Page 26

“You went riding,” I stated flatly. “How very thrilling.”

“Precisely.” She beamed. “Nothing clears the mind like a gallop through the forests.”

“Uh-huh.”

We fell into step together, Lennox trailing behind us like a particularly grim shadow.

The palace corridors seemed brighter somehow, sunlight streaming through the tall windows and casting golden patterns across the marble floor.

I found myself squinting slightly, my eyes still adjusting after the murky darkness of the dungeons.

Rosalind nudged my shoulder playfully. “Why the long face? You look positively miserable.”

“Like what?” I asked, attempting innocence.

“Like someone stole your favorite toy and cut it into tiny little pieces right in front of you.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What have you been up to?”

I certainly wasn’t about to mention my little prison visit. The last thing I needed was another person telling me how reckless I was. “Nothing at all,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Just wondering why my one and only friend didn’t bother to visit while I was recovering from near-death.”

Rosalind scoffed. “Don’t blame me! Blame your princeling. I tried to visit, but he was guarding your door like a rabid wolf.”

Was he, now?

My ears heated up instantly. He had that effect on me these days. “Anderic is not mine ,” I emphasized the last word perhaps a bit too forcefully.

A slow, knowing smile spread across Rosalind’s face. “Interesting. I don’t recall mentioning Prince Anderic.”

“Oh, please.” I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly strained something. “How many princes does our kingdom have?”

Rosalind’s eyes went comically wide as she struggled to suppress a smile. “Hmm,” she hummed, tapping her chin. “Let me think…”

I couldn’t help it—a reluctant smile tugged at my lips.

“See?” Rosalind said triumphantly. “It’s not that difficult to make you smile. Just mention the prince’s name and you light up like a Yule candle.”

“I do not!” But my protest lacked conviction, and we both dissolved into laughter.

“But seriously,” Rosalind continued as our giggles subsided, “I went to see you quite a few times. His Royal Overprotectiveness wouldn’t let anyone near you. Not even me.”

“Really?” I asked cautiously, trying not to sound too interested but failing miserably.

Rosalind rolled her eyes. “Yes, really. I haven’t been in the capital for long, but even I remember the look on his face when your maid brought the news that night.

” She lowered her voice, glancing back at Lennox.

“Your maid must be traumatized. And that elite guard who was assigned to shadow you? Anderic nearly killed him on the spot. Lennox here had to physically intervene.” She smirked.

“Poor lad is still cleaning horse dung in the royal stables.”

I listened quietly as Rosalind continued her tale, a treacherous warmth spreading through my chest. My mind drifted to Anderic’s face when he burst into that cell—the raw fury in his eyes, the desperate relief when he found me alive. Could it be that he actually…

Then why doesn’t he say anything?

My mind was about to investigate Anderic’s behavior when Rosalind’s voice snapped me back to reality.

“So,” she asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “you’re coming to the ball next week, right?”

“Yes,” I answered, watching sunlight dance across the polished marble floor. The corridor’s vaulted ceiling made even our hushed conversation echo slightly.

“And who might be escorting you to this grand event?” She leaned closer, her perfume—something floral mixed with leather and fresh air—wafting between us.

I snorted. “Myself. I’m perfectly capable of walking through a doorway unassisted.”

“Not with the princeling?” Rosalind wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “One more word about Anderic, and I’ll tell everyone about that time you tripped and fell face-first into that mud puddle trying to sneak a look at Noah last year.”

Rosalind put her hands up in surrender, laughing. “Merciful heavens, please spare me the humiliation.”

I forced a smirk, but as the laughter faded, a small, unwelcome thought crept in. It wasn’t as if I wanted him to, but still… Anderic hadn’t even asked. Not that I expected him to, of course. But the fact that he hadn’t—well, it stung more than I cared to admit.

The corridor opened into an atrium, the waning sunlight casting long shadows across the stone floor. I guided us toward a stone bench nestled between two potted orange trees. My legs still felt wobbly from my extended bed rest, though I’d rather eat glass than admit it.

“Enough about my non-existent love life,” I said, settling onto the bench. Lennox was somewhere close by, but I couldn’t see him. “Why are you practically floating today? I haven’t seen you this cheerful since… well, a long time.”

Her face lit up with such joy that, for a moment, I envied her capacity for uncomplicated happiness. “My father is being released! He’s been absolved of all charges!”

I froze, my blood turning to ice water in my veins. My heart plummeted to my stomach so fast I thought I might be sick. “What?”

“They’re releasing him,” she repeated, seemingly oblivious to my horror. “Today!”

“How?” I managed, my mouth suddenly dry as parchment. “I mean… what did I miss? Did they find new evidence?”

Rosalind tilted her head. “Anderic didn’t tell you?” Her expression softened. “Though I suppose you were on bed rest, so it makes sense he wouldn’t want to burden you with matters of state.”

Matters of state. Right. More like matters that could destroy my entire family.

“When they went back to the Red Cross hideout with more soldiers, they found it mostly abandoned,” she continued, practically vibrating with excitement.

“But in their haste to flee, the gang left behind some ledgers. Detailed records of all their dealings.” She clasped her hands together.

“They found two entries about people hiring them to frame my father!”

Each word was another nail in my coffin. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, drowning out the ambient sounds of the palace. I felt dizzy. My worst fear was materializing right before my eyes.

“Who?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “Who hired them?”

“That’s the frustrating part,” Rosalind sighed. “No names were written down. Even the Red Cross wouldn’t be that careless.”

I exhaled slowly, relief washing over me. My father was safe—for now.

“Wait, you said… two entries?” I remembered suddenly, my brain finally catching up.

Rosalind’s smile turned almost predatory, a glint of something dangerous flashing in her eyes. “Yes. Apparently, my father had more enemies than we thought.”

I stared at her, realization dawning like a cold sunrise. My assumption was right. How many people had Magnus Bellrose angered in his time at the Ministry of Revenue? And more importantly—if my father wasn’t the only one plotting against Magnus…

Who else wanted that man dead?