But none of this was what I'd come to search for. That item was at the very bottom of Simon's satchel. It was the sack the Banished had brought to the inn, an item so small that I'd have missed it unless I'd been deliberately hunting for it. Inside the pouch was a silver key, too delicate for a door or even the lock on a set of manacles. I knew Woodcourt well and couldn't think of a single thing this key might be used for. More importantly, I couldn't think of any reason the Banished would want me to have it.
I briefly recalled Thorne's words to Trina last night, that the Halderians were coming for me again. Let them try. I was not the cowering little girl I'd been three years ago. If I could turn the tables on the Coracks, I could hold my own against the Banished too. And I would begin by figuring out the purpose for this key.
I folded the key and its sack inside my skirts as I hurried back to my room. There I deposited them behind a loose wall panel in one corner. That cavity used to hide personal treasures and candies, relatively innocent things I didn't want to explain to my parents. Now it hid something that I suspected people had risked their lives to protect.
I wasn't alone much longer before Trina returned to my room. Her smile was so fake it might have been painted on. "Were you here the whole time I was gone?"
If there was ever a time to play innocent, this was it. "Where else would I go?"
"Did you go to the stables?"
I bit down on my tongue, checking any expression of triumph. After seeing Gerald, she and Simon had gone back there together. He had searched his bag and realized the key was missing. He must be furious right now, or, at least, I hoped he was.
"I'd get filthy in the stables." I brushed off her accusation with a casual wave of my hand. "Mess up all the work you did for tonight. Why do you ask?"
It was a question she couldn't answer. Simon had told me that the sack from the Halderians contained nothing of importance, and if she asked me specifically about it, that would suggest it was important.
She replied the only way she could. "No reason. Someone mentioned they had seen you there, that's all."
Nobody had seen me there. I wasn't foolish enough to allow that.
She took time to fix a few loose curls of my hair, and it was far too soon before a knock came at my door. Was it time for the supper already? Hungry as I was, no food could taste good enough to counteract the bitterness of meeting someone I'd soon be forced to marry.
You won't be here by then. That thought was poor comfort, but it was all I had.
I had expected Gerald would escort me, but Simon poked his head inside. His attention instantly fixed on me and a small smile escaped his lips before he corrected it. "Gerald is attending to your father. I'll take you to the supper."
Well, wouldn't he like that? Three minutes longer that he could keep an eye on me, lecture me. I walked beside him while we passed a couple of maids, but once we started down the steps, Simon paused on a landing and touched my arm, asking me to stop too.
"I know the plan!" I hissed. "Honestly--"
"That's not it." He glanced around, ensuring we were alone. "I just wanted to say ... about Trina ... well, that was a decent thing you did."
I wasn't sure how to respond. Was this an attempt at kindness? Maybe he was confusing me with someone else, someone he didn't hate.
Finally, I shrugged. "I caused the problem. I couldn't let her take the blame."
"Six years ago, you let John and me take the blame for that missing ring. Maybe I judged you too harshly, and if I have, then I'm sorry." A beat passed. "I'm sorry things have to happen this way."
He stopped there, searching my eyes with his. What was he hoping to find in me? Goodness? Proof that he was right to apologize? Because if he was looking for anything redeemable, he'd be disappointed. I did accuse him and John that day, I was never going to put the Olden Blade in his hands, and I was part of the Dallisor world, not his. None of that would ever change.
Unless it could change ... back. We had been friends once, in our way. If I had not set a torch to that friendship, things might have been very different now.
If he had stayed on in our household, if we had grown up as friends ... perhaps as something more than friends, maybe I'd be used to him looking at me with this intensity. Like he was memorizing the details of my face, and at the same time, scrambling my thoughts, softening the shell I'd built around me.
If he was testing my courage, then I couldn't be the first to lower my eyes. He couldn't think, or suspect, or know how his gaze unnerved me, disarmed me. The depth in his eyes emptied me of my defenses, protection I absolutely needed if I was going to survive this. If he was strong, then I had to be stronger. I held his gaze, determined to hide my every weakness. Or to discover his.
Our standoff only lasted a few seconds, though it felt much longer, and Simon was the first to blink. I started back down the steps, saying, "We can't be late."
He had been about to say something, probably to ask if I'd stolen anything from him recently. But with bustling noises below from the servants, we no longer had the privacy of the landing for such a conversation.
He held out his arm for me to walk at his side. I also knew what that was--a polite excuse to keep me close enough for us to speak quietly.
"You clean up well," he said. "Your ... er, hair."
The compliment was awkward, but sincere. The fact that he had anything nice to say surprised me. "Trina does better work than I'd have expected."
"She's not as stupid as you've made her out to be." He sighed. "Trina's had a difficult life, rejected nearly everywhere she's gone."
I snorted. "Shocking news."
He tried again. "All she wants is to do something important. You can understand how humiliating this must be."
"Yes, constantly threatening my life must be awful for her. Maybe you're offended because you like her."
He paused, taken aback. "That's not true."
"Isn't it? Then why are you ignoring her connection to the Banished?"
He stopped and released my arm, pulling me into an alcove near the main vestibule. A marble bust of Lord Endrick gazed down on us here. How appropriate.
Simon said, "In the first place, I'm not ignoring anything! I just don't feel the need to share my deepest thoughts with the girl I'm--"
"Kidnapping? Whose life you're destroying?"
His eyes flashed, an honest reaction before he steadied himself again. "The girl who gave her word to cooperate with us. And in the second place, Trina is loyal to the Coracks and so am I. There is nothing more between us."
I stared back at him. "She might be loyal to the Coracks, but not in the same way you are. As someone who is in the process of lying to nearly every face I see, trust me when I say that I can recognize it in someone else. Find out the truth about her, or she could put both our lives at risk." He licked his lips, then held out his arm again. "Worry about your own traitors, not mine. You were right before. I shouldn't make you late for that supper."
Formal suppers were usually served in the great hall of Woodcourt. However, Gerald met us there and, with a polite bow, said, "Your father was unexpectedly called away by Lord Endrick. He sends his apologies and has ordered me to sit in on the supper in his place. We'll be in the small dining room."
"So it's just the three of us?" I asked. "You, me, and this Basil person?"
"This person is Prince Basil the Fifth of Reddengrad, son of King Albert and heir to the throne of Reddengrad."
I grimaced. "Can I just call him Basil?"
"Sir Basil is eager to meet you. Your father has told him all about you."
"If he truly had, then Sir Basil wouldn't be at all eager to meet me. I'm sure everything he's been told is an exaggeration, at best. Either that, or he's been forced here tonight, as I have."
"That's not the case, Lady Kestra, I assure you." Gerald signaled to Simon, who bowed to dismiss himself. "As Kestra's protector, you're expected to stand watch at the supper." He eyed me. "Unless the lady doesn't want you
there."
I didn't.
"It's not necessary for him to come," I told Gerald. "There won't be any trouble, I'm sure."
"I'll come anyway," Simon offered, ever vigilant. "We can't take any risks involving you ... my lady."
If Gerald had not been here, those words would've been the start of a glorious fight. As it was, I only took Gerald's arm, letting Simon trail behind us.
"I remember you from your earliest years," Gerald said as we walked.
"That cannot be true. No offense, Gerald, but if I had seen you before today, I would remember."
He smiled. "No offense is taken. I know how I look. But I have worked here for many years. Most of that time was belowground, where you'd never have seen me."
Belowground meant the dungeons, I was sure. Nothing else at Woodcourt fit that description. I stole a glance at Simon, warning him not to walk so close. If Gerald were to recognize him from six years ago, that would be a disaster.
Or it might make Gerald useful to the Corack plan. If he could be trusted, he might have some idea of where Risha's dagger was.
I quickly dismissed that thought. Gerald would surely have been questioned, probably by Lord Endrick himself. And nobody could be trusted. Nobody.
"What I meant to say, my lady, is that you have grown into an impressive young woman. If you ever need help, for any reason, then you can ask me."
I was in desperate need of help, but not from anyone who bowed to my father. Even if he meant well, Gerald's help could only sink me further into trouble.
Whatever I had expected Sir Basil to be, it was not who I saw as I entered the intimate dining room. He stood when I entered, giving me a low bow, which I returned with a halfhearted curtsy. Like most people raised in the softer climes to the south, his hair was light blond and hung in loose tousles from his head. He was tall and lean, near my age, and, as far as I could tell, made entirely of fluff.
He took my hand and gave it a kiss, though I quickly pulled away. He drew back, offended, but my sleeve was riding up on my wrist and I didn't want him to notice the wounds there. Hoping to cover, I said, "You make me blush, Sir Basil."
What a stupid thing to say! I didn't blush, and it was simply fine manners for him to have kissed my hand. It was fortunate that I didn't care what he thought of me, because otherwise, I'd have cared deeply that I had just taken on the role of a simpering ninny. That was almost worse than being a traitor.
"You are more beautiful than your father described," Basil said.
Maybe that was because my father hadn't seen me for three years, and probably couldn't even remember what I looked like.
"She is beautiful indeed," Gerald said. "Such striking eyes, wouldn't you agree?"
I'd always wished to have my mother's eyes rather than my own. Hers were kind and loving, eyes that radiated peace. Instead, my eyes had the look of trouble. Wasn't that what Lord Endrick had said?
"Shall we eat?" Gerald politely gestured to our seats.
The table in this room was small, though it was larger than the three of us needed and certainly more elaborate than I'd been accustomed to for some time. Gerald took a seat at the head of the table, then Basil pulled out a chair for me at the far end and chose the chair nearest to it for himself. As a protector would be expected to do, Simon stood against the wall directly behind me. Basil never gave him more than a passing glance, but as I turned back, I noticed Simon's full attention was fixed on Basil, much like a wolf observes a sheep.
Plates were brought in piled high with candied plums, goat cheese, and rye bread. I was ravenously hungry and wanted more than anything to dive face-first into the food. Darrow's training from the past three years echoed in my mind, however.
"Patience brings victory," he often said. "Do not be in a rush."
He might have had different advice if he'd known I was starving, but as it was, all I could do was remember his words and know that I had the whole evening to eat as much as I wanted.
"Can we begin by agreeing this is awkward?" Basil reached for my hand. "We've just met, but it's already settled that we will be married."
I smiled insincerely and pulled my hand away to stuff a cube of cheese into my mouth. If he noticed, it didn't stop him from talking.
"We'll make our home in Reddengrad, of course, though allowances will be made for you to visit your father as often as you might want."
"I haven't been here for three years," I said. "I didn't miss this place even once."
"Ah." Well, now it was awkward.
"What sorts of activities do you enjoy?" Basil asked. "Sewing? Dancing?"
Sword fighting. Riding horses. Occasionally shooting disks into hay bales dressed like anyone who had annoyed me that week, if I was in a bad enough mood.
Of course, I didn't say any of that. I only nodded and ate another cube of cheese.
He broke some bread and, while eating pieces from it, said, "Let me tell you about myself, then. I'm good with a staff--"
I'd choose a sword over a staff any day. I preferred weapons with a pointy end. Darrow used to joke about that.
Used to ... I wondered if Darrow was still alive. If Celia had been rewarded for her treachery, or if the Coracks had decided she was no longer useful to them. It was increasingly difficult to tell the difference between innocents and enemies.
Basil was still talking. I'd probably missed a few things on his list. "I have a great deal of family money--"
As did I. Which was merely luck on both our parts, not a character trait. Unless he did consider that a character trait, which would be another strike against him.
"--and I'm kind." He leaned forward. "I'll be kind to you, Kestra. Always."
Behind me, Simon coughed, probably one he'd faked. He mumbled an apology, but it wasn't at all sincere.
After the first course, a spiced pea soup was brought in. To his credit, Basil had excellent manners, a reminder of how relaxed Darrow had been with the proper training I should have received while he was teaching me to drop from a tree onto a moving horse instead. No wonder I had driven Celia to betrayal. It was a miracle she hadn't done worse to me.
As we ate, Basil told me all about his estate, our future home, which had been given to him by his father, the king of Reddengrad. Basil would inherit the throne one day, though he anticipated that was many years away. His father was in excellent health and expected to live a long life, or something like that. I'd mostly quit listening by then.
Midway through his monologue, I turned to Gerald. "When do you think my father will be finished with his business for Lord Endrick?"
Gerald seemed surprised to have been remembered and looked up from his soup. "My lady, I don't know."
"Another hour? All evening? Until tomorrow?" In other words, if I got rid of Basil, would I have time to search the library?
"With the Lord of the Dominion, anything is possible," Gerald said.
Then my attention went to Basil. "What is your opinion of Lord Endrick?"
I suspected Sir Basil would've filled his cheeks with cheese cubes if it would've helped him get out of this change in the conversation. But the cheese tray was gone, and filling one's cheeks with soup didn't work in the same way.
"I ... er, admire him greatly, of course," he finally sputtered.
"Of course. And when you're on the throne of Reddengrad, do you hope to be like him? Is that the reason for our marriage, for you to gain favor with Lord Endrick?"
"Kestra--" Gerald started.
"It's a fair question!" I turned to Basil again. "Why did you agree to this marriage?"
Basil leaned forward. "Why did you, my lady?"
We stared at each other for a moment and then we began to laugh. Nothing forced or fake, but a real laugh, both of us conceding that we were only here because someone else had made it so. With that, the awkwardness dropped away and we enjoyed the rest of our meal with ease.
In fact, the only time it became uncomfortable after that was when I caught a glimpse of Simon fro
m the corner of my eye. He wasn't enjoying this meal at all. He was furious.
Good.
It's hard to know how long the supper went, but based on my growing impatience to finish the evening, I figured that I'd stood against the wall, watching Basil and Kestra flirt, for approximately nine hundred hours.
When Gerald finally suggested they end the evening, I pulled Kestra's seat back before he'd even finished his sentence.
"Your protector is anxious for his own night's sleep, I see," Basil said, laughing at me.
He could laugh all he wanted. I wasn't letting go of Kestra's chair.
"He knows I'm tired," Kestra said. "We arrived this morning from a difficult journey, and as you say, he's my protector. Whether I like it or not."
Basil stood when she did. This time, I noticed her hands deliberately clasped behind her back. With no hand to kiss, Basil gave Kestra a low bow, meeting her eyes when he rose again. A smile spread across his face as he surveyed her, top to bottom. Briefly, I considered the consequences if I smacked that eager expression off his face. What was he doing? Appraising her as his future queen? As his wife? Basil didn't know her, not after just one supper and not when she was hiding so much. He had no right to look at her that way.
I shifted my position to stand directly behind Kestra, making sure Basil saw me. I couldn't make Kestra leave, but the instant she took her first step, I would gladly escort her out the door.
"I'm staying here in Highwyn for a few days," Basil said. "Perhaps I can see you again before I return home?"
"Perhaps."
Was that a flirtation, a way of teasing him into another visit? Or was she politely avoiding any further connection to him? I couldn't tell, which frustrated me to no end, but I hoped it was the latter. She was already being forced to commit treason against Antora. Her schedule was full.