Page 34 of A Treason of Thorns

“Things are different here, though,” I say. “Everywhere else Houses were bound one at a time, usually a century or more apart.”

“Exactly,” Espie says, slicing one of her leftover berries in half with a scowl. “Nowhere’s quite like England, where six Houses were bound in the span of a single year thanks to my ancestor William the Deedwinner. Five of those Houses still remain and are heading for failure due to their bindings, but Burleigh’s going fastest. It’s by far the oldest of the five, and the House arrest did so much additional damage, Burleigh must be dealt with first.”

I press my lips together and hold my tongue. I’m inclined to believe these two, but that doesn’t mean I’ve set aside all my suspicion. Let them share what they know and what they’re planning—I’ll keep my own scheming to myself.

“It would mean disaster on a national scale,” Alfred says quietly. “Yorkshire’s still a wasteland after an attempt to free Ripley Castle went badly and the House failed. Imagine that happening across the country. At this point, it’s a matter of either freeing the Houses, or burning each of them and their mortar as they begin to fail. Espie’s father favors the latter plan because it’s less of a risk to the countryside, and means he can keep hold of the remaining Houses till the bitter end. He doesn’t want to give up the control they allow him, you see.”

There’s a window nearby, in front of which a rhododendron blooms. Its crepe-like petals are luminous and unblighted, and all of this seems like a dark story meant to frighten wayward children.

“Don’t fret about England,” Esperanza says at last. “That isn’t why we came to you, Vi. The thing is, I’ve got contacts and spies and money, and I’m optimistic we’ll find the deeds, but...”

“But what?”

Esperanza looks down at her hands. “We want your help with unbinding Burleigh, obviously. No one knows the House better than you. But Burleigh’s bound to destroy anyone who tries to set it free. All the Great Houses are. My forebearers were nothing if not very thorough in ensuring their power was protected. You remember what happened to Marianne Ingilby when she tried to free the Sixth House. And then there’s the matter of getting to the heart of the House if you do find the deed. You know the old rhyme—blood for an ending, mortar for a start, unmake a binding at your House’s heart. According to Alfred, only a Caretaker can find a House’s heart. Burleigh doesn’t have a Caretaker, though.”

“Burleigh has me,” I answer staunchly. “I’m its Caretaker. It doesn’t want anyone else. And if Burleigh will let anybody into its secret heart, it’ll be me. So if you want the House unbound, I’m the one to do it.”

“Are you sure?” Esperanza asks. “It’s very dangerous, Vi.”

“Of course I’m sure,” I say without a moment’s hesitation. “But why areyoudoing this? The Houses are your birthright, and your future power. Why would you want to give that up?”

The princess’s dark eyes soften. “I spent half of my childhood at Hampton Court, the royal family’s Great House. You know whatthey’re like, Vi—I loved that place with everything in me. But the king, my father—he would use the magic to keep the House in check. Would let its magic build, and build, until Hampton was beside itself, and only then would he do his duty as Caretaker. He said”—her mouth twists—“that it was important for the Houses to know we rule them, and not the other way around.”

“Sounds like Uncle Edgar,” I mutter.

Esperanza shakes her head, curling a stray lock of hair around one finger absently. “My father likes to hold both the deeds and the crown over my head, saying he’ll disinherit me if I don’t do what he wishes. As for my birthright, I spent eight years in a Great House, and every day and every night I felt its sadness through the floors and the walls, until I could not find a way to be glad.”

I know the feeling. It is all too familiar, that burden of knowing your House is unhappy.

“I’m afraid, too,” Esperanza admits. “There have been monarchs before, who intended to unbind the Houses. After taking the throne, they never made good on their promises. Power is a seductive thing, Violet.”

“My father always said people don’t give it up lightly,” I reply.

Esperanza leans forward, and there’s sincerity in her dark eyes and small, round face. “That’s my fear. That while I feel for the Great Houses now, if once they were bound to me, I might refuse to give them up. So I want to see this done before I take the throne. And it starts with Burleigh, because Burleigh is running out of time. What do you say, then, Violet Sterling? Shall we join forces? Will you help us in this, or let us help you?”

Mira would be livid if she saw me gnawing indecisively at afingernail in front of the princess of Wales. Perhaps I’m signing my death warrant by trusting Espie. But after all of Jed and Mira and Wyn’s reluctance to see me seek out the deed, it’s heartening to find someone who will give me her absolute support.

“I don’t know... ,” I say, because while I have every intention of unbinding Burleigh, I’m still not sure of this princess.

“Espie,” Alfred says quietly. “Tell her about your mother.”

The corners of Esperanza’s mouth turn in, and all the light leaves her eyes. “I don’t like to talk about Mama, you know that, Alfred.”

“I do. But you’re sitting next to the one person in England who’ll understand about her. Who knows what you’re living with.”

Esperanza turns to me, and her face is drawn and unhappy. “The thing is, do you know why my father, the king, sent my mother back to Spain, Vi?”

I frown. “I thought they didn’t get on. It was a political match, and didn’t go well, so she went home.”

The princess shakes her head. “No. Papa sent my mother away because... she’s dying. She couldn’t bear to watch Hampton Court suffer, and since my father held the key and would not do his duty as a Caretaker, she began to do it for him. Or rather, she did it for the House. Mama worked House magic ten, perhaps twelve times. She would have worked more if my father hadn’t sent her away. But she’s been sickening ever since she left England, day by day, year by year. It is slow and ugly and painful. I’m so afraid to open every letter that comes from Spain, because I know it might bring the news that she’s finally gone.”

Esperanza falls silent. She takes the handkerchief Alfred offers her, but there are no tears swimming in her dark eyes.

I know why. You can’t cry when you’re waiting, when you’re caught moving inevitably toward heartbreak. You can only watch it grow closer and steel yourself against the pain to come.

“How did you bear it?” Esperanza asks finally, and her voice is little more than a whisper. “How did you manage, Violet, while you were on the fens? Because sometimes I feel as if everything’s frozen around me, and other times as if each day’s gone in the blink of an eye.”

I reach across the table on an impulse and take the princess’s hand.