“I learned this firsthand from her attendant, Pauline,” Gwyneth quickly added. “She witnessed the abduction.”
The Chancellor stopped mid-stride. “Pauline?” He sat down again. “Where is she?”
I swallowed, dipping my head lower.
“She’s in hiding,” Gwyneth said, “somewhere in the north country. A frightened little mouse she was, but she gave me the last of her coin to come here and plead for help for Princess Arabella. She told me to go to the Viceregent, but I came to you instead—since we have a history. I thought I might get a more favorable recompense from you. Pauline promised I’d get an ample reward for my troubles. I’m sure the king and queen desperately want the princess back, regardless of her indiscretion.”
He stared at her, the same severe expression I saw him wear in my wanderings at the citadelle, but now it was intensified, as if he were calculating the veracity of every word Gwyneth uttered. He finally reached inside his cloak and threw a small bag onto the table. “I’ll speak with the king and queen. Don’t mention this to anyone else.”
Gwyneth reached out and took the bag in her hand as if weighing it, then smiled. “You have my silence.”
“It’s good to work with you again, Gwyneth. Where did you say you were staying?”
“I didn’t.”
He leaned forward. “I ask only because I might be able to help you with more comfortable accommodations. Like before.”
“Very generous of you. Let me know what the king and queen have to say, and then we’ll discuss my accommodations.”
She smiled, fluttered her lashes, tilted her head the way I had seen her do with countless tavern patrons and then, when he left, she sat back and a waxy sheen of sweat lit her face. She reached up and wiped damp strands of hair from her forehead.
I walked over to her. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, but clearly she was shaken. From the moment he’d mentioned the child, I had seen everything about Gwyneth grow tighter. “You had a baby with the Chancellor?” I asked.
Fury swept through her eyes. “Stillborn,” she said sharply.
“But, Gwyneth—”
“Stillborn, I said! Leave it, Pauline.”
She could say and pretend whatever she wanted, but I still knew the truth. She distrusted the Chancellor so much she wouldn’t even tell him about his own child.
* * *
A package arrived at the inn the next day. It wasn’t addressed to the messenger service but directly to Gwyneth at the inn. It held a larger bag of coins than the day before and a note.
I’ve i
nquired of the parties you mentioned, and they have no interest in pursuing the matter. They both consider it best left as is, with a reminder that the city is still in mourning for Princess Greta and their concerns lie now with Crown Prince Walther, whose company of men has gone missing. This is for your troubles and discretion.
The king and queen had turned their backs on their daughter? Best left as is? To be tortured and killed at the hands of barbarians? I shook my head in disbelief. I couldn’t believe they would abandon their own daughter, but then the word mourning struck me.
I sat on the bed, my strength drained, and guilt overwhelmed me. Mourning I understood. In all my worry for Lia, I had almost forgotten about Greta and the tragedy that set Lia on the road back to Civica in the first place. Walther’s haunting expression loomed in front of me again, and the way he had looked as he huddled in the mud behind the icehouse. The horror in his eyes. He hadn’t seemed like Lia’s brother at all, but a shell of the man he had once been. At least I hadn’t seen Mikael killed right before my eyes. Lia had told me only that he died bravely in battle. Now I wondered if a soulless barbarian like Kaden had shot an arrow through his throat too. I cradled my stomach, feeling the grief again.
“We need to leave,” Gwyneth said. “Immediately.”
“No,” I argued. “I’m not leaving just because—”
“Not Civica. This inn. This hamlet. The Chancellor figured out where I’m staying. He must have bribed the messenger. Now he’ll either be expecting me to be on my way, or paying me a visit for other favors. It won’t be long before he discovers you.”
I didn’t argue. I’d heard his voice when he asked, Where is she? He hadn’t asked out of concern for my well-being.
For when the Dragon strikes,
It is without mercy,
And his teeth sink in,