Seraphina(45)

Sir Cuthberte snorted. “Who could have? Pender and Foughfaugh? That would have been over in seconds.”

Sir Karal glared venom at Sir Cuthberte. “I tire of this. Where’s Captain Kiggs?”

“Good question,” I said, rising and dusting off my skirts. “I’ll look for him. Thank you for your time, gentle knights.”

Sir Karal rose and bowed. Sir Cuthberte said, “What? No kiss?”

I blew him a kiss, laughing, and left.

Outside, the guards seemed surprised to see me. “Captain Kiggs still hasn’t arrived, Maid Dombegh,” said John, pushing back his helmet.

I smiled, merry with relief that this was over and I’d gotten away with it. I would return to my rooms, contact Orma on the kitten spinet, and see whether he could identify his father from the perforation. “Captain Kiggs must have been detained. No matter—I’m finished here. I’ll go see whether I can find him.”

“You won’t have far to go,” said a voice from halfway up the stairs.

Prince Lucian descended the stairs, and my heart descended into my stomach.





I dared not let my eyes widen in horror or the guards would be on to me; to buy myself some time, I curtsied deeply, to a slow count of three.

The prince, when I finally dared to look at him again, seemed amused. He gestured broadly. “You are finished here, one hopes?”

“Yes, thank you,” I said, managing to keep any tremor out of my voice. “If you wish to question the knights yourself, perhaps I can meet you tomorrow morning—”

“Oh no,” he said lightly, his smile hardening. “I rather think you’re meeting with me now. Wait for me upstairs, if you would be so kind.”

I had no option but to climb the stairs. Behind me, the prince said, “Who remembers what my token looks like? Right. And did Maid Dombegh bear my token?”

“But, sir, we weren’t to start that protocol until Comonot arrives!”

“We’re starting it tonight. Only someone with my token speaks in my name.”

“Were we wrong to let her down here, Captain?” said John.

Lucian Kiggs paused before answering: “No. You followed your instincts about her, and they did not lead you astray. But it’s time to tighten things up, hm? The palace will be full of strangers soon.”

He started up the stairs; I hurried to reach the top before he did. The look he gave me when he reached the top was less amused. He acknowledged Mikey the Fish’s salute, grabbed me by the right elbow, and marched me up the corridor.

“Who are you working for?” he asked when we were out of earshot.

Was this a trick question? “Viridius.”

He stopped and faced me, his brows pulled together darkly. “This is your chance to tell the truth. I dislike games of cat and mouse. You’re caught; don’t toy with me.”

Sweet Heavenly Home, he thought I was some sort of agent for a foreign government, perhaps—or for some individual. A dragon, say. Maybe he wasn’t wrong. “Could we talk somewhere besides the hallway, please?”


He glanced up and down the passage, frowning. The east wing was full of servants and storage, kitchens and workshops. He led me up a short hallway and unlocked the heavy door at the end with a key. He lit a lantern at the hall sconce, ushered me through the door, and closed it behind us. We were at the bottom of a spiral stair leading up into blackness. Instead of climbing the stairs, however, he seated himself about five steps up and set the lantern beside him.

“What is this place?” I said, craning my neck to peer upward.

“My ‘beastly tower,’ Glisselda calls it.” He seemed disinclined to discuss it further. The lantern lit him eerily from below, making it difficult to interpret his expression; he wasn’t smiling, in any case. “It would have been easy enough to interview the knights with my blessing. You had only to ask. I dislike your invoking my name under false pretenses.”

“I—I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry,” I stammered. Why had it seemed like a good idea? Why was I more prepared to bluff complete strangers than to speak plainly to this prince? I opened my purse cautiously, blocking any glimpse of the quig figurine, and passed the gold coin to the prince. “My teacher, Orma, also has a concern regarding a possible rogue dragon. I promised him I’d speak to you.”

Lucian Kiggs silently examined the coin in the lantern light. He’d been so chatty before; his silence unnerved me. But of course he was doubtful when I claimed to speak on someone else’s behalf. How could he not be? Saints’ dogs, I’d miscalculated in bluffing his guards.

“A messenger gave him that coin after your uncle’s funeral,” I pressed on. “Orma claims it belonged to his father.”

“Then it probably did,” he said, studying the back. “Dragons know their coins.”

“His father is General Imlann, disgraced and banished for hoarding.”

“Hoarding doesn’t usually merit banishment,” said the prince, his mouth set in a line. Even his looming shadow seemed skeptical.

“Imlann committed other crimes too, I believe. Orma didn’t lay it all out in detail.” Here I was, already lying. It never ended. “He believes Imlann is here, in Goredd, and may be planning some harm to the Ardmagar or mischief to the celebrations or … he doesn’t know what. It’s all vague supposition, alas.”