Page 44 of Desperately Yours

Dahlia set both hands on her hips and took on the stance of an angry librarian. “All correspondence comes through the lady’s maid, Sir.”

“And you touched it, and now I’ll deliver it.” He slid gracefully around her and put it in my hand. “Seriously, great news about the envelope. I hope you have all the happiness in the world with thatenvelope.”

He was laying it on a little too thick. Dahlia’s glance darted back and forth between us, a child who didn’t understand the adults’ joke, but was sure it was at her expense. Because of her reaction, I tucked the envelope into my pocket. “I think that will be all for now, Dahlia.”

“But I’m supposed to help you get ready.” She glared at Bishop. “And I can’t very well leave you alone with a man in your room.”

“So scandalous,” Bishop whispered under his breath. “Someone fetch me my best pearls. I must clutch them at once.”

I tightened my smile. “Bishop is here to fetch me for a project.” Lies were all I had left. “I wanted to get together a gift for the king and queen. They have been so wonderful to allow me to stay. Since I’m leaving, I wanted to express my gratitude.”

“Really?” She wasn’t buying it. “And how, pray tell, do you plan on doing that?”

“Wildflowers,” Bishop answered for me. “From Winderlam. The snow lilies and the ice pansies are out. I told Lady Michaela that I would teach her how to weave a winter crown for their majesties.”

Like frost in sunshine, Dahlia’s cold exterior melted. “Like the nursery rhyme?” Her eyes became dreamy as she started to recite something in a singsong voice. “Sleepy spirits, chant her name. Sweetly comes the queen again. Drysden’s love and country’s fame. Crown Queen Nolcola, home again.”

I recognized the names. Fitz told me their story after The Snood competition. His ancestors who had forged their love against all odds. I strangely felt a connection to them, considering the battle I feared I was facing.

“We used to sing that when we were kids,” Dahlia reminisced. “And we would weave the crowns while we did. What a wonderful gift to give them.” She threw her arms around me in a tight embrace. “Sometimes I wish it could be you, but alas, you’re destined for doom instead.” She pulled back and gave a quick smile before she made her exit.

“She’s a bit off her rocker, isn’t she?” Bishop asked as soon as the door clicked shut.

I didn’t have time to dive into concern for Dahlia’s mental health “Look, I’ve been putting some stuff together. I’ll catch you up on the way, but can you get me out to the shipping docks without my shadow?”

“Kabir?” He almost asked why but ignored it. “It can be arranged, but why the shipping docks?”

I snagged my coat from the hook and started for the door. “Because there are two crates we never searched, and I think they hold our answers.”

Michaela

“Correct me if I’m wrong.” Bishop peered around the next corner as he had for the last twelve. “The queen's power-hungry nature has convinced you that the only chance she has to satisfy her ambition is by planning a massacre of the entire royal party at the ball tonight? You know you sound like a loon, yes?”

“And yet, people have staged coups for less.”

“Excuse me if I have a hard time following since you’re talking about my aunt.”

It didn’t take much to sense his skepticism, and sure, as I heard myself telling him, I had to admit it sounded like ramblings of a conspiracy theorist.

Bishop waved me forward and we jogged to the edge of the shipping warehouse. He paused, listening for any others.

“We don’t have a great deal of time.” He stole a quick peek around the corner. “Afternoons don’t tend to have as many shipments on normal days, but today is far from normal and a great deal is expected. If we’re spotted, I don’t know that I can save you. This fool’s errand must go quickly.”

I bristled at his opinion. Granted, it had been weeks since we’d snuck in the last time. Maybe it was stupid to think the crates were still here or we might find some trace of them. But I expected him to be on my side. It irked me that he wasn’t.

With a wave of his hand, he cued our entrance into the warehouse. Light faded away as we entered, but Bishop switched on the flashlight app on his phone. His eyes searched the darkness, waiting for any indication we weren’t alone.

“He’ll kill me if I let you get hurt. You know that, right?” In the faint glow, I watched the muscles in his jaw tense as Bishop went uncharacteristically stoic. “He’s already facing his father’s death. I don’t think he’ll forgive yours.”

“Stop being dramatic.” I pushed around him and headed for the far side where the crates had been the last time we saw them.

“So says the one who claims a massacre waits in the wings.”

I rolled my eyes, not that he could see it. If I managed to figure out what was actually going on, there would be no attack and, thus, no reason to be afraid.

Behind me, the spine of a binder cracked open and within seconds pages started flipping. “You know, there’s always the chance that you’re paranoid.”

“Considering the alternative, I would welcome it.” And I meant it. An attack like this would be unprecedented. I wanted to be wrong, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I wasn’t.

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