Page 35 of A Treason of Thorns

“I got by the same way I’m sure you’re doing,” I tell her. “I woke up each morning and just kept going. I found something to do. I knew it was what Papa would have wanted, more than anything else. For me to carry on. He never gave up, you see, not until the bitter end.”

Esperanza nods. I squeeze her hand, and decide to take a leap of faith.

“We’re in this together, then?” I ask.

The princess shuts her eyes for a moment. When she opens them, any trace of grief and fear has been carefully tucked away, replaced by a fierce determination. “We are indeed. Let’s finish your father’s treason. Confound the king. Unbind Burleigh House.”

12

TWO IN THE MORNING HAS COME AND GONE BY THE TIMEI make it home from my first shift at the Shilling. Wyn’s asleep in the hall outside my bedroom, and there’s a faint smell of sawdust and plaster as I slip past him. I bite back a smile. It’s equal parts irritating and endearing that he’s so convinced I need looking after. He turns over without waking, and I remember that about him—he’s always been a restless sleeper.

Shutting myself up in my bedroom, I sink wearily into a chair next to the cold and empty hearth. A few sparks play among the waiting firewood and I shake my head.

“Don’t, Burleigh. Save your strength—I want to talk to you.”

A handful of white petals fall from the air and settle softly on my lap. I gather them up and hold them to my face, breathing in their honey-sweet fragrance.

“I met someone in town today,” I tell the House. “The king’s daughter. Have the two of you ever met before?”

A breeze rattles at the windows.

“Can you show me?”

This time, I’m prepared for the sudden darkness Burleigh draws around me like a curtain. When it fades, a watery version of the front entry has been superimposed over my bedroom.

Esperanza stands near the front door. There are brambles everywhere and mortar weeps from the window frames and the doorposts. I’ve never seen the House so—even in memory, a wave of its wild grief hits me.

“Oh, Burleigh,” Esperanza says quietly. “I’m so sorry. You poor thing.”

“Who are you?” Wyn’s voice says from behind me, and he sounds as if Burleigh’s agonized thorns and mortar run beneath his skin. I turn, and there he is, just coming down the last stair from the second floor. There’s an ill look about him—he’s winter-pale, and shadows like bruises spread below his eyes.

“I’m the princess of Wales,” she says. “Esperanza will do. And you must be Wyn.”

He scowls at her. “Did you come to gloat over your father’s handiwork?”

“No,” Esperanza answers, her voice still low, as if she’s speaking to some frightened, feral creature. And truly, Wyn seems ready to bolt or lash out at any moment. He’s filthy and ragged, fists clenched at his sides, something dark and broken in his eyes. My heart aches fiercely at the sight, and I press a hand to my chest.

“I’m here to look after George’s remains, if they haven’t been seen to yet,” Esperanza continues. “I’ve brought gravediggers, and a coffin. I know no one likes to think about that side of things, but it has to be done.”

For a moment, I think Wyn will snap at her, and refuse the offer of help. But then his shoulders slump.

“I just left him, and shut the door,” he admits. “I couldn’t...”

Esperanza steps forward and rests a gloved hand on Wyn’s arm. “No one expected you to. That’s why I’ve come.”

A booted step rings in the hall, and a gentleman appears from the maze of Burleigh’s corridors. He’s dressed in riding clothes, his profile severe, and he looks old enough to be my father.

“Esperanza,” the gentleman says sharply. “Who is this mongrel?”

She flinches at the man’s words, but Wyn stays motionless.

“This is Haelwyn of Taunton, Lord Falmouth,” Esperanza answers. “The boy who stayed behind with George Sterling. We’re just making funeral arrangements.”

Falmouth’s mouth draws down into a frown. “You mean the body hasn’t been dealt with yet? They’re practically barbarians, these West Country rustics. Don’t spend too long on it, Esperanza—I’ll expect you for dinner at the Green Lion in Taunton.”

He steps outside and shuts the front door behind him, still grumbling under his breath as he goes. Esperanza turns back to Wyn.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll have my men come in and sort things out.” It’s not so much a statement as a question, and Wyn nods. He’s about to head up the stairs once more when Espie stops him.