I use some of Emeric’s money to buy a mug of steamingglohweinwhile I wait for proper night to settle in, trying to puzzle out what I’ve learned about the curse, prodding at that riddle of a lock with pick after pick and trying to nudge the tumblers into place. Ragne chases other starlings around the Göttermarkt until the temple bells start bellowing for evening services.
By then it’s dark enough for me to be on my way. Ragne perches on my shoulder as I climb the stairs onto the Hoenstratz viaduct, cross the High Bridge to the foot of Castle Reigenbach, then hop the wall and slip into the roadside bushes when the guards aren’t looking.
There’s another footpath here leading up to the castle proper, behind the barracks and storehouses. Trudl told me about it with a bawdy wink (well, she told Marthe, before she decided Marthe was lazy), calling it the Lovers’ Road. I found out exactly what she meant when the spring turned warm enough for couples to sneak off at night, and suddenly every private hedge with a view of the Yssar waterfall was . . . occupied. Loudly.
This night is too cold for lovers, though, so I’m the only one making my way up the winding dirt track. Finally it levels out upriver from the waterfall. The path curves around the corner of the icehouse, but I split off there, pressing close to the limestone wall of the castle itself.
Castle Reigenbach is built so close to the river, there’s but a thin strip of land to scoot along between the wall and the cold waters of the Yssar, so meager the guards don’t bother patrolling it. When I first arrived, they had stationed Gisele in the guest wing, too close to Adalbrecht’s chambers for my comfort, and too far from any escape routes. Within the week, I had them move me to the riverfront wing, into a room with a veranda framed by sturdy rose trellises, and gave myself another way out.
Or in. After a few minutes of creeping along the narrow bank, I reach the trellises and shake out my hands. I’ve kept them in tight fists to try to stay warm, and they’re still limber despite the chill. I find my handholds in the wooden brackets and begin to climb.
Sometimes I wonder, in moments like this.
I don’t remember my siblings all that well; twelve is too many for a four-year-old to keep track of. I know they were rowdy and quiet and sweet and bold, and some of them looked like my father, a smith, and some of them looked like my mother, a weaver.
I wonder . . . I wonder what they would think of me. Would my sisters like that I climb trellises, sneak in and out of castles, wear gowns of the finest silks? Would my brothers like that I can steal the signet ring off the Golden Wolf himself, and lie as easy as breathing?
Would my mother still believe I’m bad luck?
I wonder if I would have been the same person sleeping in a crowded, smelly hut as I was sleeping with the rats in the pantry.
Ragne pokes me in the ear. “I’m going to go get dinner,” she announces, and a moment later a bat flaps away, up into the air.
“I thought you were vegetarian,” I grumble. Maybe insects don’t count. I don’t know that I want to ask.
I reach the veranda and hoist myself over the balustrade. Firelight glows through the curtained panes of the door, a reminder that a little kindness to akoboldgoes a long way. I’m more than ready to scrounge up some dinner of my own and doze off in a toasty room.
I let myself in and reach for the lamp next to the vanity—
—and something cold clamps around my other wrist.
My free hand closes over the first thing in reach on the vanity, but then it too is yanked behind my back. There’s a metallicclank. When I
try to jerk free, I meet unforgiving iron shackles.
My captor’s still at my back. “I’ll scream for the guards,” I hiss. “I—”
The veranda door clicks shut behind me. “No, I don’t think you will.”
This time I recognize the voice.
Junior Prefect Emeric Conrad steps in front of me, little more than a silhouette against the hearth, firelight catching along the round lenses of his spectacles.
Coal dust whirls around us. My luck has once again turned for the worse.
“If you called for the guards,” he says mildly, “you’d have to explain to them whyyou’rehere, carrying Gisele von Falbirg’s pearls, and why Gisele von Falbirg is not.”
Then he picks a book up off the vanity chair and motions for me to sit. “Now then, if you please,Prinzessin. I have a few more questions for you.”
CHAPTER TEN
DeadtoRights
I try not to gape as Emeric walks to the fireplace, where his too-big uniform coat has been neatly folded over a chair, and sets down the book in his hands.
No, it’s not just any book; he has Yannec’s ledger. The one that I need to find his buyer.
That means Emeric’s found the secret cupboard in my vanity. Which is also where I’ve hidden my store ofgildenand the Eisendorf jewels. Sure enough, they’re in an orderly stack beside the vanity chair.
