hadn’t revealed where the old armory was.
“Milo didn’t say anything else important about the arrows. He was much more interested in seducing his paramour.”
Surprise flickered across Leonidas’s face. “Corvina was in the workshop?”
“Not Corvina—Emperia.”
Leonidas blinked, as if he was wondering whether he’d heard me correctly, but then understanding filled his face. “Oh.”
“Yes, oh. The two of them were getting quite cozy when I slipped out the window.”
He started pacing back and forth. “That is troublesome.”
“Why?”
He sighed and kept pacing. “Emperia Dumond wants nothing more than to kill my mother and take the throne for herself. And now she’s fucking Milo to get him to help her do it.” A low, bitter laugh tumbled out of his lips. “Not that she’ll have much luck. Emperia might think she’s manipulating Milo, but she is the one who will end up being sorry in the end. My brother is far cleverer than anyone thinks.”
I hesitated, torn about how much more information to reveal. Leonidas had already guessed most of what Milo and Emperia were planning. I could keep quiet about everything else I’d heard, but I didn’t want Delmira to suffer because of my silence—or him either.
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