Page 66 of Contested Crown

After dinner, Cade and I lingered in the cafeteria, watching the flow of people. I noticed that at breakfast and lunch, initiates were allowed to eat in the cafeteria. But at dinner, none of them were there.

Our guard was sitting with us at the table, glaring at his meal, clearly unhappy at being roped into nannying the prince and his consort.

“Where are all the initiates?” I asked, like our afternoon nanny hadn’t let something slip already.

“They eat by themselves,” he said shortly, his knife dragging across the plate loudly.

“They have their own dining room in the bunkhouse?” I raised my eyebrows. I had seen the building, and based on the number of people that lived in it, unless there was some magic involved, there wasn’t room for anything except beds and bathrooms.

Narrowing his eyes, our guard said, “Yes.”

I shrugged. “If you say so. Seems to me it’s more like a prison. Are those cells or dorms?”

“If you were anything more than a dog, you might get permission to know.” The guard glared at me.

I raised both my eyebrows, exaggeratedly putting up my hands. “Do we have a problem I don’t know about?”

“Dogs can’t beat mages. I don’t know how you did it, but I’m going to find out. Whatever you did to my friends, you’re going to pay for it.” His glare turned into a sneer, and I had dealt with men like him since my entire pack had been killed.

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. “Very scary. I’m shaking in my boots.”

The guard leaned forward, and magic crept across the table, complicated lines of tattoo etching themselves into the wood.

Footsteps snapped loudly across the room, and I wasn’t at all surprised when Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Wilson. You’re relieved.”

Angrily, our guard pushed himself away from the table, jerking his chin at me before stalking out of the cafeteria.

“Was it something I said?” I turned to her, but her expression was just as dark and stormy as usual.

“Prince Bartlett, please make sure your consort doesn’t antagonize any of the members of this household who have generously taken the time to play tour guide for you,” Elizabeth said formally, ignoring me entirely.

Cade looked up from his salad. “Miles can fight his own battles, and I don’t tell him what to do. If I did, I have a feeling he would start trying to tellmewhat to do, and I don’t like taking directions.”

“What happened to those two mages I fought?” Our guard had left the cafeteria, but I noticed a series of dirty looks sent my way in his wake.

“They received remedial training,” Elizabeth said shortly. “It’s an in-house matter, nothing for you to be concerned about.”

She nodded crisply, then walked away, returning to her table at the edge of the room. For a moment, we were guard-free. I didn’t trust that they weren’t still listening to us, but I did glance significantly at Cade.

He shook his head. We couldn’t get away now. There were still too many eyes on us.

So we waited, went back to our room like normal, made noises as though we were getting ready for bed without actually changing into our pajamas, shut off the lights, and waited.

I listened, and the house grew quieter. Conversation went from a dull background noise to silence. Footsteps in the corridor disappeared.

Close to midnight, I tightened my arm around Cade’s waist, checking to see if he was ready. He tapped my hand twice, then drew a circle around the back of it. For a moment, I was puzzled.

Then, dark tattoos enveloped us, and for the first time in weeks, Cade transported us.

ChapterTwenty-Two

We ended up in the cafeteria, lying on the cool wooden floor. Quietly, we both got to our feet. We were dressed for subtlety in dark colors that would match the shadows.

Cade looked at me significantly, tapping his nose, and I nodded once in agreement. Taking a deep breath, I inhaled all the different scents from the day. All the different people that lingered in the air and on the furniture.

We walked downstairs, finding the common rooms empty. I scented again, searching for something unusual, some hint of where House Morrison was hiding its secrets.

As we approached the back of the house, where I had assumed the servants worked, I smelled it. Terror.