Cade shook his head. “We need to know what Leon is going to say. If you’re waiting just outside, someone could announce your presence before I want them to see you.”
I nodded. “Okay, so I’m your ace in the hole, waiting behind a door no one would go to because it’s sealed shut.”
“Exactly.” Cade sounded relieved. “One of them is counting on you being absent.”
I could read between the lines. Either Jesaiah had attacked me on his own like I suspected—king of the little hill desperate to keep his spot—or Leon had some hand in it, meaning that it hadn’t been random; it had been purposeful. If that was true, what was the larger political play, and why was Leon, one of the few people that Cade trusted, making it?
Rhys clapped their hands. “This is more drama than that time I went to summer camp and I came home and Mike and Annie had already gotten married because he got her pregnant.”
“Rhys.” Cade paused, considering his words. “You understand that you aren’t allowed to tell anyone this. Any of it.”
Heaving a dramatic sigh, Rhys gestured with one arm, almost knocking over Nia. “But this is all anyone is going to be talking about in my salon for weeks. Prince Cade with the drama! Leon with the false accusations! The servants’ door opening!”
“Rhys,” Cade said severely. “You will be able to listen to gossip, but the very safety of our house is in danger.”
Rhys sobered, their expression closing down, brows pulled together in a frown. “Of course, my prince.”
They bowed, and next to them, Nia did the same.
With that dealt with, Cade turned to me, and I pulled back my shoulders as he approached. He brushed a hand across the seam of the shirt, pulling it straight. His fingers reached up, touching the high neck. I could feel the heat of his fingertips through the fabric.
When he looked up at me, there was a question in his gaze, and I raised an eyebrow, shrugging. How was I supposed to know how his magic, sentient snake was doing?
I jerked my chin toward where Rhys and Nia stood, Rhys whispering about clothing choices and how if they’d known it was going to be such a dramatic moment, they would have dressed with more flair. If anyone was going to give the game up, they were my bet.
Cade pulled his lips to the side, his expression making it clear that desperate times called for trusting the person in House Bartlett who was the most likely to spill his secrets over a cocktail.
Cade pulled his hand back and turned toward the door. I fell into step behind him. This, at least, was familiar. I could play the part of the growling security, the silent muscle. Declan had me do it often, especially after he learned that I saw everything and was able to make my own calculations about risk and politics in any given situation.
At the top of the stairs, Cade looked over the banister. He frowned.
I didn’t need to look to see what was beyond. I could hear the murmur of voices as people moved toward the formal dining room we had eaten in the night before.
“Looks like you might not get a chance for the dramatic entrance,” I said.
“Trust me,” Rhys said, leaning over. “If there’s one thing our prince knows how to do, it’s a dramatic entrance. He’ll find a way.”
When Cade spun, shooting Rhys a narrow-eyed look, they held up their hands and stepped backward. “Sorry, but youknowit’s true. Don’t you remember that time you spilled cranberry juice all over Auntie Diana’s white Easter dress just because she said you had used your magic in the Easter hunt? She couldn’t show her face for weeks!”
“Wait up here. When everyone enters the dining room, get into the servants’ corridors. The doorway is blocked and warded, so you won’t be able to hear anything. Just wait for me to open it. Nia should know the way there.” Cade turned to her, raising a questioning eyebrow.
She dipped her chin low, not raising it until Cade swept down the stairs, Rhys in his wake.
I gritted my teeth in annoyance. “Sure. Ask me to protect you, and then walk into a room with a bunch of dangerous magic users. It’s not like that would be a good situation to have a bodyguard in.”
Exhaling a short breath, I paced to one wall, turning immediately and walking in the other direction until I hit the wall on the other side of the hallway.
I could feel Nia’s eyes on me, tracking me as I moved. The conversation downstairs quieted immediately when Cade got to the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t say anything, and I heard everyone follow him down the hallway silently. Then, the hall was quiet.
I turned to Nia, raising my eyebrows in a question. She tilted her head, listening. I did the same, and I heard soft footsteps. The clatter of silverware on porcelain. It disappeared in the other direction from the guests. Then nothing.
Nia jerked her chin once in a nod. We prowled down the stairs, my senses on high alert. Every noise made me turn; every shift in light had my full attention.
Crossing the hallway, Nia pressed her palm to a nearly invisible seam in the wall, and a door popped open. We both slipped inside, shutting it behind us.
Once inside, my shoulders relaxed slightly. If Cade was right about the doorway being sealed, there shouldn’t be any servants walking the corridors during a formal dinner. I followed Nia as she led her way through the house. The corridors moved strangely, weaving in and around rooms. For the first time, I wondered how they worked. How did they not block a doorway or a window?
The house should be larger than it was, and given the stretch of the hall, we should have run into a window at some point. We walked through what felt like a doorway, and I shivered, the magic making goose bumps rise on my arms.
