Page 11

Adelaide

A delaide stared at the ceiling. Her mind raced. No matter how snugly she tucked the blankets against herself, she couldn’t stop the icy shiver that trailed over her body. Jeffery had almost gotten her caught alongside him.

By the time she’d made it back to the servants’ quarters, news had already reached them of the intruder on the estate thanks to the stable hand, Jacob. It didn’t take them long to figure out that Adelaide was the one who’d been grabbed before the archduke and his guards had found them, and pursued the attacker. From that moment on, Adelaide had to battle a flurry of concern and stamp out their anger.

Cathy’s words kept spinning around in her mind.

“The archduke will make certain he won’t walk free. Just you watch, Addie.”

Adelaide was already certain of it, and her certainty offered no comfort. For once, absolute surety posed a grave problem that made anxiety buzz and flitter through her bloodstream.

What if Jeffery named her? What if he told the archduke and Sir Maxwell everything, about Mistress Scrabs, the Den of Thieves, and her part in the thefts?

The anxiety buzzing in her blood reached a crescendo. Adelaide didn’t know if she was actually shaking or if it was merely her fear vibrating against her bones. This could be her only chance to steal the Eye of Behelwer.

Fighting against her every instinct to hurry before she lost her nerve, Adelaide carefully slipped from her bed. She kept one eye on Cathy as she made her way to the door. If she could just make it out of the room and up to the third floor without being caught, Adelaide would be one step closer to securing her safety from Mistress Scrabs. And if she succeeded in stealing the Eye of Behelwer tonight, she could leave Castle Belmont without entangling herself any further into the lives of all who lived here—especially the archduke’s.

Adelaide chewed the inside of her cheek. But was that what she really wanted? Did she truly wish to leave this behind? The security of Castle Belmont, and the sense of safety she felt around Archduke Hughes?

Adelaide inhaled deeply through her nose. Staying here wouldn’t do her any good. Mistress Scrabs had already sent one enforcer after her. No one, not even the White Hawk of Kordouva, could protect her from the Master of Thieves.

Her stomach twisted at the realization. She had no choice. She never had.

Adelaide stepped out into the hall and closed the bedroom door behind her. Looking both ways, she headed toward the main parts of the estate.

Her throat tightened with every step. The assumption that the archduke and Sir Maxwell would both be preoccupied with questioning Jeffery couldn’t ease her mind. Not even the vain hope that all of the other guards charged with protecting the Belmont estate would be too distracted to notice her breaking into the hidden room on the third floor. But if Jeffery had already named her as an accomplice…

Adelaide froze. If she was caught now, she’d never be able to deny his accusations. If he’d already told the archduke and Sir Maxwell, and they went looking for her and couldn’t find her where she should be, Adelaide would never be free again.

And then her mother wouldn’t receive her treatments, and everything she had done would have been for nothing.

And she would still be indebted to Mistress Scrabs.

She’d already witnessed such cases of other assets who’d found themselves at the mercy of Mistress Scrabs’s damnation. Adelaide couldn’t afford to get caught.

Worst of all, Adelaide didn’t want to imagine what would happen when the archduke realized who she was and why she’d come to his estate. She didn’t want to learn if there was any truth to the rumors whispered about him and his time on the battlefield. He’d been so kind to her, and she’d lied to him, to all of them. Adelaide swallowed. It was just that. She relished his kindness.

Letting her head fall back, Adelaide closed her eyes. She couldn’t believe that she had to let this opportunity go. It would be safer if she did, even though she sincerely doubted another distraction would pull Archduke Hughes’s attention away like this again.

The only other thing that could possibly draw his attention away would be a summons from the king. But that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon. Kordouva was at peace, and Penumbra was at rest. Darshovi didn’t have the strength to raise its hand against the kingdom without the eclipse to bolster them, and she doubted very much Penumbra had the strength or inclination to bargain with them again.

Watching her feet, Adelaide forced herself back to bed. She’d simply have to wait. That was her best chance. She’d also need to get some sleep tonight because she’d have to wake early in the morning if she intended to send word to Mistress Scrabs about what had happened. She’d also need her wits about her for when she met with the archduke.

Adelaide drew the covers up to her chin.

What lie could she possibly tell him that he would believe? Or was it better to keep things simple and wait to see what it was that he knew about the incident first? Adelaide turned on her side, staring at the wall. Her heart twisted. She didn’t want to lie. The archduke had proven himself to be the farthest thing from the image she had of him in her mind. He listened, and he seemed to care in spite of how stiffly he acted. Archduke Gavin Hughes was nothing like the rumors made him out to be, and certainly nothing like the other heads of state she’d worked for under the direction of Mistress Scrabs.

Gavin Hughes didn’t deserve to be deceived. Adelaide curled up and tucked her arms close to her chest. But would he understand the truth? Could he help her? Would he help her?

After all she’d done, Adelaide didn’t think she deserved it. She was only grateful she had the ability to help her mother. That was going to have to be enough to soothe her heart.

By the time the pale morning light filtered through the window, Adelaide was as lost as when she’d returned to her bed. There wasn’t any space for relief in her heart that the archduke and Sir Maxwell hadn’t come for her last night—that Jeffery hadn’t exposed her role as the Den’s thief…yet. Adelaide was too consumed with what lay ahead of her. Between her meeting with the archduke and needing to send word to Mistress Scrabs without being caught, Adelaide found herself wishing Jeffery had revealed her as the Den’s thief. It certainly would’ve eased her conscience. Now she had to develop a lie and hoped that whatever she said aligned with what Jeffery might’ve confessed.

Adelaide rubbed her eyes. It was much too early for any of this, especially after the night she’d had. She couldn’t meet the archduke with a cloudy mind. She had no choice in the matter, and would have to make do with patience and what little part of the truth she could tell. That was the only way she thought she’d be able to guarantee her safety.

But first, she’d have to send word to Mistress Scrabs. As she dressed quickly, Adelaide hoped she’d be able to sneak off of the estate before the bulk of Castle Belmont’s inhabitants rose.

Adelaide spared a glance over her shoulder as she pushed the door open. The tavern’s windows were still dark, but she knew without a fraction of doubt in her mind that Dylan was there. Dylan was always there. The Hawk & Thorne Tavern was his station, and one of many of Mistress Scrabs’s depots.

Information, artifacts, money, people, whatever she found to be of use to her operation, Mistress Scrabs made certain it was available to her. The Den of Thieves was the quickest way to relay Adelaide’s message to her, and ensure it wasn’t intercepted.

Stepping over the threshold, Adelaide swallowed. The door swung shut with a thump and the jingling of the bell. The odor of stale alcohol and an old fish dinner turned her already knotted stomach. Quick footsteps pounded down the stairs.

“We’re closed to—” Dylan came to a stop on the stairs, his head nearly even with the overhang of the second floor. His eyes sparked when he realized it was only her. Slowly, he finished his descent and closed the gap between them. “Oh good, you’ve saved me the trouble of fetching you. The Master of Thieves wanted to see you.”

“Mistress Scrabs is here?” Adelaide’s hand froze over the bow keeping her cloak around her shoulders.

“Best not to keep her waiting, Adelaide.” Dylan’s eyes roved over her skeptically. “What did you come here for anyway?”

Adelaide blinked in an attempt to recover her wits. “I had a message for the Master. Jeffery has been detained by the archduke.”

“We’re aware.” Dylan frowned. “I can’t say I’m personally upset by the news, but…”

Adelaide took a breath. “Mistress Scrabs is.”

Dylan nodded. “Good luck, Adelaide. She’s in my office.”

Adelaide nodded.

Wordlessly, she crossed the spacious room, weaving between tables as she did, if only to delay the inevitable rather than taking the clear path in front of the counter. Taking a breath, Adelaide placed one foot in front of the other until she’d mounted the stairs and could go no farther. It took all of her willpower to ignore the tremble in the tips of her fingers. She refused to show Mistress Scrabs her fear.

Adelaide glanced either way down the hall as she crested the staircase. The corridor was long and lined with closed doors. Only one way had a door at the end of the hall. The other had a window with lacey curtains parted to the side, exposing the gray dawn. Adelaide turned left and kept a steady pace to calm her nerves.

A firm voice met her knock.

Mistress Scrabs stood with her back to the door. Adelaide squinted against the light that outlined the Master of Thieves, wishing she wasn’t staring directly into the sunrise.

“You’ve been difficult to get a hold of, dear Addie.” Mistress Scrabs turned, her half mask gleaming in the sunlight, and gracefully sat in the chair at Dylan’s battered wooden desk, crossing her legs one over the other. Placing her hands over her stomach, the Master of Thieves sat back. Her smugness made the shabby office feel like something more, like it was her own office back at the Den of Thieves with its ornately carved trim and richly stained desk. “And now I’m to learn of poor Jeffery’s capture from an urchin instead of you. How can you explain yourself, Addie?”

Adelaide tried to smooth the ruffles in her mood, irked by the use of a nickname reserved for those closest to her—or at the very least, those who were kind to her. Instead, she offered the note she had written during the restless hours when sleep had eluded her. “I came to deliver this message to you, explaining that Jeffery had been captured by Archduke Hughes’s men and—”

“I’m well aware of that fact ,” Mistress Scrabs spat, her voice full of venom. Closing her eyes, the Master of Thieves took a deep breath to compose herself. Adelaide pressed her lips together. In appearance, Mistress Scrabs wasn’t formidable. But her mind, her words, her quiet cunning, that’s what made her so dangerous. Adelaide needed to tread carefully, but it seemed as though the Master of Thieves had already condemned her. Even though the tension in her voice had dulled, Mistress Scrabs’s words weren’t any less accusatory. Her glare glinted like a knife’s edge. “What I want to know is why? How? If you hadn’t been so elusive and worried me so, Jeffery wouldn’t have been caught, now would he?”

“I had every intention of reporting to you as agreed, but… Castle Belmont is too guarded. I’ve located a place where the Eye might be held, but haven’t been able to confirm its whereabouts. I was hoping to find out before I had to deliver my update,” Adelaide explained, vainly attempting to keep the annoyance from her own voice. As an afterthought, she added, “My Lady.”

Mistress Scrabs clicked her tongue. Uncrossing her legs, she placed her clasped hands on the desk and leaned forward. “Are you insinuating that Jeffery’s capture is my fault?”

“No, My Lady,” Adelaide said, “I only meant to explain my tardiness.”

“For such a smart young woman,” Mistress Scrabs started, standing slowly, “you can’t seem to remember your place.”

Adelaide followed Mistress Scrabs with her eyes. Her skin tingled with a phantom pain, a reminder of what the woman before her was capable of. Mistress Scrabs came to a stop in front of her and smiled dangerously. Reaching a hand up, Adelaide flinched. Mistress Scrabs’s quiet tone was too sweet, a false impersonation of endearment. “As it is, I can’t let this go unpunished.”

Before Adelaide could take a step back or run from the room, the Master of Thieves had laid her hand on her cheek. Fire licked at Adelaide’s bones. Her body went limp as pain sparked through every part of her body and down every nerve. Mistress Scrabs quickly shifted her hand to hold the back of Adelaide’s head as her body betrayed her and crumpled to the floor. A scream bubbled up in her throat, but cut off as Mistress Scrabs’s magic clawed around her throat and silenced her.

Adelaide’s mind went blank. She stopped fighting and just let her body succumb to the fizzle of Mistress Scrabs’s magic. Inky black bubbles dotted Adelaide’s vision. A flood of exhaustion overcame her. Stars sparked as her vision turned hazy and Mistress Scrabs became a blurred figure above her.

Finally, the Master of Thieves let her go. Her head smacked against the hardwood floor, a dull pain compared to the force of Mistress Scrabs’s magic sweeping through her. The pain stopped instantly. Adelaide’s heart pounded against her chest. She breathed heavily, heaving in air as though she hadn’t ever had enough. Slowly, the shadows faded from her vision, and her eyes cleared. Adelaide’s ears rang. Feeling returned to the tips of her toes and fingers, and then throughout the rest of her body.

“There’s been a change of plans,” Mistress Scrabs informed her, though Adelaide didn’t understand her words. A thick fog misted her brain. The Master of Thieves’s face had hardened, a rare crack in the airy composure she kept. “I need you to steal something more from Archduke Hughes than just the Eye.”

Adelaide groaned, letting her eyes fall shut. Did Mistress Scrabs even realize she couldn’t understand a word she was saying?

Apparently not, for the Master of Thieves kept speaking. “I want you to steal his heart. I need the archduke distracted, and if you have his heart, maybe you’ll actually be able to get me what I want. You can do that for me, can’t you, Adelaide?”

Adelaide swallowed her shame. Tears pricked her eyes. Unwilling to meet Mistress Scrabs’s gaze as she crouched beside her and stared down at her, Adelaide instinctually whispered, “Yes, My Lady.”

Mistress Scrabs smiled, a chilling expression that did not meet her eyes or soothe Adelaide’s soul. The graceful facade restored itself as Mistress Scrabs stood. She straightened her fine silk blouse and adjusted the ring on her finger without an apparent care. “Good. Then I’ll leave you to your work. I have more important matters to attend to in the meantime, but by the half-moon, the archduke had better be so in love with you that one little word could influence him. Make the kingdom’s shield fall in love.”

The Master of Thieves stepped over Adelaide. She had half a mind to grab the woman’s boot and drag her down to the floor. But Adelaide could hardly twitch her fingers, let alone command her arms to move or control the whole of her body’s strength.

She wished she’d brought the dagger Ethan had given her. Maybe then she would have been a bit braver.

The door closed with a thump . Adelaide shut her eyes. Taking a deep breath and then another, Adelaide forced herself up on an elbow. Her mind spun. Closing her eyes against the throbbing of her temples, Adelaide pulled herself to sit up against the wall.

Slumped against it, she waited for the pounding of her heart to subside.

As the clip-clop of horses’ hooves and calling merchants reached her ears from the streets below, Adelaide forced her mind to make sense of Mistress Scrabs’s command.

She wanted her to steal Archduke Hughes’s heart?

Did she mean that in the literal sense?

No, Adelaide remembered. She wanted Adelaide to make the archduke fall in love with her.

Adelaide pressed her hands against her eyes and drew her knees to her chest. How was she supposed to accomplish that? She was forgettable, someone who went unnoticed, a ghost.

The archduke would never fall in love with her, especially not as quickly as Mistress Scrabs presumably expected. He was too smart, too insightful. Moreover, Adelaide would never get close enough to him to even attempt to flirt or…

Her blood ran cold.

What if it wasn’t flirting Mistress Scrabs expected of her? What if mere words weren’t enough to make the archduke fall in love with her so she could steal the Eye of Behelwer?

Adelaide was guilty of many things. And though she hadn’t been able to live with that guilt, she realized it was more tolerable than what was expected of her now.

She could not— would not —steal someone’s heart. Even if she was capable of such a thing, Adelaide didn’t think she could allow herself to give such an intimate part of herself.

She needed to find another way. She had to—Adelaide lifted her head.

She needed to put her faith in someone more powerful than herself in spite of how terrifying the prospect was.