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“I’ll explain. I need your help,” I said, “and so does Lachlan.”
She set her intense brown eyes on mine. “Lachlan?”
I nodded.
She flashed a smile that was only dimmed by the plaque on her teeth. She was going to need a lot of work to pass as a royal servant.
“We have a lot to talk about. But let’s get you some food and a bath first.”
* * *
Just before curfew,Cait and I arrived at the gates to my house. She wore a clean black maid’s dress and no longer smelled like death, but my heart pounded anyway. Cait glanced at me nervously before taking her rank card from her pocket. She brushed her hair back, the red curls now free of grease and dirt, and presented it to the guards with shaking hands.
“This is my new maid,” I told the men. “It’s time I live as a queen should.”
“Indeed, Imperatrix,” said one guard, before bowing and swinging open the iron gates.
“I will also be hiring more guards soon,” I said. “My assassination attempt has had me up at night with dread and I fear there will be another.”
“To your health,” one guard said.
“Thank you.”
The men bowed again as we passed and continued toward my house.
“This is crazy,” Cait whispered.
“I know.” The weight of the full jar in my pearl clutch wouldn’t let me forget it. “I hope you’re crazy enough for it.”
She laughed. “I impersonated a man and cheated on a ranking test, remember?”
“True.” That’s how I knew I could count on her.
We went in the doors quietly, but my father didn’t seem to be around. He was probably celebrating at the Ruskins’ mansion. The coronation was as big of a deal for Cael’s family as it was for mine, and my father treated Cael like a son these days. Sometimes it seemed as if he liked him more than me.
Cait and I hurried through the hall, our footsteps echoing off the marble floor and bare walls. My body felt weak and my wound throbbed, but I couldn’t rest. I had even more to do the next day.
Not to mention a funeral and coronation to attend.
* * *
Before the sunrose the next morning, I went down the cool stone hall of the cellars, barefoot and still in my nightclothes.
I shielded the candle’s flame in my hand as I passed the servant’s room where Cait slept. I hadn’t wanted her to be alone down here, but I didn’t want my father to think she was anything other than an ordinary servant.
My father. Every time I thought of him, my stomach tightened.
The candlelight flickered against a wooden door at the end of the hall. I lifted a key to the lock and slipped into the windowless cellar.
Except we didn’t use it as a cellar.
On the far wall was a wooden target. There were plenty of weapons stored in this room, but knives were what I’d grown to appreciate most in the time I’d spent down here. I picked up six of them, their steel handles and blades identical to the ones I’d lost.
I searched for one more weapon. When my hand touched the cold barrel, I shuddered, my side aching as I felt the pain of the bullet. I could never use it on anyone, but I needed it for my plans.
I left the grim room and locked the door before hurrying away.
The stairs creaked as I crept back to my bedroom. The first morning light peeked through the gaps between the heavy curtains, the rays landing on a scene of destruction. The sheets were ripped, a chair overturned, and goose down covered the floor.
