Aerity didn’t dare leave the safety of the castle. She waited inside the entrance hall with Wyneth by her side, her heart dancing with anticipation, which parried with worry. If Paxton was here, she knew they must be one step closer to something happening. From one of the tower entrances she saw Mrs. Rathbrook peek out, her guard behind her. Aerity waved her over.
“Please, join us.” The Lashed woman and her guard came to her side.
“What is happening?” Mrs. Rathbrook asked.
“I’m not certain, but you can remain with me. I want you kept safe.”
A rush of sound filtered down the hall as the doors opened and bodies poured in. The doors were tightly closed again and barred. Through the group of men she saw Paxton’s unruly brown waves and she couldn’t contain herself. She ran to him and grasped his hands tightly, locking her eyes onto his brown ones.
“You’re okay,” she whispered. He looked frightfully weary. “How much time do we have?”
“They’ll be here in the early morning hours,” he said. “Possibly before sunup.”
She looked at Harrison and motioned with her head back down the hall toward where the office was. They lived in that room these days. She caught Lief’s eyes over her shoulder. The man had seemed to go into warrior mode with the impending battle.
Vixie ran up alongside them with a worried expression and asked, “Where is Tiern?”
Paxton answered. “He went out with a few soldiers to warn as many villages as possible.”
Vixie’s entire being seemed to droop. “Paxton, I’m sorry for my reaction—”
“Nay, Princess, you needn’t be,” he said in a low voice. “You were taken by surprise.”
She nodded before slowing and becoming lost in the crowd. Aerity peered back and saw her in the back of the group walking with Mrs. Rathbrook.
“I should have told her,” Aerity said to Paxton. “She was so hurt.”
“What’s done is done,” he told her. “She’s a fighter. Tiern’s worried that she’s angry with him, so I urged him to go with the others to clear his mind.”
Oh, dear. They didn’t need this on top of everything else.
They hurried into the office. Vixie was the last one in, holding Mrs. Rathbrook’s hand. She closed the door and maneuvered to Aerity’s side, and then all eyes went to Paxton. Nobody bothered to sit. He didn’t wait for an invitation to speak.
“I’m going to start with the worst news first so that you can understand what we’re dealing with.” He took a deep breath and peered at Aerity. The sadness in his eyes nearly made her collapse because she knew. She knew what he was going to say. Every muscle in her body braced.
“The king and queen are dead,” he said softly to her and Vixie. “I’m very sorry.”
Even with every muscle tensed, Aerity still felt as if she’d been kicked in the chest.
She was queen of Lochlanach.
She swallowed and tried to wet her lips. At her side she heard Vixie’s deep inhale of breath. She grasped her sister’s hand, and Vixie pressed her face into Aerity’s shoulder. Aerity knew her sister was doing her best to be strong. She stroked Vixie’s hair. There were no words. She could not believe this was their reality. Her parents murdered. How had it come to this? They were dealing with the worst kind of people.
Next to Vixie, Wyneth had covered her mouth, her eyes wet. Harrison placed a hand on her back, his face grave.
Paxton hurried on. He gave approximate numbers of horses, carriages, and men, both Lashed and Unlashed, on land and sea.
“And by far the most dangerous are Prince Vito and Rozaria Rocato. Both are Lashed and ruthless. And cousins.”
“The prince is Lashed?” Lord Alvi exclaimed at the same time Aerity said, “Cousins?”
Fear whipped through Aerity when Paxton nodded. She shouldn’t be surprised by anything at this point.
“What are his weaknesses?” Lief asked.
“Beauty. Vanity.” Paxton’s jaw clenched. “His plan is to unite Lochlanach and Kalor by marrying you, Princess.”
Aerity felt a spasm of disgust.
Lord Alvi laughed without an ounce of humor. “Seems you’re a hot commodity to neighboring kingdoms, Aerity. He’ll need to queue up.”
“Lucky me,” she gritted.
“How did you escape them?” Harrison asked Paxton.
“I didn’t. They sent me ahead to make a way into the castle for them. I’m to kill the guards at the east entrance so the prince and his elite can enter the castle through the gardens in the morning hours.”
Aerity looked to Harrison. “Can we spare soldiers to stop the Kalorians at Bay Bridge?”
He grimaced. “Not enough to make it an even match while still protecting the castle. They’d be better used here on royal lands.”
“This will be a war of defense, not offense,” Lief muttered. From his voice it was clear he preferred to be on the offensive.
They stared around the room in disquiet, all minds calculating possible courses of action.
“Of course we’ll keep them locked out, right?” Vixie asked.
“There are the underground tunnels,” Wyneth pointed out. “If they manage to get in, we can have soldiers waiting below until Prince Vito and his men believe they have overtaken the castle. Then when they get good and comfy, we come out to attack.”
Lief rubbed his jaw. “I like that.”
“I do as well,” Harrison said.
“The royal lasses should be taken to safety away from the castle,” Paxton said, looking from Aerity to Vixie to Wyneth.
Oh, no. Aerity pressed her lips together. A definite sense of conviction kept her rooted to the castle.
“I don’t want to leave,” Vixie said.
“You’re next in line for the throne after Aerity,” Paxton explained. “It’s important to keep you safe.” Vixie dropped her eyes.
“I will stay,” Aerity said. All eyes went to her, and she wondered if she was being foolish and impulsive again. She couldn’t explain the sense of wrongness that filled her at the thought of leaving, as if the seas were against it.
Paxton shut his eyes. “What do you think you can do here? The kingdom needs you to be safe. You are the queen now, Aerity.”
Her heart jumped and Vixie squeezed her hand. Aerity looked around the room at the fierce but neutral faces. She knew they would support her to their deaths, but none of them would decide this for her.
“Your Majesty,” Harrison said, “if your father were here, we would advise him to leave as well. Royals are usually taken to safety and not meant to be at the front line.”
“I need a moment to myself,” she said.
One by one, people filtered from the room. Vixie’s soft hand disappeared from her grasp. Aerity leaned back against the desk, her hands covering her face. What would she do? The idea of leaving the castle and that madman getting in . . . it was the worst feeling of violation. Even if she left temporarily, she felt as if being gone meant giving up, handing it over to the enemy. She had to be there.
Aerity sensed warmth in front of her. Breath on her hands. She lowered them from her face. Paxton’s hands were on his hips.
“Don’t keep me out, Aer. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
She paused, knowing he would not like her line of thought. “You said he wants to marry me. . . .”
She could sense Paxton’s pulse rapid firing by the intensity of his set jaw. “Which is exactly why you should be kept away from him. The man is lethal and narcissistic.”
“Perhaps you’re not the only one who can play both sides.”
“Aerity.” He stepped closer. “This is not like when you faced the beast and I stood by and allowed it. I had hope in that moment. When it comes to Prince Vito, there is no hope. He is the worst kind of monster. He. Cannot. Be. Charmed.”
Aerity sucked in a shaking breath as Paxton released her and began to pace. She gripped the edge of the desk behind her. What was she to do? Flee and hope for the best?
“I need to think,” she said softly.
He came to her and lifted her chin. Their eyes met and heat filled her.
“Promise you’ll consider what I’ve said.”
“I will.”
He kissed her forehead and left her with her jumbled thoughts. Aerity went around the desk and sat down in her father’s grand chair. She placed her elbows on the desk and her face in her hands.
Her father. He would never sit on this cushion again. He would never decide the fate of the lands. He would never again look to his loyal wife for her support. And her mother would never be there, filling the room with her calming strength.
Aerity wanted to cry, but the tears did not come. She knew if she broke down now she might not recover. There was no room in her life for weakness. She breathed deeply, trying to clear her mind and think straight.
Everything within her fought to stay in her rightful home, but the people she trusted were telling her to go. To protect herself. To let them clear the enemy from their midst so she might return and rule. And she knew that if she stayed, Vixie and Wyneth would stay as well. Their lives were her responsibility.
A quiet knock came just before the door opened. Aerity lowered her hands and saw Duke Gulfton, his watery eyes peering through the barely opened door.
“Come in, good sir,” she said.
He did, and as the door opened she noticed an empty hall.
“Where have my guards gone?”
He closed the door behind him. “There was smoke in the kitchen and a disturbance at the servant’s entrance.”
Aerity stood in a rush, but Duke Gulfton held a hand out as he walked to the desk.
“Everyone is on edge. Most likely burned bread and a fight between messenger boys. It is fine.” He leaned both hands against his staff. The man appeared heavily burdened, his eyes sagging and dark circled, his back more hunched than ever.
“I thought you had returned to your land,” Aerity said.
The duke nodded. “I did, briefly, but I am back. It does not feel safe there. As you know, my property neighbors the Kalorian border.”
“Of course.” Aerity shook her head. How had she not thought of that? Her father would have insisted the duke and his family stay in the castle or in a northern property.
“I hope your family has fled to safety,” Aerity said.
His face drooped, and it took him a moment to respond. “What will you do now, Your Majesty?”
Aerity swallowed. “Though it goes against my every instinct, I think I must leave until the war is over. Not to the Isle of Evie, though. Some place different. Do you have a suggestion?”
She expected him to be relieved by her choice, but he continued to look frightfully downtrodden. His voice was dry and raspy, and he appeared to fight for strength to speak.
“Your Majesty. There are certain things your father meant to tell you when it was time for you to reign someday. Secrets of the castle. I’m sure he thought he had more time. . . .”
“Like the underground tunnels?” she asked.
He nodded. “Aye. And a vault of safety here in this very office.”
“Indeed?” Aerity perked with interest as the man began to shuffle toward the bookshelves along the wall behind the desk.
His hands shook with tremors as he grasped the top of three books and pulled them down with a creak—the books appeared to be stuck together, and moved like a lever—then he pushed with a weak grunt. Aerity moved forward to help him. She expected to see a dusty cavern but what she found was a simple elongated space that was extraordinarily clean.
“Why did he never tell me?”
“Children tend to think of secret passageways as playthings, but they are old and dangerous.”
Aye. He likely hadn’t wanted word to trickle down to Donubhan.
The room appeared to have supplies in the far corner. She walked to the corner and bent to examine the jugs of water and bag of food. All this time the room was here, ready in wait to keep her family safe. If only they could have used it. A shuffle and click sounded from behind her, and Aerity was suddenly immersed in pitch-darkness. She sucked in a breath and yelled.
“Duke Gulfton?” Aerity’s heart pumped hard as she felt along the wall. There had to be a handle of some sort. “Duke! The door has closed!” She pounded with her fist and pressed her ear to the wood. “Hello? Open the door!”
The man was old and weak, and had moments where his mind seemed absent, but he had to know the door had closed with her inside. Surely if he didn’t have the strength to open it again himself he would get help, right? Aerity pressed her palms against the door. She felt disoriented in the dark as if she might suffocate. Her heart, her breathing, were both ragged with panic. Again she pounded and smacked at the door, kicking it until her toes throbbed.
Seas . . . the vault walls were too thick for her to be heard.
Aerity pressed a hand against her chest, trying to calm herself. Why was this happening? Had Duke Gulfton gone mad? Did he think he was protecting her? But she’d told him she was going to leave. Why would he do this?
Her stomach suddenly turned and Aerity slid to her knees, overcome with nausea. The duke . . . was he the traitor? She shook her head, whispering, “No. No. It can’t be.” He was the wisest in the council. The most trustworthy. Why would he do such a thing?
Paxton would come. Vixie. Wyneth. Harrison. But they didn’t know about the vault. Surely someone in the castle would know. The military? The guards? Someone had to know! Aerity crawled forward to the door. She started feeling from the bottom, slowly running her hands over the door, taking her time to feel every single inch. Her fingernails dug along the crevices where the door sealed itself.
There was nothing. Why would they make a vault where the inhabitants could not get out? Aerity felt short of breath. Perhaps it wasn’t for safety at at all. Perhaps it was a holding place for captives.
She quickly crawled to the corner and fumbled for the supplies, hoping they would have something, anything, that she could use. She found a wooden pail and pushed it aside. Then she grabbed the bag and fiddled with the strings to open it. Cloths. A blanket. A bag of something heavy. She tugged the strings and pushed her hand inside. Oats? Useless! She pushed the bag away.
Aerity crawled until she felt the door, and sat, leaning her head back against it. She listened hard but could hear nothing except her own ragged breaths echoing in the room. And suddenly this was the proper time for that breakdown she’d been holding back.