BLAISE USED TO HATE HAVING me trail after him everywhere when we were young. He ran, he hid, he called me names, but still I wouldn’t leave him alone. We were exploring a tunnel in the abandoned dungeons below the palace when his patience finally ran out. He shut me in the tunnel and closed the door. I was in there only ten minutes when Birdie found me crying, but it was the most trouble he’d ever gotten in.
“She’ll be your queen one day,” his father told him later. I don’t remember Blaise’s father as an angry man. He was the rare sort of person who listened far more often than he spoke, and never raised his voice. That day, however, was the fiercest I’d seen him. “If you want to be a Guardian, you protect her with everything you have, because without her there is no Astrea.”
I can’t help but think about that day now, after Hoa has brought and whisked away both tea and dinner. Now the only thing left to do is wait to see if Søren will show up. Artemisia and Heron are still out, so it’s only Blaise behind his wall, and we haven’t spoken since he left my room hours ago. The quiet is awkward and heavy, like a wool cloak in the dead heat of summer. I feel like that child again, clinging to him when he wants nothing to do with me, even though I know that isn’t true. He’s here, he’s helping me, he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t care. But maybe he’s thinking of his father’s decree to protect me. Maybe it’s his loyalty to my royal blood that keeps him here, not me as a person.
The idea of it frustrates me.
He had been the one to come into my room—even sending the others away first. He had been the one to bring up our childhood kiss. He had started it. I want to say something about it, but it would only lead to another argument and I’m so tired of fighting with him.
My mother always shrugged off her romances, picking a new favorite for each season, though Ampelio was usually close and never fully out of favor.
Not for the first time, I wonder how she did it. I only have to worry about the feelings of two boys and I already feel like I’m being pulled apart at the seams. It should be simple: one is my ally, one is my enemy. In a perfect world, that’s all either of them would ever be in order to keep things uncomplicated, but there doesn’t seem to be any hope of that now. I can still feel Blaise’s lips, warm and soft against mine, even as I look at my reflection in the mirror and wonder what Søren will think when he sees me.
If he sees me. It must be nearly midnight now and there’s no sign that Søren is going to come after all. Blaise and the others must have been wrong.
“Why don’t you like Dragonsbane?” I ask Blaise when the silence gets to be too much.
“I like her just fine,” he says, clearly taken aback.
“You don’t, though,” I press. “Every time she’s mentioned, you look uncomfortable. She’s always your last option. You don’t trust her, but she’s saved so many lives—”
“If they could afford to be saved,” he says before sighing. “I’m not…I get it. It’s expensive, keeping her ship running and her crew fed. I can’t begrudge her for needing reimbursement, but I’ve seen people die because they couldn’t afford her help. And the attacks on the Kaiser—”
“She’s been a thorn in his side since the siege, you can’t deny that.”
“Can’t I?” he asks. “Ampelio did often enough over the years. Those ships she attacked, the cargo ships? Who do you think crewed them? A handful of Kalovaxians and ten times as many Astrean slaves. Who do you think took lifeboats out before the ships sank? Who do you think drowned in chains?” His voice has turned hard and angrier than I’ve ever heard it.
My stomach clenches at the idea of Astreans drowning in chains, helpless and afraid.
“I never thought about that,” I admit quietly.
He gives a slow exhale. “She’s done a lot of good, I won’t deny that. But the price…Ampelio thought it was too high, and I agree with him.”
Before I can reply, a knock comes, soft and tentative.
“Theo?” Blaise whispers, suddenly still behind his wall.
“I heard it,” I say just as quietly, rolling out of bed and smoothing my dress down before walking toward my door. I’m halfway there when the knock sounds again, a little louder and not coming from the door at all. It’s coming from my wardrobe. I grab the nearest thing—a brass candlestick set on the bedside table—with my heart pounding against my ribs. The other entrance. I realize Søren must have found it.
But how long has he been in there? And what did he hear? The thought sends me into a fresh panic, and I clutch the candlestick tighter.
The porcelain knob rattles; then the armoire door swings open and Søren tumbles out, barely managing to land on his feet. Clumsy as it is, there’s a surprising amount of grace in the exit, especially considering that the wardrobe seems far from big enough to hold his broad frame. My dresses have been pushed to either side, and behind him, in the back of the armoire, I can just make out the opening of a tunnel.
A tunnel in my armoire is certainly helpful to know about, though I’m embarrassed that I’ve never found it myself. Not that there was ever much of an opportunity to snoop before, with my old Shadows always watching.
But how long has he been in there? If he overheard Blaise and me talking, I’ll have a difficult time explaining that away.
“Søren?” I say, doing my best impression of being surprised. I drop my arm to my side and try to hide the panic coursing through me. “What are you doing here?”
He straightens up, and his bright blue eyes move from my face, to my dress, to the candlestick in my hand. There’s no suspicion there, I notice. If he’d heard me talking about Dragonsbane as an ally, he wouldn’t look nearly so amused. I almost sag with relief, but manage to keep my expression surprised.
“Sorry, I planned this to go a bit more smoothly.” He scratches at the back of his neck and gives me a sheepish smile. “Were you talking to someone?”
I glance at Blaise’s wall and give Søren a shrug. “My Shadows,” I explain, gesturing to the walls. “I heard a noise and got a bit frightened.”
He frowns and glances at the walls in turn. “Your Shadows are here? Even when you sleep?”
My laugh is light and flirtatious. “I’m a very dangerous girl, Your Highness. The Kaiser wants to make sure I don’t incite rebellions or sneak off with crown prinzes.”
“Ah,” he says, and though the room is lit only by the moonlight coming through the window, I can almost swear I see his cheeks redden. “Do you think they can be persuaded to look the other way for a night?” he asks.
“Maybe if you ask nicely,” I say before pitching my voice lower. “Why? Were you planning on inciting a rebellion tonight?”
Søren’s eyes glint with amusement in the moonlight before he turns his attention back to the walls. “I’m taking Lady Thora on a stroll. We’ll be back in a couple hours’ time. I can manage to keep her out of trouble until then,” he says in a voice I now recognize as his commanding Prinz voice.
“Are you certain?” I tease. “It’s a pretty sizable job.”
“Whose side are you on?” he asks.
I know he’s joking, but the words send a jolt through me anyway, reminding me I need to be careful.
“The Kaiser won’t like it,” Blaise interrupts. He’s pitched his voice lower and it sounds raspier. If I didn’t know it was him, I would assume the voice belonged to someone older. Someone unused to speaking.
“The Kaiser doesn’t have to know,” Søren says. “And I’ll see to it that you’re handsomely rewarded.”
Blaise hesitates, as if he’s actually thinking it over. “Two hours,” he says finally.
Søren nods, triumphant, and steps toward me, taking the candlestick from my hand and crossing to the dying fireplace, crouching with his back to me. When he stands up again, the candle is lit. “Come on, then,” he says, coming toward me and slipping his hand around mine, pulling me toward the tunnel in the back of the wardrobe. “We don’t have much time, and I want to show you something.”
“Oh, what could it be?” I ask innocently. “Troops? Weapons? What else does a rebellion need?”
He glances at the walls before shooting me a warning look. “Careful, or they might change their minds,” he says, but he hasn’t lost the mirth in his eyes. Despite myself, I can feel a dose of giddiness coursing through me as well. His enthusiasm is contagious and his callused hand around mine is raising delightful goose bumps on my skin. I hope Blaise can’t see the effect Søren is having on me, or if he can that he thinks it’s just an act.
See? I want to say. I can flirt with whomever I like, kiss whomever I like. It doesn’t mean anything with him and it didn’t mean anything with you.
I need to get away from him as quickly as possible, so I follow Søren to the wardrobe. He holds the door open for me, but before I step inside, he draws me against him, shielding me from Blaise’s gaze. His head ducks so that our foreheads are nearly touching.
“You look beautiful,” he tells me, his voice barely louder than a breath.
He says it shyly, in a way that makes me wonder if he’s ever said that to anyone before. A wave of triumph washes over me. After all, there is no mistaking a comment like that for something platonic. He does actually like me. I try to ignore the other reactions his words bring out in me—the heat that rises to my cheeks, the goose bumps that rise on my arms.
“Really?” I ask, tilting my head and raising an eyebrow. “And here I was just thinking I should have kept on that gray dress.”
He gives a snort and motions me through the small doorway at the back of the wardrobe that’s just big enough to crawl through.