For Want of a Fiend (12 page)

Katya shrugged, more of her bored princess persona. She could walk from the office whenever she wished. She was buying time for Reinholt to reach the safety of the palace walls, damn him.

“The light was very bad,” Katya said.

Not so bad that they couldn’t have seen Reinholt command the death of a citizen of Farraday. Captain Ursula’s door opened, and Sergeant Rhys poked his head inside.

Ursula leaned toward him, and he whispered in her ear before he bowed to Katya and Starbride and ducked out of the room. Ursula smoothed her hair back so hard, it pulled her eyes wider. “Excuse me for asking, Highness, but do I have this right? The crown prince ordered the execution of a citizen?”

Katya’s bored mask didn’t slip. “I’m sure I can get you an answer from the palace.” She stood.

Starbride stood with her, her heart slowing. If the drunk could remember that much, Katya couldn’t possibly take responsibility for the death. Starbride didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Begging your pardon, Highness,” Ursula said, “but I was hoping the palace could give me an answer right now.”

Katya smiled slightly, and Starbride could tell she admired this woman. Ursula was willing to risk royal wrath if it meant getting the truth. But she couldn’t detain Katya; she didn’t have that power.

“You’ll be hearing from me,” Katya said.

Starbride bet the old Katya would have included a leer, but not even the rake Katya had been would include such a look in front of Starbride, or so she hoped. To be sure, she nudged Katya gently toward the door. Captain Ursula was forced to open it for them.

Dawnmother and Averie wore identical blank looks, perfect ladies-in-waiting ready to spring into action. Their eyes flicked toward Starbride when Ursula turned her back. Starbride nodded toward the door to the Watch house, and both ladies started that way as if to clear a path. Ursula merely bowed as she stepped aside, and the Watch officers stopped whatever they were doing and bowed as Katya passed.

Outside, the four of them hurried through the streets, Starbride barely holding her tongue as they strode through the night. Averie and Dawnmother pulled closer as if to ward off any other attacks with their very bodies, and Starbride knew Pennynail was still following them. Near the Watch house, the festival was in full swing. A mere murder couldn’t stop the party of the year, no matter who was dead. The booths were open and lively. Vendors stalked the streets and called out their wares.

Every splash of color, every runaway scent seemed obscene. Starbride kept seeing the dead man on the ground and kept hearing the cries of the drunken brother. It all seemed so senseless, and the festival saddened her; it made her think the world had already forgotten Georgie Appleton.

She knew that wasn’t the truth. Soon, she knew, everyone would know his name.

Katya didn’t stop when they reached the safety of the palace. They hadn’t noticed any crowds waiting for them in the streets, but news of Appleton’s death had to be winging through Marienne. Instead of going straight to the king and queen’s apartment with Katya, Starbride paused.

When Katya looked at her questioningly, Starbride said, “I’ll get a report from the Order and catch up with you.”

Katya frowned but nodded. “Take great care with yourself.”

Starbride wanted to say, “Because death can happen instantly?” but she couldn’t get those words out, couldn’t mock what had happened. “And you.”

Katya gave her a quick kiss before she strode away, Averie behind her.

“Stay with me, Dawn,” Starbride whispered.

“Always.”

Starbride felt some of the pressure in her chest lessen. When Crowe answered her knock on his study door, his voice tired and punctuated by coughs, Starbride almost turned around. But Crowe had been covering up the “unpleasant tasks” for the Order for too long; he was invaluably knowledgeable, not to mention that he would rather die than be left out, no matter his condition.

“Has Pennynail told you yet?” Starbride said before Crowe had risen from his couch.

His confused face answered her. Starbride related what had happened in the dark street as quickly as she could.

Crowe wiped his bloodless lips. “Appleton? Are you certain?”

“You’ve heard of him?”

“The assistant of Magistrate Anthony, the people’s magistrate, if I remember correctly. Appleton was so instrumental in the rise of the self-made magistrate that people often said they held the position together. I’d say the spirits of luck have decided to curse Reinholt personally.”

“The people were very angry.”

“Katya is telling the king and queen?”

Starbride nodded. Dawnmother walked to the small cabinet in the corner and poured two glasses of wine. Crowe gave her a wry smile as she set his before him. “Not too proud to serve a servant?” he asked.

“You would be the one to give me lessons in pride, Crowe,” Dawnmother said, though the smile she gave him was affectionate.

“I was just getting used to you calling me Mulestubborn.” A fit of coughing seized him.

Dawnmother rubbed his back and cast a glance at Starbride. They couldn’t stay long. “Pennynail should be along shortly,” Starbride said.

“I don’t need a nursemaid.”

Dawnmother shook her head and tsked. “You remind me so much of my father.”

“He was a paragon of stubbornness as well?”

“He was a good man.” Before Crowe could smile too much from the compliment, Dawnmother added, “Who worked himself to death.”

To Starbride’s surprise, Crowe simply sighed and rested a hand on his belly, on top of his wound. “We have to work quickly. I’ll send Pennynail to find out what the common people are saying and to see what he can do to bank the fires of anti-monarchial sentiment.”

“What should I do?” Starbride asked.

“I don’t know what you
can
do.” He tapped his chin, lost in thought, before he snapped his fingers. “You and I are both commoners. We can use that. We can remind the rich and the noble that the common people have power. The Umbriels are going to have to hold a funeral for Appleton and make significant contributions to whatever charities he and Magistrate Anthony fancied, whatever causes they championed. Now more than ever, you’ll have to be seen.”

“I’ll catch up with Katya, and we’ll see what we can do.”

*

Starbride didn’t take the secret passage to the king and queen’s quarters; she went the traditional way instead. Two guards had been stationed discreetly down the hall from the royal apartment, but by their wary expressions, they’d heard some yelling. Past them, Averie stood right outside the king’s door.

The guards stood to attention as Starbride approached. “I’m sorry Princess Consort,” one said. “They’re not to be disturbed, on order from the king.”

Starbride pointed past the guard. “I’d like a word with the princess’s lady-in-waiting, please.”

The guard sighed, as if relieved she’d not yelled at him. Averie hurried down the hall and then walked with Starbride and Dawnmother a few steps away from the guards.

“How’s it going?” Starbride whispered.

“They’re all in there now, except for Lord Vincent. From what I could gather, the king isn’t holding the champion responsible.”

Starbride would have loved to place some blame on the champion’s shoulders, but Reinholt was the one at fault. She told Averie what Crowe had said they should do.

“No doubt Katya will agree with him,” Averie said.

Starbride had to admire Averie’s calm. If forced to just wait in a hallway, she would have been wringing her hands; she felt like wringing them now. “I could go out again with Dawnmother and see if we can pick up the general mood.”

Averie’s face went very still, diplomatically so. “With respect, you should leave it to Pennynail.”

“I can go where Pennynail can’t.”

It was true, and Averie’s expression said they both knew it. Averie didn’t know Pennynail’s identity, but unless he was a courtier or a noble, he would be barred from places where Starbride would have easy entry, private clubs or expensive taverns.

“We shouldn’t be making decisions without Katya.”

“I’ll go with an escort. Pennynail from the shadows when he isn’t lurking in dens of ill repute and Dawnmother the entire time.”

“Don’t be ostentatious,” Averie said, her eyes far away, and her mind obviously working. “Something fine but sensible. And you should have one more guard.”

“I know just the one.” Starbride strode away. It felt so good to have a course of action, no matter that the course was a little dangerous. Anything was better than waiting around the damned palace. She was getting used to adventure, but she had to be cautious lest it swallow her whole.

*

Hugo was more than happy to join them, just as Starbride thought; he made an excellent guard. No one would question a lordly escort, and Hugo had proven himself a capable fighter.

Starbride replaced the gown she’d worn for the opening of the festival, opting instead for one of her finer Allusian outfits, deep red trousers, and shirt with a cherry-colored bodice embroidered in gold. She left the consort’s cuff behind and wore rubies instead of diamonds. A wine colored cloak hid her from neck to toe.

Dawnmother walked at Starbride’s side, so close they occasionally bumped into each other. She didn’t see Pennynail, but she wouldn’t until she needed him.

She only hoped she wouldn’t.

The fall festival was still going strong, even though it was approaching midnight. Many of the families had gone, but street children flocked everywhere, and the crowds were only a bit thinner though a lot rowdier.

Close to where the murder had taken place, the streets seemed dangerously quiet. Starbride passed near the tavern the two drunks had come from, but she walked quickly to a nicer neighborhood. The sign above her destination was a bar of gold surrounded by a stack of gold coins. Starbride sighed. And the rich wondered why the poor didn’t always think highly of them.

The guard on the door frowned as he looked at Starbride’s features. She opened her cloak enough to show her fine clothes, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. That and a look at Hugo’s finery convinced the guard to step aside, bowing as he went.

Starbride didn’t spare him a glance. Inside, music and chatter washed over her. The floor and tables were made of dark wood, highly polished. The shutters had been thrown wide open, but they’d been covered with loosely woven material that caught some of the dust from outside. Bolts of striped silk hung from the ceiling and met in the middle of the room above a giant chandelier. The chandelier wasn’t lit by common fire, oh no. Sparkling pyramids perched in its silver branches.

Starbride was almost disappointed the crowd wasn’t wilder. Though men and women gathered in the aisles as well as at the tables, the conversation wasn’t loud enough to drown out the lute-playing singer in the corner.

“Shall I secure us a table, Miss Starbride?” Hugo said. “Princess Consort, I mean.”

“If you can’t just call me Starbride, Hugo, then miss will do.” She leaned close to him. “And absolutely not Princess Consort, not tonight.”

He flushed but chuckled and started for a nearby table, no doubt to tell its occupants to make way for her. She grabbed his sleeve.

“Let’s mingle,” she said. “We’re after information.”

It had been mere hours, but gossip about the murder had spread like wildfire. Evidently, neither the Watch nor the drunk nor the crowds had been silent, but like all gossip, everything had been tainted. Of what they heard, the prince had killed the princess; the princess had killed an entire squad of the Watch; a magistrate was dead by the prince’s order, by the princess’s, by the Watch. Most disturbing of all was that whenever the Umbriels were mentioned, the crowd made a point of saying how the royals were “within their rights” to kill a member of the public. And most of the people in the crowd weren’t nobles. Some were courtiers or wannabes, all wealthy, with little or nothing to do. The Umbriels were like the spirits in their eyes.

“Whoever this man was, no doubt he deserved what he got,” one said before taking a sniff out of a perfumed silk handkerchief.

He’d been doing that all night, and the bar didn’t even smell bad. The handkerchief must have held more than just perfume. “Surely, no one deserves to be killed in the street,” Starbride said.

Silk Handkerchief blinked at her, his eyes glassy. “But you…you’re…” He clearly didn’t know what to say, probably torn by her obvious position and the humble background he thought implied by her race.

“Tensions will be running high.” Starbride raised her voice to capture the attention of everyone within earshot. “We must coexist in Marienne, however you may view your…less fortunate neighbors.” She smiled as they chuckled, some toasting what they thought was a veiled insult. Starbride let them think as they would. “The Umbriels will do what they can to smooth this matter over, and I think we must set a conciliatory example.”

Sage heads around her nodded, but some of the younger dandies and bravos laughed. “What could a bunch of peasants do?” one of them asked.

Starbride gritted her teeth.

“They could shut the city down,” Hugo said.

Everyone around them quieted and looked at Hugo as if he’d grown another head. “What in the spirits’ names are you talking about?” Silk Handkerchief asked.

“We’d have no bakers, no farmers, no butchers; no one to drive the carts, clear the roads, or tend the livestock. They could just…stop.”

Silence spread from their little bubble like a crashing wave. Even the noise from the singing lute player died down. “They…couldn’t do that,” someone in the crowd said.

Starbride shook her head. “You can’t beat a man back to work.” Hopefully, Horsestrong’s wisdom would further cut through the entitled haze. Around her, eyes peered into drinks and brows furrowed. She’d given them something to think about, all she could do at the moment.

Well, that and hurry back to the palace to practice her pyramids and wait for Katya. Crowe had been showing her how to use more destruction pyramids, and she needed to alter her clothes to carry more than one when she didn’t have her satchel. Flash bombs were all fine and well, but it was past time to make sure she had something dangerous.