The Orphan Queen (The Orphan Queen #1)(27)

“Because you’re a criminal. I’m trying to figure out what you’re up to.”

“It’s not really your job, is it? The city has police.”

He shifted his weight and shrugged. “They underperform. They work hard, but it’s not enough. There are still thieves everywhere.” His tone was pointed. “Clearly.”

“If I were a thief, I’d steal only what I needed.”

“Like paper?”

Chills ran through me. Not even Black Knife was crazy enough to search all the warehouses in the vicinity of our previous encounter and find one misplaced crate with a loose lid.

I eyed his black shirt, trousers, and knee-high boots. His sword. His mask. Well. Maybe he was crazy enough.

“Are you going to tie me up and leave me outside a police station?”

“Eventually. Once I know what I need to know.” He looked at the wraith beast. Soon the neighborhood would realize it was safe. People would come out to look at the defeated animal. “Better go.”

I started to back away, still keeping Black Knife in my sight.

Between us, the wraith beast gurgled one last time and died. White mist spewed from the body, a viscous miasma that filled the street.

I coughed and gagged and dropped to the ground. Tendrils of mist swirled around me, suffocating me, drowning me. Darkness shoved at the edge of my vision.

Then it was gone. Dispersed, I guessed.

I was flat on my back, and a shadow leaned over me, touching the pulse at my throat.

Black Knife.

I kicked, but he pressed one palm to my sternum, then twisted and caught my ankle. “I was just checking to make sure you’re alive.” His grip loosened a fraction. “I’m going to back away.”

When I didn’t move, he released me and took several long strides.

“I’m fine.” I grabbed my daggers and scrambled to my feet. “What was that?”

“They release wraith when they die.” Black Knife gave a deep nod, almost a bow, and sidestepped into a shadow. Metal skidded on the cobblestones—his crossbow, perhaps—and then there was only silence.

I peered into the darkness for a moment longer, but caught no movement, no sounds. Either he’d slipped away or he was waiting for me to leave first.

As much as I hated turning my back on a boy with a crossbow, I had to get back to Skyvale Palace. I couldn’t let Melanie return before me.

I spun and ran down the street, keeping to the darkness where I could. I climbed up buildings and used the roofs to get around more quickly, being sure to stop and check for pursuit often. It was bad enough Black Knife had followed me tonight. He couldn’t know where I was staying or the truth of my mission.

By the time I reached my room in the palace, my whole body shook with adrenaline and exhaustion. My daggers clattered to my bedroom floor as I shut the balcony door behind me and then stood listening for Melanie’s presence. Straining to hear her voice, her breathing, the soft way she snored when she slept.

I shouldn’t have worried about returning before her. When the window finally opened and she crept inside, dawn was just touching the sky.





NINE


CROWN PRINCE TOBIAH might have been a spoiled, sullen boy, but he kept his promise.

A few days after Black Knife and I killed the wraith beast, I walked into a large study, all polished wood and paintings, with a heavy desk at one end and conference table in the center. There were six men in the room: four in military dress at the table, James standing at ease in the corner, and Tobiah at the desk.

“Lady Julianna.” Tobiah rose, the others following suit. He gestured to the table. “I’m glad you could join us. Please take a seat.” His tone was cool.

All around the table, polite smiles fell.

“Thank you for the invitation, Your Highness.” I gathered up my gown, a high-waisted creation of midnight blue silk, and prepared to sit. The whole room went quiet. Waiting.

A lady never scooted in her own chair if gentlemen or footmen were present. But now, the men at the table stared at me like they’d never seen a lady before.

Maybe they hadn’t. Not in here.

Just as I started to sit without the luxury of fitting comfortably at the table—as if I hadn’t been scooting my own chair for years—Tobiah shot James a look and nod, and the bodyguard stepped from his post.

The room was held-breath quiet as I picked up the ends of my gown, and James pushed my chair as I sat. “I’m happy to see you again, my lady.” His voice was soft. So was the way his fingertips grazed my shoulder blade as he stepped away.

“You all know of Lady Julianna Whitman of Liadia, I trust.” Tobiah strode away from his desk, a small stack of papers in his hands. “Please treat her with as much respect as you’d treat one another.”

That seemed unlikely to happen. Not when I was invading their world.

“Lady Julianna has done what few of us have dared: she’s traveled through the wraithland and survived. Her knowledge will be invaluable and her determination to put a stop to the wraith problem is no less than ours.”

Part of me wondered if those praises should make me feel guilty. But while I hadn’t trekked through the wraithland, I had lived through something horrific, and I did want the wraith problem solved.

But more immediately, I had those four tasks: information, misdirection, rescue, and map.