The Orphan Queen (The Orphan Queen #1)(33)

“Thank you.” The envelope was sealed with the royal crest. The wax snapped in half and the envelope released a single, heavy card with thick script.

Please join His Majesty Terrell Pierce, Sovereign of the Indigo Kingdom, for breakfast tomorrow at the ninth hour. Dress is formal.



Frowning, I flipped the card over, but that was it.

“Someone looks unhappy,” Melanie said, once the maid and courier were gone. “Bad news?”

“No. Probably a good opportunity. Just”—I flicked the card onto the table—“I hate being here. I hate that we’re expected to jump and run because he says.”

Melanie picked up the card and skimmed. “We’re expected to jump and run for the Ospreys, too.”

“Yes, but Patrick earned our respect when he freed us from the orphanage. What has King Terrell done for us?” And there was an interesting question about monarchs, but it was one I didn’t want to ponder now.

“Well.” Melanie sat on the arm of a sofa and folded her hands. “For Julianna, he’s provided shelter, food, an entire wardrobe, and anything else you ask for. He’s probably fantasizing about who he’ll marry you off to, once he deems enough time has passed that it’s not inappropriate.”

“All his kindness would mean more if I were really Julianna, not Wilhelmina.” I’d begun answering to her name, though, without pause for thought. Responding quickly was good for the mission, but I wasn’t sure I liked it.

“Even so, you should enjoy the wealth while we have it.” She gave a liquid shrug. “As you said, soon it’ll be all dirt, hunger, and walks through bloody battlefields. The anniversary is in the spring.”

“And we’d best complete our tasks.” I tapped the lid of the writing box. “Our map is in progress, which leaves the other three tasks. Intelligence about the Indigo Army’s locations in Aecor, the list of resistance groups, and the Aecorian draftees on the front lines of the wraithland.”

Melanie paled. “So you have confirmation they’re being drafted?”

“I heard it straight from Overlord Colin Pierce. And I know what I have to do.” During lunch, I’d been flipping through Tobiah’s papers, and a few important signatures stood out.

With a spare sheet of paper in front of me, I dipped my pen into black ink and began practicing the first signature.

Melanie’s expression shifted into understanding. “That’s not quite right.” She poked through the collection of nibs. “Try this one.”

The second nib was stiffer, forcing my writing cobweb thin, same as General Fredrick Goldberg’s. “Better. Thanks.” I sent her to fetch the appropriate paper from his office while I practiced the second signature, and then we drafted a letter recalling the Aecorian troops from the front lines.

We worked through dinner, triple-checking the handwriting and word choice against official documents, and finally signed it with Colin Pierce’s and Fredrick Goldberg’s names.

I was Julianna, a general, and occasionally the orphaned Princess of Aecor. I was anyone I needed to be.

“How will we deliver this?” Melanie asked.

“Tonight, go to Colin Pierce’s office and seal it closed with his sigil. Then, find out who the military uses to send their urgent messages, and hire him. I’m sure you can obtain the money for his usual fee as well as discretion.” I grinned. “Just don’t let anyone catch you.”

She feigned offense. “I’m practically invisible.”

“Say it again.” I snapped and thumped my chest, and she did the same. “Don’t forget to poke around for the lists of resistance groups and Indigo Army locations in Aecor.”

“What Patrick wants, Patrick gets. Are you going to rest here for a while?” She glanced at the sofa where I’d left a book about the Indigo Kingdom’s history. Tobiah had sent it shortly after the ball.

“I’m going for a walk. I need to clear my thoughts.”

She flashed a sympathetic smile and nodded. “I know this is difficult, but we’re making progress. We’re about to free hundreds—maybe thousands—of our people.”

“We still need to make home a safe place for them.”

“We will.” Conviction filled her voice. “I know we will.”

It was hard not to wonder about her faith, though. Did she believe in me? Or just Patrick? He was the leader of the Ospreys. I was a title.

When she was gone, I changed into a black sweater and pants, and laced my boots tight. Cold air hovered near the window, hinting of the frigid evening, so I pulled a cap over the braids and coils of my hair. My daggers fit neatly at my hips, comforting weight I missed in the palace.

I left our apartments a few minutes later, sneaking out the window same as before, and cutting across courtyards and gardens. The night air smelled sharply of conifer trees and smoke, and cold slithered down my heavy wool sweater no matter how I adjusted the collar.

Cheerful noise came from one of the Hawksbill mansions, fading as I ran past. Gas lamps glowed in swirling patterns all through the district, so I couldn’t linger.

In a quiet area, I threw my grappling hook over the wall separating Hawksbill and the rest of the city, and climbed into Thornton.

I took a different route to the baker’s than the last time, keeping to the streets rather than the roofs. This way, I could avoid the mirrors—at least for now.