Of Whispers and Daggers ✓ [TLRQ #2]

Chapter 20.1 - Idyne

The light of the pyre throws fiery shadows across the alcove I stand in. Other low-tier Ladies stand with me, faces illuminated from below with reddish light. It plays over their maroon dresses, blending and then twisting with morose beauty. These women can haunt this place all they want, though. I've done my due diligence; there's a different dead person I'm more concerned with.

I slip out, the Ladies murmuring behind me about the coming coronation. I don't need to watch the overconfident Princesse get a new name and a crown stuck on her head. I wasn't expecting her mother to die so quickly, so I'm glad I started the potion yesterday night. It only finished this morning.

I stride quietly down empty halls, emptier than usual. Everyone is morbidly busy watching the Morineause desecrate their Queen. I snag the potion and amulet from my room and stroll down to the first floor.

"Off, off, off we go," the voices sing-song, "to kill a man we'll never know."

"Hush," I murmur. "A prisoner here is destined to die anyway." Doing so early is a small price for them to pay to rid the world of shamans.

Elation sweeps me, dangerous, thrilling, terrible elation. They'll all be dead within the month.

The whole castle is distracted. No one's going to notice a prisoner missing right now. I start down the stairs to the dungeon. In the silence, I tap the back of my nail against the wall as I descend, mimicking the sound of the heeled shoes I don't have clacking against the steps.

As I round the final turn, the antechamber opens up in front of me. A thick door rests on the opposite wall, a desk and empty chair off to its side. A young man stands straight-backed in front of the door, a dark blue cloak hanging from his shoulders and concealing his hands.

His brow furrows on seeing me. "I don't think you're supposed to be down here, Lady."

"Mage Adelle," I say, winking. "I'm allowed down here." Cool confidence gets a person far, I remind myself.

The voices whisper, "Then why are you shaking?"

"Huh. Where's your cloak, Mage? Standing order is for us to wear it when on duty." He stands solid and still as a guard dog.

I take the final stair down, and his expression rearranges to clearly inform me that I should move no closer. An arrogant smile tilts my lips. "It tends to clash with my clothes." I gesture at myself, then sober as he frowns. "But, really, I'm not on duty right now. I came to bring you some bad news and a drink"—I lift the small bottle—"to hopefully help cheer. Doesn't seem right that the folks in guard positions don't get apprised of the news."

His eyebrow raises at the potion. "Doesn't look like the bottle of any strong drink I've ever seen."

I make a disapproving face. "You want me to bring you strong drink while you're on duty? Tsk." I move forward again, and this time he doesn't stop me. I pass it to him. "It's cider."