Page 47 of To Steal the Sun

Easton frowned.

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” she said firmly. “But the count already told you how important you are. Your role is to appear in the middle of the wedding. No matter what else happens, we can’t let that fail. And that means you need to stay right here in this cupboard.”

“You want me to just sit here while—”

“Yes,” she said, cutting him off ruthlessly. “I know I’m asking the hardest possible thing. I know it’s the last thing you want to do. But this is what is needed from you, Easton.”

“How can you save them on your own?” Easton shook his head. “Alone, and a stranger here no less.”

Charlotte drew herself up. “I won’t be alone. There’s someone else who knows this palace almost as well as you do.”

Easton scrambled to his feet. “We don’t even know where Gwen is. And if it’s too dangerous for me to get involved, it’s several times more dangerous for her.” He groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face. “If the queen somehow knows our plans, she must already know Gwen is involved as well. Who knows what she’s done to her.”

“Stop!” Charlotte commanded. “Stop thinking like that, or you’ll drive yourself mad. Believe me. I have reason to know.”

Easton subsided, apparently remembering how long the queen had been holding Charlotte’s husband a prisoner.

“There’s someone else who knows these corridors and rooms,” Charlotte said more softly. “Or at least, a copy of them. Henry. Just give us a chance.”

Easton hesitated for a moment before he groaned and sank back to the floor. “Who has more experience at waiting than me?” he asked bitterly.

“I’m sorry.” Charlotte hesitated, but the best reassurance she could offer was to succeed at rescuing the other rebels. “I’ll come back for you as soon as I can. Promise you’ll still be here?”

He nodded, not looking at her, and she had to accept it.

Stooping to check the peephole, she confirmed the corridor outside was still empty before leaving the cupboard. She scanned the corridor, locking each distinguishing feature in her mind so she could find the place again.

Drawing the golden ball out of her pocket, she stared down at it. The godmother who had given it to her had said it would help her find her true love. She still didn’t know how it was supposed to work, but it was all she had.

She placed it gently on the ground and, feeling foolish, whispered, “Please take me to Henry.”

Nothing happened, and her sense of foolishness grew until suddenly, without visible impetus, the ball began to move. It rolled down the corridor, following after the departed prisoners, and she hurried in its wake. She was relieved the ball was leading her in the opposite direction to the apartment used by the rebels. It seemed likely there would be guards stationed there still, waiting in case she and Easton appeared.

But soon she didn’t have thoughts for anything except the task of following the ball. It moved at pace, and she worried about losing it every time it rounded a corner—almost as much as she worried about it leading her straight into a squad of guards or a group of courtiers.

But almost as if it knew, the ball led her only down deserted corridors, or through empty rooms. When it finally rolled to a stop, it bumped gently against a concealed door that looked almost identical to the one on the storage cupboard half a palace away.

She frowned at the ball. Henry was concealed inside a storage cupboard now? Tentatively she tried the door, and it opened without resistance. Peering inside, she saw only similar supplies to those that had filled the last cupboard, although these appeared to be finer in quality, the pillows and blankets soft and luxurious.

She went to shut the door, but the ball rolled inside. Confused, Charlotte followed. When she bent to retrieve it, it zipped away from her, rolling just out of reach. She stepped closer to try again, and it did the same thing.

Throwing her hands up, Charlotte cried, “Fine!”

Closing the door behind her, she crossed her arms. “I’ll stay in here if that’s what you want.”

The ball immediately rolled forward and bumped gently against her boots.

Charlotte retrieved it without trouble this time, considering what she should do. She could leave now that she had the ball secured, but where would she go?

Spotting the circle of light from a peephole, she bent to peer through it. Maybe it was worth watching for a while to see what happened.

CHARLOTTE

The minutes stretched long, and Charlotte began to regret her plan, her back spasming from the awkward position. She was about to give up and straighten when a sound caught her ear. Pressing her eye closer, she forgot the discomfort.

A door almost directly opposite her opened, and a subdued pair of women emerged. For a moment, disappointment speared her until she spotted what was in the hands of the woman in the lead. Draped over her arm was an unfinished but elaborate outfit—the kind that might be worn by a male at a wedding or similar celebration.

She sucked in a breath as the woman turned to her younger companion. “Those measurements should have been done two weeks ago. We’ll be lucky to have this done on time, even with the whole team working all night. You lock up and return the key, and I’ll get this straight to the others.”

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