I take a deep breath, ready to unpack my situation and not really sure of exactly how I’m going to do so, when the door swings open. The young attendant steps in, carrying a tray laden with a delicate tea set, an array of cakes, and a selection of ripe fruits. The moment is lost, and I bite my tongue, frustration simmering beneath my composed exterior.
I lower myself onto the nearest settee and watch silently as the attendant arranges the tray on the low table in front of me with agonizing slowness, the clinking of porcelain punctuating the seconds ticking by.
I force a polite smile as the attendant finishes setting up the tea service. She curtsies before retreating to the door and leaving as silently as she came.
“If that will be all, my lady.” McDougall dips into a bow and makes a move to leave, his hand already reaching for the door. “I’ll excuse myself and alert Her Majesty to your presence.”
“Wait,” I call out, louder than I intended.
He pauses, his fingers on the door handle, and turns to face me. “Yes, my lady?”
“Please, stay,” I say softly, my heart hammering a staccato beat within my chest. I take a sharp inhale, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside me. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something important.”
McDougall steps closer and tilts his head. “And what is that, my lady?”
Suddenly wildly uncomfortable, I adjust in my seat and clasp my hands in my lap. “McDougall, I…” I falter, searching for the right words. “I owe you an apology. I was rude and dismissive of you when I was last here. You don’t deserve that, and I’m really sorry.”
He blinks and stands a little straighter. “Why, thank you, my lady, but I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
“We have,” I say. “I’m not who you think I am.”
“You are not the true Lady Ashwood?”
“I never was.” I remove my wig and let the blond strands tumble to the cushions before removing my contacts and hiding them with the linen napkin.
“My gods.” His eyes widen, a flicker of confusion crossing his features before recognition registers. “Hannah?” He squints, creeping forward as if I might attack.
“Yeah,” I whisper.
“You arrived with the warrior.”
“Yes,” I shoot to my feet and lunge to grab his arm, “but please don’t tell anyone.”
“I wouldn’t.” He shakes his head, his swirl of hair trembling. “I won’t.”
“You won’t?”
“I have known Kane since he was a boy. I watched him grow up alongside King Lockhart. I know who he is. I know he has only ever wanted what is best for Pentacles. But why have you returned? It is dangerous here for you, now more than ever.”
“I think I was called here.” I press my hand to my chest, to the card warm beneath my dress. “IknowI was called here. I’m the only person who can save him. And, not to sound white savior–ish or anything, but I’m also the one who can save your kingdom.”
I reach into the bodice of my dress and pull out the Empress. The card’s edges glow with golden sunlight, and an otherworldly breeze twirls through the grasses at her feet.
“It’s magick.” His gaze falls to the card, then back to me. “May I?”
McDougall motions to the card, and I let him have it. As soon as he touches it, a faint shimmer of energy ripples through the air. He stumbles backward, his hand reaching for purchase.
I grab his elbow and gently guide him to the settee.
“You do not live as long as I have without hearing a legend or two. However, this—” His voice is heavy with awe as he drags his fingers along the image of the Empress. “This is the stuff of dreams.”
“It’s real,” I say, my voice steady. “The Tower sent it to me, summoned me, and brought me here. It’s calling for me to act, but I need your help.”
“Of course.” He nods and hands me the card as if in a trance. “But first, there is one other we must inform. She will be positively thrilled to once again have you in her grasp.”
Thirty-One
I pace around the room, my steps no doubt creating trenches in the soft rug as I wait for whoever McDougall left to find. Each minute since I arrived back in Towerfall seems to take an eternity. I wring my hands and take deep breaths, trying to prepare myself.
