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“My apologies,” he rasped. “I did not intend to startle you. This female you saw… did she have red hair?”
“No, sir,” Rita murmured, glancing away with signs of discomfort. “I didn’t get a terribly clear look at her, but her hair was black as night.”
Polly chortled. “Rita, you know that doesn’t mean anything. The higher-ups wear wigs if they are born unfortunate like Peg was. Remember, she had to shave her hair down to the scalp and cover it with a sash every day under threat of punishment from the guard.”
Rita hummed in agreement and looked to the first among them. “What do you think, Lara? You got a look too. Do you think it could be a wig?”
Lara’s lips pressed together, and her brow furrowed. “Just might be. The wigs are getting more elaborate these days so that sometimes it is difficult to tell, but I would bet every penny in my pocket she was wearing a fancy wig. Especially with all of them pearls hanging from her hair. No one is going to have patience to sit for hours while a maid does all that.”
“Where might I find her?” Rager inquired. It occurred to him only belatedly that perhaps he didn’t do so well hiding the hint of threat from his voice. A male—a huntsman—was daring to join with his triad’s mate. Fury burned in his stomach relentlessly. The women shifted warily, exchanging uncertain glances. Rita gently nudged Lara.
Lara licked her lips nervously. “Well, that’s the thing. No one really knows where she is. The First Elite is keeping everything secret, but what is certain is that she’s not there at his mansion. The family is apparently very private, and the details are being concealed until the day of the joining ceremony. Even then, only those who are invited will know.”
“Who and what is the First Elite and where might I find him?”
“Oh, you don’t want to confront him on his own turf. That would be suicide,” Rita hissed. “The mansion sits on a large estate on the grounds of the Order of the Huntsmen. He is the head of the entire organization, and so they protect him more than they would their own fathers.”
Her eyes flickered as Kyx and Warol crouched beside him. No doubt his brothers had also heard the discussion among the females and had decided to join them. The females seemed to shrink in the face of Warol’s fury, as his ears lay flattened against his skull and his four yellow eyes focused on them with a burning, single-minded intensity. Even his lips were drawn back from his teeth, lending a certain ferocity to his features. Unfortunately, Kyx, as badly scarred as he now was, no longer possessed a cheerful, comforting visage to counterbalance it. Fortunately, Cyrus had decided to join him, and the females smiled as his inserted himself among them.
Kyx glanced up at the male before turning his attention back to Lara. “Do you think that there may be a way for one of your number to find out the location of this ceremony?” he queried in a soft voice.
“Maybe,” Lara said slowly. “None of the Guild has direct access to the grounds of the Order, not since the incident that occurred on their land twenty-five years ago. We had a maid in another mansion further back on the property—the ancestral house. She helped a young woman, the daughter of the woman she served, escape. Word is that she died with her mistress. Since then, measures have been far more rigorously enforced.”
Cyrus’s eyes sharpened. “But you have something, correct?”
She nodded reluctantly. “I do have an older sister who works in the mansion who could probably keep her ear open for information as long as we guaranteed her safety. She won’t help if she believes there is any way this could come back on her. The Order has a long, vindictive arm as you know, Cyrus.”
“Consider it done. I will personally guarantee it. Have her see what she can find but avoid notice. If, for whatever reason, she believes she is in danger, I will protect her here in our Court.”
Lara smiled with relief. “I am certain she will be grateful to hear that, Cyrus. Working for the Order, and especially First Elite Edwar, isn’t a joy for anyone. Your personal guarantee will be all she needs to help us.”
“This means we still must wait,” Warol pointed out irritably.
“Yes, my dear furry fiend, it means we wait,” Cyrus said with a chuckle.
“I hate waiting,” Warol said as he pulled at an ear in frustration. Kyx laid a companionable arm around their brother’s shoulders and, surprisingly, Warol did not shrug it off. Instead, he sighed heavily and leaned into Kyx.
Chapter
Thirty-Four
After the party, Maddi continued to visit every day. Arie was still covertly attempting to scope out a workable escape plan, so the fact that Maddi was more than happy to lend to the effort was gratifying. Unfortunately, they hadn’t come up with anything that wasn’t likely to get them caught or killed. On the plus side, Maddi’s carefully cultivated image meant that no one caught on to their plotting. In fact, their grandmother approved of them spending as much time as possible together, believing that Maddi would teach Arie appropriate behavior for entering her place in society. Instead, they were taking every opportunity to conspire behind her back. Naturally, they couldn’t go far, and were always watched, but they walked together, heads bent, as they passed through the garden, whispering to each other.
They were careful to never raise their voice above a whisper, regardless of whether they were in the gardens, lounging in the parlor, or secluded in Arie’s private chambers. Even then, they often changed the inflections in their whisperings to make it seem as if they were exchanging meaningless gossip, randomly giggling as they did so. Whenever they laughed the guards relaxed and smiled. Even their grandmother didn’t seem to suspect anything. In fact, she seemed to go out of her way to avoid them whenever they were together, as if she couldn’t abide their silliness. The more effort they put into their performance; the more Lady Vera stayed far away from them.
“I suppose she thinks we are silly, brainless women,” Maddi said with a laugh as she cracked a walnut and handed the meat to Arie.
“I hope so. We’ve worked hard to give her that impression,” Arie returned, popping the morsel into her mouth. “By now, she believes I have resigned myself to my fate and have taken you, my dear cousin, as my bosom companion. She no longer pays any attention to where I go—not that it has helped much. I have been walking all through this mansion and have yet to find any place where I might sneak out unnoticed.”
“I did tell you that plan was a long shot,” Maddi said, sighing.
“What we need is a diversion. Like an explosion, or an attack.”
“Lovely idea, and just where are we going to find that? I’m afraid I left my explosives and arsenal in my other skirt.” Maddi tapped her finger on the table beside her. “Actually, a distraction is not a bad idea, if only we can get word out among the right circles.”
“Right circles?” Arie arched an eyebrow at her cousin.
“Whether you want to believe it or not, you are in a distinct position. The people will rally around you, and many are not happy at all with the power of the Order. It is, as I am sure you understand, an unpleasant yoke for the people of our Citadel to live under. People tolerate it because they know no other way and are uncertain what direction they should take. If you stand against them, the people will follow… and you will be lacking no little aid from one quarter specifically.”
