Page 3

Adelaide

A delaide snuggled deeper into the warmth surrounding her, not yet wanting to wake from the dream of a soft bed and a satisfied stomach. She just knew that if she opened her eyes, she would find herself either in some dingy inn lying on a bed stuffed with straw or worse. She’d always rather be at an inn than the room Mistress Scrabs had assigned to her at the auction house.

“Miss Adelaide?” a calm voice called, though muffled. “It’s time to get up, or you’ll miss your chance for breakfast before your duties!”

Adelaide forced herself to sit up, blinking away the remainder of her sleep. “Breakfast?” she muttered. Her heart stopped. Full awareness slammed into her and nearly knocked her out of the comfortable bed. When she glanced across the room, the bed where the other maid had slept was already made up and no doubt cold. Swearing under her breath, Adelaide scrambled out of bed. Mindful of her tender wrist, Adelaide hastily changed and pulled her hair back.

Wrenching the door open, Adelaide stopped short. Cathy smiled back at her, seemingly unaware that Adelaide had nearly knocked into her in her haste.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think you had to rush. I just didn’t want you to miss breakfast, and since you came from such a long way,” the brunette rambled, “we thought it was best to let you sleep a while longer than the rest of us.”

“Besides,” another started as she passed by, a thick accent in her voice, “you missed the stable hand’s attempt at serenading us while Ned fixed breakfast.”

Cathy giggled. “I thought it was entertaining.”

The maid with the accent—Juliana, Adelaide remembered—rolled her eyes. “That’s because you fancy Jacob.”

Adelaide found herself smiling, watching as Cathy looped her arm through Juliana’s and carried on in their journey down the narrow hall. The pair hardly fit down the aisle side by side.

Glancing back at her, Cathy asked, “Are you coming, Addie?”

Adelaide blinked at the nickname, her face warming. “Yes.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to things here in no time. You might even like it here in spite of the circumstances that brought you to us!” Cathy smiled.

Adelaide was still staring after them in wonder as the hall opened up into the galley kitchen where Ned was cleaning up their breakfast things. A place setting had been set aside for Adelaide.

“Eat your fill, love,” he said. “You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

Adelaide thanked him, uncertain if that was a warning or a simple fact. Either way, she wasn’t about to let the colorful plate of food go to waste.

Maybe…maybe she could take her time in acquiring the Eye of Behelwer for Mistress Scrabs.

Chewing slowly, Adelaide wondered how long she could dawdle before the Master of Thieves sent someone after her. Suppressing a shudder, the rational part of her mind asked if she was willing to find out the cost of such a slight against Mistress Scrabs.

Adelaide’s nose tingled. There had to be tens of thousands of portraits and vases and odd artifacts that needed dusting throughout the estate. She didn’t think her heart could withstand another sneeze, and she still had the entire third floor of the castle to dust.

In the time she’d spent dusting the first floor of Castle Belmont, she’d noted that few guards were stationed throughout the mansion. She only saw them at the entrances and exits, and hadn’t seen one since coming up to the second floor. It struck her as odd, though a part of her was relieved. Maybe that would make finding what she was looking for easier, and she’d be able to do so quickly.

But would the White Hawk of Kordouva really be so foolish as to leave his estate unguarded? Surely he wasn’t. Adelaide tilted her head, staring at the portrait she’d just finished dusting. She didn’t know who it was, though she wouldn’t doubt it was yet another Hughes ancestor. They were all starting to look the same to her. Blue eyes, stern expression, rich clothing. It was uncanny. For all she knew, she was staring at a portrait of the archduke himself. Though she supposed the trim beard gave away the fact that this was not the current head of Castle Belmont.

Adelaide’s mind returned to the problem at hand. If there were no guards, then how did Archduke Hughes protect his estate and all the valuables hidden within? Would she even be able to find, access, and steal what she’d come here for?

Or would she end up dead by some tragic mistake, struck down by a power she didn’t anticipate?

Surely that was more likely. His reputation didn’t lead her to believe that the castle was as open as it appeared. For someone the rumors painted as hardened by battle and more perceptive than his relatively young age should allow, could Castle Belmont truly be undefended? There had to be something guarding every nook and cranny of the grand estate.

“Hello, Miss Adelaide.” Archduke Hughes’s voice broke through her thoughts, making her flinch. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, though if I’m honest, I didn’t expect to find anyone up here.”

“Hello, Your Grace.” Adelaide bobbed a curtsy and offered a polite smile, still uncertain about meeting his eyes. The authority the archduke had wielded yesterday when he’d warned her about the importance of eye contact in his estate still made her uneasy.

How could she look them all in the eye and know she was lying to them every single day? She wouldn’t survive if she did.

“How is your wrist?” he asked, gesturing to the wrapping she still wore.

“It’s better,” Adelaide responded, forcing herself to lift her head and at least stare at his face. She hoped it would be enough to satisfy the archduke’s rule. “Though still a little tender. Thank you for asking, Your Grace.”

“I’m sure it will be much better in a few days,” he said, almost convincing Adelaide it would. “So aside from dusting, what else have you been tasked with?”

Adelaide nearly frowned. Why would the archduke care about her and her duties? In all the estates she’d infiltrated, never once had anyone, least of all the master of the estate, ever taken any interest in her. “Just the dusting for now, though I’ll be helping with the laundry beginning tomorrow as well.”

“At least the laundry room is warm. Training in the grounds this time of year is difficult.”

Adelaide couldn’t say she was used to the province’s winters, not if she intended to keep the ruse that she’d come from Lord Ventner’s estate in the north of Kordouva. She forced herself to smile. “Very true, Your Grace.”

Clearing his throat, Archduke Hughes stepped away. “I suppose I should go about my own duties and leave you to yours.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Adelaide didn’t like how quiet her voice had gone.

This was always the hardest part of any assignment Mistress Scrabs sent her on. She hated it, trying to figure out the dynamic of the estate and the people within its walls. Every time, Adelaide was forced to assess who was safe, who posed a threat to her, and who might realize why she’d come. And no matter how friendly people were toward her, Adelaide couldn’t allow them to seep into her life, regardless of whether or not she enjoyed their company or wanted to know them better.

She didn’t know how many more times she could steal for Mistress Scrabs before word began to spread of a maid with brown hair and green eyes who had a penchant for stealing. How it hadn’t already was almost insulting. Did the people she stole from truly not make the connection between her appearance at their estate and subsequent disappearance, along with one of their valuables?

Surely by now someone would have made the connection—unless she was truly as forgettable as Mistress Scrabs harshly praised her for.

Adelaide slumped and sent a longing gaze toward the portrait. But the painted face of the Hughes ancestor offered her no words of encouragement or contradiction to the Master of Thieves’s faux compliment.