Page 40 of To Steal the Sun

But when the warm light on the floor of her chamber crept all the way to the door of their hidden room, she reluctantly stepped back from his arms.

“It’s getting late,” she said. “And you need to leave.”

“Gwen,” he sounded dazed and reluctant, and she understood his distaste at the idea of parting. But she wouldn’t put him in danger.

“It’s too dangerous for you to stay here,” she said firmly. “And you can’t travel through the city at night. You need to go now while you can still creep out safely. Once everyone turns into bears, someone might smell you.”

He grimaced but didn’t protest again. And at least she was able to accompany him through the corridors, checking around each corner for him and guiding him to the nearest door. He told her not to come outside, though, pointing out that he could more easily creep unseen through the gardens alone.

She had been the one to insist he leave, but it was still painful to watch him go. Words to call him back kept rising to her tongue, nearly escaping. But she bit down on them and held them inside. They were in a desperate fight for their future and their happiness, and she couldn’t let a moment’s weakness ruin everything.

CHARLOTTE

They had returned to Natalie’s house, but Natalie herself had disappeared somewhere. As Patti plied them all with endless cups of tea, Charlotte tried not to worry about what trouble the girl was getting into.

Charlotte felt out of place, aware that she was being treated more frostily since she had returned from the palace without Easton. But her diversionary efforts had only been required to help get him into the building. He had assured her that once inside, he knew every corridor, cranny, and hiding place. That didn’t mean she would breathe easily until he returned safely, however—preferably with good news about Gwen. She didn’t even blame his parents for assigning her some of the blame for his foolhardy decision to breach the palace. They had only just been reunited, and now he had placed himself straight into danger again.

She had positioned herself in a corner, as out of the way as possible, while she watched Patti and Lydia work together seamlessly, ferrying hot drinks and preparing the evening meal. Lydia in particular fascinated her. Lydia had once been a courtier, but she seemed to have adjusted to life as an ordinary citizen. Could Charlotte do the same in reverse? Would she one day be as comfortable in a palace—on a throne—as Lydia was in a kitchen?

The sound of the front door banging open made her sit up, half-hopeful, half-scared. But the sounds that emerged from the front hall were welcoming, and she sank back against the sofa.

Easton appeared in the sitting room doorway, still slightly out of breath, as if he’d run through half the city to get to them before sunset. He endured exclamations, hugs, and scoldings from both Lydia and Patti before he noticed Charlotte sitting quietly in the corner. He gave her a meaningful nod, his face serious but his eyes bright, and a further knot of tension released inside her. He wouldn’t look like that unless Gwen was all right.

His safe return changed the tone in the whole house. No one sent her looks of recrimination anymore, and further new arrivals—including Count Oswin, his son, and numerous rebels Charlotte didn’t recognize—only increased the buzz in the atmosphere. And best of all, Charlotte even saw Natalie slip in, unnoticed in the chaos except by Charlotte and Baden.

“Thank goodness,” Baden muttered to his sister. “Mother was starting to talk about sending me out to look for you.”

Natalie rolled her eyes. “As if you would have been able to find me.”

“That’s what I tried to tell her,” he replied, unoffended by her response.

Patti finally noticed her daughter’s arrival, pulling her in to help with the evening meal, and Charlotte went with them. In the kitchen, surrounded by women who worked around and over each other, their voices and hands overlapping as they prepared a last-minute feed for a crowd, she could almost pretend she was back home in the valleys. The mountain people might be the stuff of fairy tales, but they gathered together and shared meals to mark significant occasions just as the valley folk did. She only wished Henry was there with her. As it was, she kept looking over her shoulder, half-expecting to see him. Without him present, something essential was missing.

When the count and his son transformed into bears, there was only a small ripple of unease among the rebels present which spoke of how much the two of them were trusted. And when everyone had eaten their fill, they gathered back in the sitting room, faces turning serious. There weren’t enough seats for everyone—especially with the count and his son in their bear forms—so Charlotte wedged herself into a corner, content to sit on the floor. This had been their fight long before it was hers, and while they were allies, they had different final goals.

As quiet finally settled on the room, everyone having found a place, Charlotte noticed the way everyone’s attention turned to Easton. He was a recent arrival just like her, but he belonged here in a way she didn’t. Already the rebels were looking to him as much as Count Oswin as their leader. Clearly they had accepted the idea of him as future king.

“I spoke to the princess,” he said, his voice grave. “And I learned something important.” He paused and everyone stayed silent, attentive. “Celandine’s reign is illegitimate. She never married King Isander. She was never truly queen.”

Murmurs and exclamations swept the group. Charlotte felt no great surprise, though. She had only heard the story of the king’s marriage earlier that day, and unfettered by years of accepting it as truth—especially knowing what they did now of Celandine—the whole tale had sounded implausible to her.

“Does the princess have proof?” asked a rebel Charlotte didn’t know.

Easton shook his head, his expression grim. “Unfortunately not. She only pieced it all together today after finally discovering Celandine isn’t her mother. She knows the story isn’t true because she remembers their visit to the lodge. She was with her father the whole time, and Celandine wasn’t there like she claimed she was. But twenty-year-old memories aren’t proof.”

“They’re proof enough for me,” someone muttered, and several people called out agreement.

“It’s enough for me, too,” Easton said. “But it isn’t enough to march into the palace right now and remove her from the throne. I hope we can use the information, though. It’s another tool to sway the court when we make our move.”

Heads nodded in all directions.

“I also got confirmation that the wedding is planned for the day after tomorrow,” he said. “Which means we need to start planning how we get ourselves into the palace. From what I’ve learned, we won’t want to leave it until the last minute. At the moment, the queen is busy punishing her guards for failing to catch Charlotte.”

Heads briefly turned in her direction, and she managed an awkward smile.

“She has them training from sunup to sundown,” Easton continued, “which means there are only the standard patrols in the gardens, and they’re tired and making sloppy mistakes. But it will be different on the wedding day itself. Every guard will be on duty, watching the perimeter of the gardens and the palace. And they’ll all be on high alert since they’ll be released from the extra training if the wedding goes smoothly.”

“So we need to get in the day before,” Jett said, leaning forward. “Tomorrow. We need our whole force concealed in the palace before sundown the day before the wedding.”

---