Song of Blood & Stone (Earthsinger Chronicles #1)(77)

The young maid standing in Jack’s office sniffled and wrung her hands. “No, Your Grace. I would never let anyone else in Miss Jasminda’s rooms. Never.” Red-rimmed eyes overflowed with tears. “I always saw to her myself, just as Usher asked.”

Jack sighed and paused his pacing. “And you have no idea how anyone would have gotten hold of this?” He pointed to the low table where the blue gown Jasminda wore to the ball a few nights before lay. It had been found, slashed and partially burned, outside the doors to the Prince Regent’s office suite.

“No, Your Grace.” The girl shook her head violently, took another look at the gown, and burst into a fresh round of sobs.

“All right, all right, Nadal,” Jack said, motioning for Usher to comfort her. “I believe you. But you haven’t heard anything from the other servants?”

She leaned into Usher and quieted a bit. “Some of them have been cool toward me since I wouldn’t gossip about Miss Jasminda with them. I haven’t heard anything.”

Jack dropped roughly onto the couch, nervous energy rattling through him. He answered the question in Usher’s gaze with a nod, and the man led Nadal away, returning a few minutes later alone.

“She’s going to hate me,” Jack said as he rubbed his burning eyes, wishing he could rub away the weariness and the heartache. “She has every right to. But she’s in the safest place in the palace. Almost anyone could have sneaked into her rooms. Any person in this palace could mean her harm.”

Usher clucked his tongue, and Jack looked up. “What?”

“You should go to her, young sir.”

“Was she really leaving?” He sank down, every bone in his body feeling twice its weight.

“It appears so.”

Jack groaned, closing the lid on the emotions that threatened to spill out at the thought of Jasminda’s absence. Then a horrifying thought struck him. “Mother often talked of wanting to leave. I would hear them arguing . . . He would never let her . . .” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m just like him, aren’t I? I will never be able to escape the shadow of his cruelty.”

He stood and walked to the terrace doors, looking out at the city stretching before him and beyond, to the endless blue waves. Usher came to stand by him.

“You are nothing like him.”

Jack rested his forehead against the cool glass. Outside, the perfect serenity of the day was so at odds with the whirlwind inside him.

“Then why do I feel like the villain here?”

The buses with the refugees were well on their way toward the border. By this time tomorrow, they would all be back across the mountain. Only the Queen knew what their fates would be, but Jack could guess. He chuckled mirthlessly.

“What have I done, Usher? The woman I love in the dungeons. Allowing the refugees to be sent back. What does this make me?”

“It makes you a prince.”

“And what is that worth when I can’t save anyone?”

The darkness in his heart was in danger of overtaking him. He rubbed his chest as if he could massage the broken organ from the outside. “You’re right. I should go to her. Either she’ll forgive me or she won’t. Besides, I don’t want her staying in the palace any longer than necessary. You’ve gotten in touch with Benn’s wife?”

“Yes, she’s happy to let Jasminda stay with her down in Portside. The family will keep watch for trouble.”

Jack nodded. “All right. She should be safe there while I ferret out whoever’s responsible.” He cast another glance at the ruined dress, and anger beat a rhythm inside his chest. “I can’t fail her, too,” he rasped, nearly choking on the words.

Usher clapped him on the shoulder and squeezed. Some days the only thing keeping him upright was the man’s presence.

He gave Usher a sidelong glance. “How do you stand me, old man?”

“I don’t really have a choice, now do I?” Usher said with a droll smile.




Jack rushed down to the dungeon, feeling even more guilty for keeping Jasminda locked away a moment longer than necessary. As he entered the outer chamber, the guards snapped to attention.

“Captain,” Jack said, acknowledging the guard. “It’s time to let her out.”

The captain’s eyes widened. “L-let her out, Your Grace?”

“Yes, open the cell. I’ll take her with me.”

The captain’s gaze darted to his fellow guard, rigid beside him, then back to Jack. “B-begging your pardon, Your Grace, but she’s already been let out.”

Jack stilled, every muscle in his body tensing in alarm. “I gave explicit orders that the young woman was to be held here until I ordered her released.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Then by whose authority was she released?” Jack roared.

“Yours, Your Grace.” The captain held out a folded letter, stamped with the official seal of the Prince Regent. Jack snatched it from his hands and read the contents, instructions to release Jasminda to the custody of the letter’s bearer.

He motioned for the guard to open the door to the cells, and he strode through, needing to see for himself that Jasminda was really gone. A blanket lay neatly folded on the cot inside an empty cell.