The Orphan Queen (The Orphan Queen #1)(81)

“The Pierces and Indigo Order might not believe me.” I flipped through the pages and found a half-finished drawing of Black Knife. “But I know someone who will.”


Torches burned around the palace walls, pushing back the shadows as dusk fell. The guards had been tripled and soldiers were placed all around the courtyard, gardens, and front drive. Everywhere I looked was evidence of the city lockdown.

Hawksbill was silent. The streetlights blazed, but no laughter drifted up from the mansions. Wind chimes had been torn down so none of their cheer would sound on this dark day. A hush blanketed the whole city in a wraithlike chill.

“Can you do this?” I asked.

Melanie watched the guards below, studying their patterns. Typically, escaping the palace was no problem, but now, with all of the Indigo Order on high alert, I wasn’t so sure.

“I think so.”

Melanie and I stayed on the balcony as the night grew deeper, two distraught women who’d lost yet another king, now seeking something bigger than them for comfort. As cathedral bells tolled, we huddled together in our shawls and simple dresses, the picture of mourning. The guards never looked up.

An hour before midnight, we went back indoors, and Melanie headed into her room to change. I slipped into the black hooded sweater and trousers from the night before.

“Where are you going?” Melanie asked from the doorway.

“I thought I’d check with some of our contacts about the king’s assassination.”

Her lips peeled back in a sneer. “It’s still not our problem.”

“It is if anyone here gets suspicious of us.” In which case, both of us leaving tonight wasn’t a good idea. Neither of us should leave. But I needed to know if Patrick had assassinated the king, and I wanted to hear Black Knife’s thoughts. “Lady Chey is having the scribes and records-keepers look over our papers. We’re already under scrutiny.”

Melanie hissed. “They won’t catch us. Your documents were flawless. We’ll be out of here before it’s an issue.”

I couldn’t go to Aecor until I’d figured out what I’d done to the wraith, but I wasn’t ready to tell her that truth yet.

“Be careful,” I said.

“Say it again.” She opened the balcony door and descended into the frigid night.

I watched her go, tracking her movements as she slipped from shadow to shadow, avoiding all the guards as they marched through the courtyard. When she was out of my sight, I armed myself with daggers and Black Knife’s gifts, and slipped out on my own.

Pressing myself into the deepest shadows I could find, I eased from balcony to rooftop to the ground, keeping my breaths long and deep and silent.

A cold wind kicked up, bringing droplets of water and a sharp wraithy scent, but I suppressed the urge to gag and crept along a hedge until I reached a walled garden near a mansion boasting the House of the Sun crest. From there, I took the most deserted paths possible, hyperalert of every sound and scent.

It took twice as long to reach the Hawksbill wall, and even more time to find a place to scale it. But I managed, and stole into Thornton as quickly and quietly as I could. There were extra patrols here, as well, but there were also more places to hide.

I ran a long route to the breezeway where Black Knife had taken me last night, but I found it and the trapdoor without trouble, and climbed in.

He wasn’t here.

The Hawksbill clock tower chimed the second hour. Black Knife hadn’t specified a time, so I curled myself into a corner and waited, letting my eyes drift shut for a minute. The taps of light rain against the glass lulled my thoughts. I hadn’t slept last night, except for an hour or two when I got back to my room, and the day had been too busy to rest.

I shivered awake when the clock tower struck five. Black Knife hadn’t come. He’d asked me to meet him, and then hadn’t come.

Then again, everything had changed. Who knew what else he’d had to do, especially if he was part of one of the noble houses.

Dawn was still hours away, but I needed to hurry back if I wanted to avoid the new security.

Yawning, I let myself out of the trapdoor and hurried through the market district streets. My mind was foggy with sleep, but the icy air and run helped. The light rain stopped as I crossed the wall, more quickly this time, so I peeled off the mask and began fitting myself into the shadows of mansions and fountains and anything else I could find.

Footsteps approached from behind. I ducked toward a tall statue, but it was too late; I was too slow.

“Julianna Whitman?” A man wearing the Indigo Order uniform brandished his sword. “Please come with me. You’re under arrest for impersonation of Liadian nobility and under suspicion of assassinating King Terrell.”





THIRTY


THIS WAS EXACTLY why I’d warned Melanie to be careful.

And here I was.

“Just come with me,” said the guard. His gaze flickered down as I rested my hands on my dagger hilts. “This will be much easier if you don’t resist.”

Easier for him.

I set my jaw and drew my daggers. Steel glinted in the light of gas lamps hissing all around us. Cold wind gusted. Conifers rustled.

“Just come with me,” he said again, voice low and wary.

I ducked to his right side—so he’d have to swing backward to hit me—and attacked. He staggered and shifted his sword to block my blades at the last second. The clash of steel threw me off balance, but I corrected and struck out with my blades again.