Marion places her cloth napkin on the table and folds her hands in her lap. “While it’s true that we aren’t included in the meetings, we do have our husbands’ ears. I don’t know about Ashwood, but it’s not terribly difficult to get Highgate to change his mind. You simply have to know which levers to pull,” she says with a flirtatious wiggle of her brow. “But first things first.” She wipes an invisible speck of lint from her dress and pushes away from the table. She pulls the bell in the corner of the room, and a few moments later, her attendant arrives.
“Lady Ashwood and I would like to go walking.In town.”
“Oh!” Her maid’s eyes widen, and she curtsys before locking the main door behind her and disappearing into an adjoining room.
“In town?” I ask. “I thought you couldn’t leave the palace.”
“Ican’t.”
The attendant returns with two sets of plain maid’s uniforms neatly folded and stacked. “I hid them so well,I nearly couldn’t find them.” She chuckles, offering one first to Marion and then to me.
“We have to hurry,” Marion says and quickly begins to unfasten her gown. “Four can be long-winded, but on the off chance he’s quick and to the point, I don’t want to be gone long enough for Highgate to have questions. Plus, I’ve arranged a meeting between you, Ashwood, and the queen…and the rest of the court, but that’s only because Lady Whitmore—”
“Wait.” I shake my head, the dress limp in my hand. “We’re sneaking out?”
“You said you want to inspire change. Well, how else do you plan to discover what is truly plaguing the people of Pentacles if not by going out to witness it firsthand? There is a difference between being told the kingdom is suffering and seeing it for yourself.” Marion is the perfect mannequin, still and poised as her attendant tugs her fancy dress off her body. “Perhaps this will be the beginning of the change we so badly need. And how perfect that it will be right before tea with the queen where you will be able to discuss your concerns.”
Shit.
I should be stealthily extracting information from Marion about when to best resume my own private tour of the palace so I can locate the Empress card and leave this world before I’m found out, but instead I’m shedding my clothes and slipping into the attendant’s plain cotton dress.
Why can’t you just keep your mouth shut, Hannah?
I stand in front of Marion’s full-length, gold-framed mirror and tie the apron around my waist.
“How do I look?” I ask, brushing my braid from my shoulder and straightening the apron’s white sash.
Marion turns and gives me an approving nod. “Convincing,” she says with a grin as she piles her napkin full of leftover sweets and shoves the swollen parcel into her pocket.
Together, we venture into the hallway behind Marion’s maid. Keeping our heads down and our eyes averted, we weave through the bustling corridors below the palace’s main floor. We hug the wall as attendants hurry past with trays of food, linens, and other necessities and make our way to a narrow, dimly lit staircase that leads to the attendants’ entrance.
The steps creak beneath us, and I tense with every groan of the old wood like I’m suddenly sixteen again, sneaking out of my house. The staircase opens onto a sunlit courtyard busy with deliveries and conversation.
Marion nudges me forward to follow as her maid falls into step with the others heading toward the gates at the front of the palace. There’s a lump in the back of my throat as we approach the guards standing watch, their spears resting at their sides.
We near the gate, and a guard’s neon-blue gaze lingers on us for a moment too long. Panic flares in my chest, and I feel Marion tense beside me as he steps forward, suspicion etched across his face, Four’s magick burning in his eyes.
He knows, Hannah. He’s going to catch you—find out you’re not a maid or Lady Ashwood. They’re going to chop off your head or throw you in a dungeon. Either way, you’re never getting back home.
Marion’s maid takes a ragged breath and presses her hand to her chest. She stumbles and falls directly in front of the approaching guard.
A nearby attendant cries out and rushes to the fainted woman. She presses her hand to her cheek, and Marion’s maid lets out a whimper of feigned distress.
“Call the apothecary!” the attendant shouts, cradling the maid’s head in her lap.
The guard hesitates, then rushes back to the servants’ entrance.
Marion mouths a silentthank youas we hurry to the gates.
Once we’re out of view of the guards, Marion tugs at my sleeve, and we drift away from the group, taking a sharp left down a quieter alley.
“I didn’t think we’d make it,” I whisper, my heart still racing from the close call.
“Best not to celebrate just yet.” She casts a quick glance over her shoulder to ensure we’re not being followed. “We haven’t yet entered the heart of the city. Brace yourself, Hannah. The Kingdom of Pentacles is a far cry from the shining gem I’m sure you’re used to in Cups.”
The sounds of the city grow louder around us as we step out into the crowded marketplace. Merchants call out, their voices shrill over the clamor of horses’ hooves on stone and the distant drone of street musicians. The air is thick with smoke, refuse, and the sharp tang of sweat. Marion pulls me through the throng, dodging vendors and weaving around shoppers as we make our way deeper into the city, where the streets narrow and twist into dark alleyways. The buildings here are older, their facades worn and crumbling, and the shouts and music of the market are replaced by muted voices and the shuffle of weary feet.
Marion stops at the mouth of an alley and turns to me. “Keep your eyes on the ground,” she whispers. “If we’re found out, we’ll have more than an angry mob to deal with.”
