Page 19

Adelaide

A delaide wrapped her arms around herself. Dazed by the recent events, she watched with a burdened heart as Gavin slipped from the room. Would it have been too much to stay in each other’s arms for a moment longer?

Or would the world have collapsed around them?

Adelaide sighed. She didn’t have the time to linger on idle fantasies, not when she’d willingly offered herself up as a sacrificial agent for his and Sir Maxwell’s investigation. Even if she hadn’t told Gavin of her connection to Mistress Scrabs, she’d still have to report her progress to the Den of Thieves. The only benefit was that she didn’t have to sneak about. In truth, her confession had only made this task harder for her. Gavin was much too worried about her—even though she didn’t mind his concern. In fact, she found it quite endearing. After so long, it was nice to have someone to confide in, who checked on her, whom she could depend on if needed.

But trusting Gavin had complicated things.

All Adelaide could truly do in this moment, aside from preparing for the day ahead, was hope against all odds that Gavin wouldn’t send someone to watch over her and catch her in the act of treason.

Adelaide slipped out of her nightshirt with a shiver. She wondered what would happen if Gavin ever found out that she was involved with smuggling the Darshovian medicine her mother and countless others so desperately needed into Kordouva. Would he care enough to save her from the gallows? Would helping him stop the Master of Thieves be enough to earn her a lesser sentence?

Adelaide chewed her bottom lip. She hoped she would never find out.

Adelaide’s eyes flitted over every nook and cranny of the crooked buildings as she glanced up and down the street. She anxiously searched the shadows for any lingering forms, but found none. Breathing a sigh of relief, she crossed the street and tried the handle of the Hawk & Thorne Inn. Finding it locked, Adelaide cursed under her breath. Sliding a pin from her hair, she cast a glance about to ensure no one was observing her. With not a soul to be found, Adelaide bent the pin accordingly and set it into the lock. Patiently feeling the shift of the tumblers, Adelaide worked at the lock. She sighed when it finally clicked and let herself inside.

“Dylan, it’s me,” she called, closing the door behind her.

Dusty light filled the tavern. Adelaide cautiously took a step farther into the room, peering through the dim light that battled against the thin curtains pulled over the windows.

Where was Dylan?

Gripping the warm hilt of the dagger Ethan had given her, Adelaide examined the empty room. It could’ve been her imagination, but the thick tension in the inn made goosebumps erupt along her arms.

At this time of day, people should’ve been milling around. Someone should have been here—Dylan should’ve been here.

The only other time Adelaide had ever seen the inn closed and shuttered against the world was the day Mistress Scrabs had come to punish her for Jeffery’s capture.

Careful not to make a sound, Adelaide pulled her dagger from its sheath and edged her way toward the bar. Her gaze flitted about the room, knowing she could trust nothing.

With a long look toward the barren tavern, Adelaide twisted the handle of the door behind the bar. The squeak of the hinges pierced the room like a cannon blast. Adelaide’s heart pounded between her ears. Nothing followed in the wake of the disturbance. She strained her ears. The stale air of the inn’s storeroom wafted up the stairs and assaulted her nose. Low voices could be heard from down below. Adelaide pressed her lips together.

Could it be Dylan was only taking inventory?

Forcing herself to descend the worn staircase, Adelaide clutched her dagger closer to her chest. The hilt radiated heat. By the time she’d reached the bottom of the stairs, Adelaide had begun to wish she’d stayed at Castle Belmont, or had gone straight to the docks to inquire about the medicine directly with Mistress Scrabs’s privateer. But it was too late to turn back now.

Adelaide did her best to tamp down the chill that crawled down her spine. The voices became more distinguishable with each step she took. She stuck to the shadows between the bouncing light cast by the flickering lanterns, hiding behind crates and barrels scattered throughout the cellar and along the walls.

As she came to the end of the stored goods, Adelaide peeked around the corner of the crate. Her eyes landed on her worst fear, and her throat closed.

Mistress Scrabs, and a man she didn’t recognize.

“It shouldn’t be much longer now,” Mistress Scrabs said airily. She sat delicately atop a barrel across the way, watching as the man clothed in a dark cloak paced before her. He had his hands clasped behind his back and made stiff, quick turns as he paced. Agitation rolled off of him in waves. Though he was slight, he seemed to dominate the space. Shadows seemed to cling to him. Adelaide forced herself to swallow. She shouldn’t be here.

Mistress Scrabs continued, “My source within Castle Belmont says the two have grown fond of each other. They even spent the night together.”

“I don’t see how that would help us,” the man spat. “We cannot wait for the eclipse.”

“I know this.” Mistress Scrabs slipped from the barrel and walked right up to the man. Putting her hands on his chest to stop his pacing, Mistress Scrabs smiled sharply under her mask. “That’s why we’re going to steal the Eye of Behelwer and use it to force the eclipse sooner and bolster your magic to keep opening portals into Penumbra.”

Adelaide nearly stumbled. Had she heard that correctly? Could the Eye be used to move celestial bodies? Could they really make the eclipse happen sooner than the astronomers anticipated it would?

For all their sakes, she hoped not. She fought against a shudder as old memories of Penumbra’s War flitted through her mind. Not nearly enough time had passed between now and then. Seven years had hardly healed Kordouva.

“And you’re going to steal it for us, isn’t that right, Adelaide?”

Adelaide’s blood froze. Her mouth went dry.

“Come now, Addie,” Mistress Scrabs taunted her as she turned on her heel and stared directly at Adelaide’s hiding place. “I know you’re there. Don’t make me come and get you. It will only be harder for you if I do.”

Adelaide couldn’t catch her breath. She swallowed hard and sheathed her dagger. Stiff with fear, she forced herself to stand, ensuring that her cloak hid the weapon, and joined the pair in the weak glow of the lantern. Her mind whirred. She needed to say something, anything, that might save herself.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I was only looking for Dylan.”

Mistress Scrabs tilted her head. A mocking frown settled over her lips. “Oh? You haven’t heard?”

Dread twisted in Adelaide’s gut. She shook her head.

“Poor dear,” Mistress Scrabs said, approaching her. Standing face-to-face with her, Mistress Scrabs put a hand on Adelaide’s shoulder like someone offering comfort might. It only made the buzzing in Adelaide’s chest crescendo. She waited for the pain to flood her system. But none came. Instead, Mistress Scrabs frowned and squeezed her shoulder a fraction too hard.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, Addie, but Dylan’s dead. Caught spying on us, I’m afraid.”

“That’s horrible,” Adelaide said numbly. Her mind seized. Any and all thought came to a harsh stop. Adelaide could feel her chest heaving, but her conscious mind was so far removed from any sense, she felt nothing at all.

“I knew you would be sympathetic.” Mistress Scrabs smiled. Her grip on Adelaide’s shoulder eased. “If only everyone could be as understanding.”

The man scoffed. “Are you quite done yet?”

Mistress Scrabs blissfully pulled away from her, but not before Adelaide had seen the twitch in her jaw and the roll of her eyes. Adelaide shifted on her feet. She’d have to remember that for later. She didn’t know if the tension between them would be helpful, but surely it could help drive them apart if only she knew how or what their goals were.

“I find it rude that someone who has very little to contribute to our efforts has such an outspoken impatience,” The Master of Thieves replied evenly. Adelaide wanted to run, knowing that tone was a precursor to something awful. “Adelaide is an excellent thief, perfectly unremarkable, reliable, and unassuming.”

Adelaide’s hand gravitated toward her wrist and began to rub it soothingly, as if she could make herself small enough to disappear. The action offered her little comfort. Until she was dismissed, there was nothing she could do but stand there obediently and listen as Mistress Scrabs whittled away at her self-worth, all under the guise of praising her usefulness.

The man let out a long-suffering sigh. Adelaide observed him through her lashes, too ashamed and frightened to look at him directly.

“I don’t know how I ever let you convince me of your plan, My Lady.”

“I wouldn’t be me without my charms, now would I, Your Highness?” Mistress Scrabs purred. The edge in her voice dulled. She smoothed a hand up the man’s chest and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, pressing herself up against him.

Nausea burned in Adelaide’s gut. Highness?

All discretion fled. Adelaide outwardly studied the man, his dark hair and deep-set eyes. His golden eyes.

Darshovi.

A Darshovian royal.

Adelaide’s head pounded. Faintness filled her bones. Her mind spun, struggling to comprehend just who she was looking at—and the relationship implied between him and the Master of Thieves.

It should have been impossible. She was seeing a ghost, an illusion, a trick.

Yet a tiny voice tried to convince her that maybe she wasn’t.

Darshovi’s fifth prince, Prince Branigan, was rumored to be the only survivor of the country’s royal family in the wake of Penumbra’s War, but up until this very moment, Adelaide hadn’t believed the speculation to be more than idle gossip.

But if she was right, and the golden eyes of the man before her weren’t an illusion, the hallmark of the Darshovi’s royal family had given her all she needed to know.

The King of Kordouva had been right to seek out the Eye of Behelwer and hide it. Gavin had been right to ruthlessly search for Mistress Scrabs and reveal her.

The prince’s gaze slid to her over Mistress Scrabs’s shoulder. Adelaide squirmed under the full weight of his calculating gaze. “How can we trust her? What’s to say the archduke hasn’t gotten in her head?”

An amused smirk pulled at Mistress Scrabs’s lips, though her eyes narrowed as she turned to look at Adelaide. “I don’t see how the archduke could. Not when I’ve already gone through the hassle of securing her mother’s medicine and my guards personally delivered it to Addie’s family’s home. Isn’t that right, Adelaide?”

The unspoken threat rattled her conscience. Adelaide feared she’d be sick. Mistress Scrabs’s men were at her home. A clammy sweat broke out along the back of her neck. They had her family. “Right. Thank you, My Lady.”

“Then we’re agreed.” Prince Branigan hummed. The shadows around him seemed to grow thicker, darker. “You’ll steal the Eye for us, and if you succeed, you’ll be rewarded handsomely. If you fail…Well, I suppose you won’t, now, will you? Not if you want to save your family. I hear those who disappoint the Master of Thieves suffer dearly.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Adelaide forced herself to speak around the rocks in her throat. “I should return to Castle Belmont before His Grace starts searching for me.”

“Were you that successful in stealing his heart, Addie, dear?”

Adelaide nodded weakly. “It’s what you asked of me, My Lady.”

Mistress Scrabs hummed, apparently pleased with her response. “Wonderful. Then all that’s left is for you to deliver the Eye to us and return to Belmont to keep the archduke distracted for us.”

Adelaide’s head spun. She wanted to faint. She wished the ground would swallow her whole so she wouldn’t have to face this situation any longer, or worse: face Gavin now that Mistress Scrabs had forced her hand.

Instead, she bowed her head and offered a quiet affirmation at the order. A silent tear trailed down her cheek as she turned away. Shame licked at her bones as Adelaide receded farther within herself.

She wished it had never come to any of this.