I blinked. “What other way is there?”
He grinned. “There’s a secret entrance.”
“What? Okay, not even touching upon how convenient that is, but how in the hell didn’t I know about it?”
He shrugged, hands still upon the Great Doors. “Only a few of us do. Me. My father. Ryan.” He paused. Then, “Your mother.”
I gaped at him. “My mother? How in the hell did she—” And then I remembered what was on the other side of the throne room. “Her garden. Are you telling me that there is a passage through the garden to the dungeons and my mother knew about it?”
“She was its caretaker,” Ryan said quietly. “The King entrusted the secret to her.”
“I don’t understand. I know every inch of this castle. Where would it—” I sighed. “Her secret garden. That’s where it is, isn’t it? That’s why she—godsdammit. I didn’t see that one coming. Well played. I’m a little pissed that you all knew about it and I didn’t, but still. Good job on that one.”
“Are you done?” Justin asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Yes. Please, go ahead. Lead me toward the secret that was kept from me because you guys suck balls or whatever. I mean, I would accept an apology, but we can worry about that later. Stop wasting time.”
Justin sighed but pushed open the Great Doors.
THE THRONES sat as they always had, the King’s bigger than the Prince’s. Myrin hadn’t removed them. He probably enjoyed the irony of one such as him sitting in a place meant for one who ruled with a kind and gentle hand.
But everything else was different.
The banners were here too, much larger and hanging from the ceiling. It was almost shocking to see them, looking brutal and cruel in what was meant to be a place o
f peace.
Myrin had made this place his own, and I hated everything about it.
Justin’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t hesitate as he marched through the throne room, thick shoulders squared, head held high. He glanced once at the thrones but didn’t stop, heading for the doors on the opposite wall.
Ryan followed him just as quickly.
I paused when we passed the thrones. I sent up a silent prayer to the gods, however useless it would be.
But that was all I could do for now.
We were through the doors and out into the garden before we could be noticed.
The sky above was littered with stars.
David’s Dragon twinkled brightly, and I did my best not to scowl up at it.
My mother’s flowers were mostly dead and rotting, the grounds unkempt. She would be fuming at the sight of them. I promised myself it’d be one of the first things we’d correct. I’d be out here with her from sunup to sundown if that’s what it took. We moved through the garden, pushing through leafy limbs that stretched out around us, thorns prickling, the perfume of the dead flowers sickly-sweet and cloying. Ryan knew the way to the secret part of the garden, but I’d never seen Justin there, so I was a little surprised to find him leading the way confidently. Granted, I hadn’t known about the secret entrance either, so perhaps Justin had been there more than I’d thought.
Right before we rounded the corner to the start of the secret garden, Ryan and Justin stopped, exchanged a look, then turned back around to face me.
I didn’t like the look of this.
“Morgan knew,” Justin said quietly.
I had no idea what he was talking about. “Knew what?”
“He knew you came here,” Ryan said. “When you had to think. When you needed to clear your head. When you wished upon the stars.”
No, I wasn’t going to do this now. “Good for him. I don’t know how you know that, but that’s just great. So, if we can—”
“He left a letter,” Justin said, and I swallowed with an audible click. “My father found it in his office. He swore that it wasn’t there before, and maybe with all the upheaval, he missed it, but—he found it. The day after you left.”