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Blood drains from my face, and I dig my nails into Tomas’ knee.

“That won’t be necessary,” he says. “We’ve come to ask about Emblen. She went missing, didn’t she?”

The woman frowns and shakes her head. “Yes. It’s very good of you to care. I didn’t think anyone would, but then some people did come asking after her, trying to find out what happened.”

The urge to storm out of here is a physical force pushing me away, and I tense my entire body to resist it. The effort keeps my jaw clenched, so I won’t be adding anything to this conversation, but it’s safer this way. If I open my mouth, there’s no telling what I’ll say.

“Who was it that came asking?” That he can sit here conversing while I’m considering ways to kill him is rather impressive. How many women in this establishment are familiar with him?

“Some people from the capital. Wouldn’t think anyone in Mirador would care for the likes of Emblen, but they did come asking.”

“Of course they care.” I unlock my lips to at least say that much. “The Queen cares for all of her subjects.” Even if those people weren’t ours.

“Yes, sweet thing, you keep on believing that.”

I don’t want to embarrass the woman, but I have half a mind to inform her that she’s patronizing the Princess.

“It’s true,” Tomas says. “Queen Elea is a good and caring ruler, but you’ll recall she has an entire kingdom to look after. I’m sure you can excuse her not knowing the name of every person in Alchos.”

She bows her head, perhaps remembering she’s speaking to the heir of a high house. “Of course. And I suppose it shows by sending people out here about the incidents.”

“That and more. She’s sent her sons and daughters as well. They travelled here with me.”

Her face stretches into an impressed expression. “Imagine that. Shall I expect to see the princes about these parts at night?”

“I believe it’s the elder princess who’s the wild one in the bunch.” A hardened ball of air hurls into Tomas’ stomach. He only hunches slightly and tenses to steady himself.

The woman cackles. “Right! The Angel of Alchos will be in the debauchery of this neighborhood. You’re too much, Lord Tomas.”

His answering smile is tight, possibly due to the injury he recently sustained. “Did the investigators ask about an old woman who had passed through town?”

“Yes, but I told them I didn’t know of any such person. They did ask for a description of the last client Emblen had before she disappeared.”

“I’ll take that as well, please.”

She provides it and a description of the investigators, royal crests on their uniforms and all. I manage to keep up appearances until we leave then hurry away as Tomas thanks the woman and closes the door. When he catches up to me, he says, “That hit was completely un—”

I throw a soundproof wall around him.

He stops in his tracks, but I keep walking. He catches up to me again—walks alongside me speaking very animatedly, but alas… “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.” I point to my ear and shrug. No doubt plenty of what he’s saying is completely inappropriate to say to any lady, much less a princess, so it’s probably for the best.

We continue this way the entire walk to the castle. How he has this much to say, I have no idea. But from the corner of my eye, I see he manages to talk the entire time. The guards look at each other with furrowed brows as they let us in and Tomas remains silent despite his actions.

“He’s fine,” I assure them. I take the express option to my rooms, flying up to my balcony before evaporating the bubble I kept Tomas in. He’s loud enough for me to just hear him start to shout before I slam the door shut.

Chapter eighteen

My room at Lambridge Castle is terribly crowded. Three grumpy royals speak over each other, which is helpful, as I’m unconcerned with anything they’re talking about. This way I have a valid reason not to know what they say. Rylan seems to wish I’d brought him along with me, while Nina thinks we’re both wretched to try to wriggle our way into people’s affection this way. Marcus agrees with Nina— of course.

I lean my head on my hand and sip wine. The wine is good but not quite worth the alarm bells it set off about my return. It was when I rang for wine that my siblings discovered I was back and descended upon me like a pack of angry wolves.

“Well, I suppose everyone thinks Arabella is the sweetest person in the royal family now.” Nina’s snide smile slides right by me—I can’t be bothered.

“Actually, I didn’t tell anyone who I was.”

Marcus arches an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Well,”—I take another sip—“I told a little boy. Nina, he might be interested in marrying you.”