Verette ducks her head. “While you still can. I don’t think it’s safe anymore, not with Father acting this way. I was supposed to become queen upon coming of age, except…”
“It’s happened four times now,” Eugene finishes. “And he’s still held on to the throne.”
“I was hoping—” Verette’s voice catches. “I thought maybe him inviting Princess Rapunzel meant it was real this time. But everything he’s doing points to something worse.”
Suddenly, all Rapunzel can hear is Enver, not even two hours ago, saying,Perhaps you’re not as ready for the crown as I thought.
How many times has he held that promise over her?
How long has she been trying to prove herself?
And that’s when Rapunzel realizes Verette doesn’t need a savvy aristocrat. She doesn’t need the magic of the sundrop.
What she needs is someone who knows how to leave the tower.
She reaches out and grabs Verette’s oar. Verette and Eugene both still.
Rapunzel says, “No. I’m staying.”
“You don’t owe us any help,” Verette insists.
“I made you a promise.” Rapunzel doesn’t let go. “Maybe your father doesn’t keep them. But I do.”
Verette looks to Eugene for backup. He just shrugs. “We’re a package deal. I go where she goes.”
“Minister Cressien.” Verette turns to him next. “Pleasemake them see reason.”
Cressien clears his throat and says queasily, “I do not command Her Highness. Yet even if I did…I would not advise a different course of action.”
Verette searches the three of them, scowling. Then she gives her oar a shake. “Fine. But we’ll bring you up to speed at the safe house. My father can’t hear what you need to know.”
Sixteen
Eugene
Eugene didn’t know it was possible to miss a place you’ve never been to, but somehow, he’s missed Merchant’s Crescent.
Or maybe he’s missed placeslikeit. The way the fog dulls the lanterns in the night. The tang of salt on the breeze, old seaweed, tar-laced dock timbers bristling with barnacles by the changing waterline. The grit of sand in the mud beneath his boots, and the way guards don’t even spare them a second glance, because for the first time since their arrival, brown hair on an adult doesn’t raise an eyebrow.
Eugene’s not completely sold on whatever Verette’s deal is just yet, but Rapunzel is all in, and that means he is too. Sowhen Verette leads them into a shipping clerk’s office, he’s not asking too many questions.
Amazingly, the clerk is still at the counter. Eugene spots little blue verette charms dangling from her earrings as she bows her head to Verette and says, “They’re upstairs.”
“Thank you,” Verette says softly.
A door off to the side leads to a narrow staircase, and every step squeals as they pass, so when they reach a wide space that looks to be a meeting room of sorts, the other occupants do not look remotely surprised to see them.
“Welcome to the safe house.” Councilor Teophine’s voice glides from a rickety chair to the right, where she’s sitting in her ball regalia with a steaming cup of tea, looking distinctly out of place amid the worn-down furnishings. There’s a broad table with a motley of chairs and stools angled around it, maps and charts on the faded brick walls, ramshackle shelves full of scrolls and logbooks. A round window at the far end of the room reveals the bay and main island. “Tea?”
“Please,”Cressien all but wheezes.
“Yes, of course. Please, make yourselves at home.” Verette hangs her mask on a wall hook and heads for a kettle on a squat iron stove. “I apologize for the secrecy, and how standoffish I’ve been, and how bizarre this all must be.”
“Not for kidnapping me?” Eugene grouses.
“No,” Verette says smoothly, “that was hilarious. Peppermint tea?”
“I saved you some of the little pickles from the refreshments,” Councilor Teophine calls from her chair.
