Page 68 of The Hood and his Thief

“Ah, so not a princess. Just a wanted criminal.” Rhosyn grimaced, any illusions of domesticity in Ansel’s breakfast delivery thoroughly shattered.

“Speaking of, we need to discuss why you’re a wanted criminal. I’m assuming you didn’t actually try to shoot the king?”

Rhosyn shook her head, mouth already full of bacon and a hefty slice of toast.

“Then, what actually did happen?”

“I was following one of Mr. Gower’s men who was acting strange.” Rhosyn explained the odd argument she witnessed in the garden, and how she had jumped in to thwart the assassination. She furrowed her brow when she began to recount how she had been the one left at the scene of the crime with a weapon. “It was so strange, though. Like he didn’t even remember how he had gotten there.”

Ansel’s face grew pale. “So, Mr. Gower wants to use the Talented he’s sponsored to get rid of the King.”

Rhosyn grimaced even as she nodded in agreement. The cadre of Talented with violent abilities, combined with the assassination attempt at the party, painted a clear picture of what Mr. Gower wanted. “It’s bold, considering that King Byron is wildly popular among the Talented after ending the Inquiries. It would be hard to convince them to take violent action against him.”

Ansel’s mouth formed a hard line, the look in his eyes causing the breakfast in Rhosyn’s stomach to turn leaden.

“I had Little John look through the sponsorship papers we stole from the palace, and Rhosyn…one of the Talented he sponsored almost two years ago had powers of extreme persuasion, even to the point of being able to control somebody’s actions.”

Bile rose in Rhosyn’s throat. “The groom.”

Ansel nodded grimly. “His name is Hamish. It would explain what we overheard that night in the stables. Why they thought Olivia and Paul might come back of their own accord.”

“And why they hardly seem to remember their time there. When the groom persuades them, it seems to put them nearly in a trance to force them to obey.” Rhosyn’s throat burned, and she put aside the plate of breakfast, food suddenly unappealing. All those Talented thinking they were getting a chance at a better life, only to be turned into thralls and set to a violent purpose.

“If Mr. Gower was willing to go to such lengths to oust the King, he won’t give up after one failed attempt,” Ansel pointed out. “He needs to be stopped. If a Talented assassinates another king, and one who was their best hope of equality, it would start the Inquiries all over again. Fear of the Talented hasn’t abated, especially among the rich and powerful, and this would stir things up again.”

Ansel’s words picked up in pace as he spoke, signaling to Rhosyn that under the surface of his analytical approach stirred the beginnings of panic. It was panic she recognized all too well in the young Lions who started to show Talents, afraid that it would end with them at the end of a noose. A fear that she had felt responsible for protecting them from, as she had been lucky enough to have no Talent to hide.

“Mr. Gower will be stopped,” Rhosyn promised. “But we can’t do it just the two of us.”

Ansel grimaced. “Do we have a choice? With you neatly framed for the attempt, I don’t think many people would believe us.”

She cracked her knuckles one by one as she thought. “I didn’t escape the estate without a little bit of help. I know somebody who would give us the benefit of the doubt.”

Rhosyn had never wished more that Nate had not bricked up the secret passage into his office. The darkness was thick tonight, wind blowing the smog from the factories back into the upper city so that it blocked out the light of the stars. Still, Rhosyn wished for Scarlett’s powers to thicken the shadows even further as she and Ansel crept over rooftops.

Ansel had donned the outfit of the Hood, face and hair covered, with a wrist bow strapped to his forearm. Rhosyn hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.

He had leant her a spare hood too, and together they stole like shadows up through the middle city. Below them on the streets, Royal Police prowled between pools of flickering lamplight, out in force after Rhosyn’s perceived betrayal.

She paused on the edge of one roof, waiting for a pair of officers to pass by on the street below, before jumping the gap to the next building, Rhosyn tried not to wonder if she knew the officers—if she had worked with them before, and what they might be saying about her now. Ansel’s shoulder brushed hers as he crouched beside her, and the warmth of his touch dulled the chill of those thoughts.

It took the pair longer than it might have to make their way to the upper city, as careful as they were to not be spotted. Once they reached the affluent neighborhoods where the manors were too far apart to travel directly from roof to roof, they picked their way between shadowy hedges in back gardens, heading for a familiar house.

Rhosyn dropped to her belly next to a familiar hedge and dragged herself by her elbows through a narrow gap below the thick shrubbery that served as a natural wall. She cursed quietly as brambles snagged on her hood, nearly ripping it free.

When she emerged from the leaves, the familiar sound of tinkling water in a fountain drifted through the air. She pushed to her feet, waiting for Ansel to follow. However, no rustling signaled that he was following her through the shrub. She frowned with concern, only to start when a dark shadow flew overhead.

Ansel landed neatly before her on the balls of his feet, as if he hadn’t just flipped easily over a hedge that stood as high as she did.

“Showoff,” she muttered under her breath as she turned towards the house. As always, the back garden was a veritable Eden, flowers all at full bloom, dripping with the verdant life that Gregor coaxed from them so lovingly.

Rhosyn hadn’t been here in too long, but she didn’t have time to admire the roses.

As she had known they would be, the back door on the ground floor was locked. She didn’t want to draw attention by knocking, in case they had company over, so they would have to climb. Rhosyn gestured to a window on the second floor, indicating to Ansel that it would be their point of entrance.

As picky as Nate was about security, he had a habit of leaving the entrance to the rose room unlocked so Scarlett could come and go as she pleased, without the apparent indignity of using the front door. Ansel started up the wall first, the agility from his Talent offering him incredible speed. Rhosyn’s toes had barely left the ground by the time he pushed at the glass, swinging it open easily as she had hoped.

Rhosyn continued climbing as Ansel disappeared inside the house. Just as her fingertips reached the sill, a crash and a shout echoed from inside. Lightning shot up Rhosyn’s spine and she flung herself over the ledge, tumbling into the bedroom.