The Firethorn Crown (14 page)

The rest of the girls entered the room, followed by maids carrying supper trays, and the paintings were forgotten for the moment. Ivy cradled a kitten to her cheek to hide her tears.

“I should go.” Orin cupped Lily’s elbow lightly. The skin barely stung anymore. “I’ll do what I can to help, but I’m not sure what’s going on. Send word to the The Tree if you need me.”

Lily touched his shoulder in gratitude. No one noticed him leave in all the disarray. Well, mostly no one. Melantha saluted him casually, and he returned the gesture before shutting the door.

Eben bent down until his breath tickled her ear. “I’m off duty soon. I’ll try to find out what I can about the northern princess.”

He straightened, and she clutched his arm, willing him to figure something out. Anything.

He squeezed her hand. “I know something’s not right, but I’m not sure how everything’s fitting together.” He paused. The maids left, and the room started to settle. “Is there anything you can tell me?”

She didn’t want to shake her head again.

“Never mind.” He hesitated, and she recognized the look on his face as he struggled to find words to say something awkward. “This isn’t about, I mean, you’re not . . .” He took deep breath and rushed on. “Runson’s not blackmailing you, is he?”

What?

“No, okay.” He recognized her look, too. “Okay. I’ll do what I can.” He patted her hand where it still rested on his arm and then walked out, deep in thought.

So close. They were so close to figuring something out. At least Eben suspected something. She hoped his next guess would hit closer to the mark.

Chapter Fourteen

L
ily had three days to break her curse.

Failure all but ensured her betrothal to Runson, and she and her sisters would still be trapped.

Gwen suggested they leave early for the undergarden. The littles needed rest, and the older girls had The Masked Ball to attend tomorrow night. No one argued.

“I don’t get it,” Wren said, picking at her sandwich. “Why don’t we just let Mother announce the betrothal now and let him break the . . . you know. We don’t need to keep doing this when there’s a prince waiting for her.”

Wren thought she had a prince? Which one—Orin or Holic? Certainly not Prince Gower.

“That’s not how it works,” Mara said.

“How do you know?”

“There’s a reason Lily hasn’t spoken to the princes, yet. It’s not as easy as ‘I love you,’ and ‘I love you back.’”

“Why not?”

“They have to actually love her back, sweetie,” Mara said.

“Oh.” Wren thought about that for a moment. Her face scrunched up. “Oh, well that’s not fair!How are we gonna get out of this? There has to be someone else. Lily, there’s someone else, right?”

There
was
someone else, someone who might actually love her back. Maybe. Only she couldn’t be sure he would say so.

“Right?” Wren gripped the arms of her chair. Crescents of color lingered under her nails. She was usually meticulous about that.

Gwen took Wren’s hands and spoke in a soothing tone. “It’s her choice whether to speak or not. She’s strong. We have to let her take as much time as she needs.”

Lily dabbed her eyes with a napkin. She didn’t feel strong. She felt helpless and stupid for getting them into this because she didn’t want to face her responsibilities, including Runson. It wasn’t Father’s job to make him go away.

Sooner than she liked, Lily slid her tattered slippers onto her feet, grateful for Junia’s creams. She watched the guards from the spy hole as the girls arranged themselves behind her.

Something was wrong. With a jolt, she realized Eben had stationed a third guard on their door. She waited for them to turn their backs as before, but one guard or another always faced her.

“What’s wrong?” Melantha asked.

Lily held up three fingers, one at a time.

“How are we going to get past three guards?” Coral said.

After about ten minutes, Lily saw the pattern in the guard’s patrol, and not once did they leave the door unobserved for more than a few seconds. What would happen if she didn’t make it to the undergarden tonight? The girls fidgeted. They couldn’t climb out the narrow windows. The roof was an option, but twelve princesses scaling the side of a tower would be quite a spectacle if they lost contact with each other. The darkness could only hide them for so long.

No, it was the door, or nothing.

They weren’t forbidden to leave their tower at night, but it would draw too much attention.

“We’ve got to do
something
,” Melantha whispered forcefully, as if in answer to someone.

Lily had missed part of the conversation. Or argument.

“Splitting up isn’t the answer,” Gwen said. She spoke softly, even though the door was thick.

“Put the basket of kittens into the hallway,” Azure said.

Ivy gasped.

Azure nudged Lily out of the way and stood on her toes to peer out the spy hole.

“I’ll put a note on the basket to return the kittens to the stables. Sign my name.” Azure moved back. “Kev knows me. He won’t be surprised. And chasing the kittens will get them from the door. Hopefully.”

No one else came up with a better plan, so Azure wrote her note. All but two of the kittens slept in their basket. Melantha scooped up the strays and plopped them on top of the others.

“Be careful!” Neylan said.

“We want them awake and running around, don’t we?” Melantha said.

Lily shooed everyone back into place. Speed was key, or the guards would get suspicious. They didn’t need someone knocking on the door and finding the tower empty. This had better work.

Azure crouched by the door with the mewing kittens.

Lily peeked out the spy hole, her heart pounding. She had to time this just right. The minutes passed slowly. So slowly. As soon as all of the guards faced away from the door, she opened it. Azure pushed the basket out and retreated quickly to her place in line. One of the kittens tipped over the edge and rolled back into the room. Lily scooped it up before the door squashed it.

She couldn’t see the basket from the spy hole. The nearest guard read the note. He called the other two over, and they all laughed good-naturedly before he went down the hall to call for a maid.

It wasn’t working—the kittens were too sleepy. They must have settled back into the basket.Her kitten struggled and scratched her arms with its tiny claws.

Sorry, little guy
. She waited until the guards turned their backs again, inched the door open, and gently tossed the unhappy kitten into the basket of sleeping fuzzballs. They didn’t like that. Good.

The nearest guard spun towards the scrabbling kittens and didn’t notice the slightly-open door, or that one more kitten darted about. Their big hands scooped them up too quickly, though. Except for Lily’s kitten. He’d made a run for it, no happier with the guards than he’d been with her.

The guards hesitated, allowing the kitten to put more distance between them.

Run, kitten, run!

A guard lunged after it, allowing the others a chance to escape. Here was the chaos Lily needed. She grabbed Melantha and yanked the girls out the door. Thankfully, they were used to their invisibility enough that they didn’t trip over each other.

“Oh!”

A kitten righted itself near the wall. One of the girls at the end must have bumped into it. Lily would make it up to the poor things tomorrow. Saucers of milk for all of them.

She slowed at the top of the stairs, and her breathing returned to normal as they descended. Even keeping to the less-frequented areas, the candlelit halls presented obstacles. At the last corner, just before the doors to the garden, she stopped short. Runson was in the way. She pressed her back into the wall and gripped the corner until the stone bit into her palm. He was in her way a lot, lately.

He paced slowly back and forth in front of the glass doors. The gardens beyond lay in darkness—the gardeners never bothered to light many lamps in this section—but if anyone were out there, they would see him clearly. He glanced around, as if to be sure he wasn’t being watched, and then pressed his nose to the glass. What was he looking for? Or who?

She could lead the girls to another door, but they risked running into more people. Literally. She would wait him out. They’d left early enough.

Melantha stepped close, her cheek brushing Lily’s as she peeked around the corner. “Get out of here, you little weasel,” she muttered.

Runson turned, looking right at the spot where Lily stood. She stared right back at him and had an odd impulse to stick out her tongue. He turned away after a moment, and she elbowed Melantha back.

As it had in their room, time passed too slowly. Two minutes ticked by, maybe three. Runson stopped pacing and crouched on the floor facing them, his hands held out in front of him.

“Here, kitty. Come here, little one.”

Lily’s head whipped around. Her kitten had followed them.

A guard would be close behind.

Oblivious to their danger, Runson baby-talked the kitten over to him. He scooped it up and stood. “What are you doing here, little wanderer?” The kitten melted in his hands as he scratched its chin and ears. “You’re coming home with me.” He nuzzled the kitten with his nose.

It was too adorable. She pushed aside thoughts of Runson’s soft side, knowing from experience that he buried it deep.

Footsteps sounded in the hall behind them. The guard would be here any second.

Runson cradled the kitten to his chest. After glancing around once more and peering through the glass, he straightened and exited into the gardens.

Lily had no time to sort through her confusion about Runson’s behavior. She looked outside. No sign of him, and she didn’t know which direction he’d gone. She led the girls into the gardens, listening carefully. Nothing. Just normal cricket noises, and laughter from a distant balcony.

Step after step, feet stinging in protest at cracks in the stones, unseen twigs, and stray pebbles, she led the girls to the maze. She didn’t dare let go of Melantha until they entered the secret passageway. Runson had entered the maze before, and she wasn’t ruling out his presence now.

No one asked for the candle, not even Junia.

The silver light guided them in the tunnel as it had the first time, and the darkness shivered and closed in around them. Lily didn’t bother counting. When they reached the forest, she gulped the damp cavern air to clear her head.

Around the corner and beyond the mist, Tharius waited. He looked almost boyish in a black shirt embroidered with silver-green thread around the cuffs, his hair tousled as if he’d run to meet her. She joined him right away, not wishing to irritate him tonight. He smiled, satisfied, and whisked her along the path.

As before, he led her onto the dance floor without delay, eyes shining like the forest of glass. “I missed you.”

His voice resonated against her ribcage, and she stifled a gasp. Her gown had no corset. Red satin bled into black from her neck to her hips, where layers of ruffles cascaded to the floor. The sleeves ended in points over the backs of her hands, and thousands of diamond chips dusted the entire thing like crushed glass. She was completely covered, but she’d never felt so bare.

His hand rested low on her back, his grin wide. “You smell like sunshine.” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

The silence and the music carried them through the dance. The girls joined them, all except Ivy, who still refused to step out of the shadows. Hazel and Neylan were not in the clearing; hopefully, they could find Bay without arousing suspicion. Lily would dance more holes in her slippers to keep Tharius occupied.

She needed to find out where his mother was from, anyway. It might help in her search for the sorcerer. “Your Highness—”

“Call me Tharius, Lily.”

“With respect, Your Highness, I won’t do that. And I haven’t given you leave to use my name so familiarly.” Although he’d done it before, and she’d said nothing.

“But we’re betrothed, my dear.” Tharius pulled her closer, if that were possible. “Who else has more right to address you so intimately.”

She didn’t like how he said “intimately,” as if he knew things about her already. She strained against him, knowing she wouldn’t win in a battle of physical strength.

He laughed and spun her around, closing the remaining inches between them. He might be pale, but warm blood flowed through his veins. Her face flamed. He needed a tunic over his shirt.

Clenching her jaw, she turned her head away. He needed a willing partner to break his curse, so she didn’t fear excessive force on his part, but she cringed at his nearness.

“Let me hear you say my name,” he said. “Have I not been patient? Have I not given you what freedom I could, waiting for you to come to me?” His voice rose, and his fingers dug into her hip. He barely missed a collision with Junia and her partner. “I ask so little. Can you not give me what I want?”

He wasn’t making any sense. He’d asked her for everything, taken her freedom. But she didn’t want to anger him, a sorcerer with unknown power and strength, especially with her sisters in his domain. She didn’t want him guessing how much they had accomplished trying to get around the limitations of her curse. She could bend a little to appease him, buy more time.

“Fine. Prince Tharius.”

“
Tharius
,” he growled, emphasizing his name with a shake and a spin that jarred her neck.

“Tharius,” she squeaked.

He smiled and increased the tempo as he eased his grip on her. The music, as always, kept time with his dancing, his moods, when he was on the floor. The song ended, and he let her go to her sisters, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Hazel stood with her arms around Ivy. “I don’t think he’s stable.”

“Would you be, if this was your home?” She wasn’t defending him, but he’d made choices out of desperation. She couldn’t say what she would have done in his place, but he shouldn’t have lied to them.

“I hope I won’t find out,” Hazel said.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t,” Ivy whispered and hugged Lily tightly. “You didn’t know.”

“But
you
did, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You tried.”

Ivy shrugged. “We just have to move forward.”

Lily hugged the two of them.

Hazel groaned. “It’s the wheezer, again. He’s fascinated with my hair.”

The gentleman Lily had danced with before limped towards them, his gaze locked on Hazel, who was noticeably taller than him.

“You do have nice hair,” Lily said.

“This one in particular keeps comparing me to The Golden Makar during his youth.”

“I never thought you looked particularly manly,” Lily said.

“Do you want to dance with him?”

“I wouldn’t want to deprive him. They do seem fond of shiny things here.”

“You’re shiny enough for all of us,” Hazel said.

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” Lily swished her skirts, speckling the girls with reflected light. The gentleman blinked, dazzled either from the diamond-crusted gown or Hazel’s hair. Or both. He bowed, and Hazel joined him dutifully.

After escorting Coral over, Tharius claimed Lily for the next dance. And the next. She finally insisted that the younger girls needed sleep, or they would be too tired tomorrow, and people would get even more suspicious.

As the girls passed through the archway, Tharius rested his arm around Lily’s waist. Ruby and Wren went last, leaning on each other for support.

“Take me with you,” he whispered into her ear, sending tingles down her spine.

“I can’t.”

His jaw clenched, and he pulled away.

Bay was still in there somewhere. “Not yet. I just . . . need more time.”