The Orphan Queen (The Orphan Queen #1)(47)
He started down the road. “That sounds fair.”
As the thunder of police boots joined the thunder in the sky, Black Knife and I ran deeper into the Flags, disappearing into the shadows. We fought thieves and thugs, gangs and glowmen. We didn’t speak, but there was nothing to say, not when there was so much work to do.
When the storm passed and dawn touched the eastern horizon, I offered back the mask.
“Keep it.” His tone warmed, even as howls and animal cries rose from within the city: wraith beasts, blown in with the storm. “You might need it again.”
SIXTEEN
MORNING MADE MY head pound. My body ached from last night’s adrenaline and grief, but I hauled myself up to sit on the edge of my bed, listening to Melanie move around the apartments. After a few minutes, she left.
The clock tower chimed ten as I dragged myself from my room, feet shuffling on the floor. Breakfast was already on the table, Melanie’s half eaten. A note rested by the empty plate, as well as a small pile of invitation cards with today’s date. In spite of last night, Melanie had organized my engagements.
I poured myself a cup of over-steeped tea and sat, letting the bitter black taste work its miracles while I eyed the note in her tidy handwriting. No flourishes, except the first letter of each paragraph, and her pen strokes were always dark and even. Her handwriting was just like her: familiar, safe, and reliable.
At least until lately.
J—
I received an invitation to take a walk about the palace gardens and a tour of the greenhouse. You know how much I enjoy horticulture.
You were invited as well, of course, but I thought you might want to accept the one from Lady Meredith instead. She, Lady Chey, and several others are meeting in the ladies’ solar for needlework.
Perhaps I will see you over lunch.
M—
I flipped through the invitation cards. Indeed, there was the one from Meredith.
Quickly, I ate the rest of my breakfast, dressed, and arranged my hair in a long, simple braid—since the person who was supposed to help me with making myself look presentable had already left.
With times and locations of other engagements in mind, I headed to the ladies’ solar where the women had met before.
When I arrived, the solar was already filled with women, most of whom I’d seen last time. Meredith was busy with her needlepoint again, and Chey sat at her right, knitting in hand. A chair on the other side of the duchess held the spindle and wool I’d neglected before. Wonderful. They hadn’t forgotten.
Both women smiled brightly as I entered, and Meredith patted the chair beside her. “Welcome, Julianna! We’re happy you could join us.”
I took my seat and listened to the women discuss their projects—how they’d sew pieces together or make other objects from them. Meredith was turned toward Chey, and the others all paid careful attention to their conversation.
“There’s a rumor that last night’s storm blew in several wraith creatures.” The girl who’d spoken was one of Meredith’s ladies, young and flighty sounding. “They say Black Knife was out killing them all night.”
I lowered my eyes to inspect the carded wool.
“That’s not his duty and you know it.” Meredith shook her head. “He’ll be arrested if he’s ever caught.”
“He’s a ghost,” said the girl. “The police can’t catch a ghost.”
“He’s real.” A lady named Margot lowered her needlepoint and leaned forward. “I think Lord Daniel is Black Knife.”
Chey’s tone went teasing. “Weren’t you with Lord Daniel last night?”
Margot blushed, and suddenly I recognized her from Meredith and Tobiah’s engagement ball; the prince had said some people—like Lord Daniel—enjoyed saying they were Black Knife, even though everyone knew better.
“And did he leave you to kill monsters?” Chey asked.
“Well, he did leave once to fetch more wine.” Margot tittered and returned to her needlepoint. “He does have the best stories about defeating the monsters and glowmen.”
“Because they’re made-up stories.” Meredith shook her head. “No, the real Black Knife is no one as innocent as your Lord Daniel. What sort of man disguises himself and becomes a vigilante? One who wouldn’t make nearly as charming a bedfellow as Daniel, no doubt.”
“They say Black Knife will put an end to the wraith. I’ve heard that priests all through the Flags are making prophecies about him!”
Another rolled her eyes. “They’re Flag priests.”
“Indeed.” Chey held herself straight. “When the palace chapel priests start having prophecies—or anyone from the Cathedral of the Solemn Hour—then you may entertain the idea. But ignore anything that comes from the Flags.”
“What about the belief that Crown Prince Tobiah will stop it?” Someone snickered, and everyone looked at Meredith.
“If he does,” Meredith said, “it will be because he works hard. Not because of a silly story about a king from all four houses.”
“What story is this?” I asked. “I don’t believe I’ve heard anything about His Highness being the one to stop the wraith.”
“Oh, it’s just a story some of the commoners made up.” Meredith shook her head and flashed a smile. “You know about the four Houses, right? It’s more to do with where you were born than who your family is—though families do tend to stick to the location, if they own property.”