Yannec, who tried to kill me for a ruby, so he could buy enough poppy-dust to forget his own disappointment. I knew being my fence gave him profit and power, but that was not enough. In the end, I was still something to be used.
Yannec, whose body is now one more problem I need to solve. Along with the Eisendorf jewelry. And making it to a thousandgildenin the next two weeks. And breaking the curse before it kills me—or before I am killed for it.
The body problem, at least, I can solve.
“Ragne.” I push myself back to my feet, inch by weary inch. “Have you had dinner?”
CHAPTER SIX
TheGreatBreakfastAwakeningofJuniorPrefectEmericConrad
I forgot to lock the bedroom door. I find this out the hard way the next morning.
“I’m so sorry, Princess Gisele, but you have a visitor.”
I throw an arm over my face as one maid ties the curtains back to let in a cascade of light and another bustles in with a breakfast tray.
“What time is it?” I mumble, then roll onto my stomach. Gisele’s pearls click around my neck, for I sleep in them just in case of situations like this: unexpected intruders.
“Nearly nine in the morning,Prinzessin.”
“They can wait,” I groan into the pillow, then stuff down a startled curse as I abruptly find fur in my mouth. There’s a squeak. Ragne has burrowed between my pillow and the next one, a black mouse once again. I glare down at her.
Last night I set out a perfectly good chair for her to sleep on, in whatever form she thought best. By no means, I told her, was she allowed on the bed.
Half of my pillow is covered in black cat hair. Mypillow. You know, where I put myhuman person face.
“Begging your pardon, but he, er, says he made an appointment with you last evening.”
I squint at the maid as she finishes opening the curtains. Her name is Trudl, and she was the first to offer me her services as a lady’s maid. (Politely declined.) I’m positive she thinks Marthe is doing a terrible job.
“A young man?” Trudl shrugs apologetically as the other maid ducks out with a curtsy. “Emeric Conrad.”
“Who?” I croak.
She shrugs again. “He says he’s here to take a statement for the Godly Courts, but he looks awfully young for a prefect.”
I cannot smother a sigh of immense disgust. “Juniorprefect. Right. He must have left after I did.”
“No,Prinzessin. He says he left Eisendorf Manor this morning. He must have skipped breakfast to make it here so early.” Trudl helps me sit up. “Shall I fetch—oh.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, afraid she’s spotted Ragne in the pillows.
She shakes her head. Her gaze has sharpened slightly. “Nothing at all. I was just surprised by . . . well, it’s a lovely ruby,Prinzessin.”
Scheit.Maybe she’ll buy the excuse Yannec did not. I stumble to my feet. “I thought it would be nice for the wedding. Stays on with a special glue. It’s all the rage in Thírol right now.”
Trudl nods. I can guess what she thinks of my having a small fortune pasted to my face. “Very well. Shall I fetch Marthe to help you dress?”
“No,” I say quickly, bracing myself on the bedpost. “I told her to wake me at nine, so she’ll be along shortly.”
Last night . . . well, it didn’t end like I’d hoped, in about five hundred different ways, and I am in no shape to run around pretending to be two people at once. My reflection in the vanity says that’s a wise choice: Even with the magic of the pearls, Gisele looks a mess, platinum curls as bed-rumpled as the nightgown. Granted, the pearls make it all look deliberate, but . . .
That gives me an idea.
“Send the prefect up to my personal parlor,” I say, “and get him breakfast, same as what I’m having. Take my tray there too.” Then I scan my breakfast. It’s missing the final touch. “And one more thing . . .”
Two minutes later, I stroll into my guest parlor only marginally more put together than when I woke up. I’ve donned slippers and pulled my hair back into a positively devilish tail dripping down one shoulder, but all I’m wearing is a rich scarlet brocade dressing gown bundled over the nightgown. It’s heavy enough that I’m not worried about letting anything slip.
