Page 75 of A Pact of Blood

It only takes a few minutes before he reaches his climax on his own. As he sinks into total oblivion, I clean him up as briskly as I can and then go to my trunk.

I don’t know exactly how long I’ll be gone tonight. It’s safest not to leave anything to chance.

The second potion I brewed this afternoon has cooled into a grainy paste. I smear a little on my fingertip and bring it back to my husband.

His lips part easily at my prodding. I run my finger over his tongue.

Based on its scent, the sedative will have a similar aftertaste to alcohol. If any flavor lingers when he wakes, he should assume it’s from the wine he was drinking. For good measure, I take the goblet I carried back here after dinner and dribble some on the bed near his face before setting the glass on the side table.

The sedative should ensure he sleeps several hours. Which means I’ll have to endure his snoring the entire night after I return rather than hearing him depart in the wee hours of the morning, but I can tolerate that discomfort to gain everything else I hope to.

I pull the least cumbersome of my packed dresses out of my trunk and wriggle into it. Then I ease open one of the windows to peer into the darkness outside.

Only a few lanterns gleam amid the palace grounds. There’s no entrance on this side of the building. The guards will be stationed by the doors at the front and back, as well as along the outer walls of the estate.

I clamber onto the window ledge and reach into the pear tree. Gripping one branch, I swing myself out and settle myfeet near the trunk. I tie a tasseled rope I liberated from one of the curtains there.

It only takes a few careful maneuvers to work my way far enough down to feel comfortable dropping the last short distance. The tied rope dangles to just a few feet above the grass, well within reach for when I need leverage to scramble back up again.

And neither my personal guards nor Marclinus’s have any idea I’ve left my rooms.

Brushing my hands together, I skirt the side of the palace through the still darkness. Night-dwelling insects chitter, and a dog howls somewhere in the distance, but I can’t make out any sounds from inside.

I peek around the corner to ensure there’s no one nearby in the gardens and then sneak along the windows at floor level.

The first room I pass is dark. The second, the one Lorenzo indicated is Bastien’s, holds a faint glow from a partly shaded lantern.

The two windows that belong to that room are closed. I tap on the pane as loudly as I dare, pause, and then tap again.

At my second beckoning, it only takes a few seconds before Bastien’s pale face appears beyond the glass. Eyes widening, he pushes the window open.

Raul pushes over beside him and holds out his tawny arms to help haul me inside. I scramble over the ledge just as Lorenzo hurries over from the room’s small sitting area.

Tension thrums through the air. None of us speaks, not even Lorenzo’s conjured voice in my head, until Bastien has shut and re-latched the window.

“What’s happened?” Raul demands. “If that prick has some new awful scheme?—”

I touch his hand, and he cuts himself off, his scowl softening with whatever comfort my touch provides.

As I step farther into the room, away from the window, Bastien jerks the curtains closed without needing to be asked. With all their gazes on me, the proposition I’m about to make feels even more immense than it did in the solitude of my chambers this afternoon.

But I have one more urgent matter to consider first. I peer closely at Bastien and then Lorenzo, searching for any signs of pain. A prod of my gift during dinner didn’t reveal any lingering injuries that needed attention, but I need to hear confirmation from their own lips.

“Are you all right? The medics ensured that you’re completely healed?”

Bastien nods, with a flicker of a smile toward the prince of Lavira. “Raul didn’t hit us all that hard to begin with. We managed to get away with a bit of playacting and some bruises that’ve been well-soothed.”

Lorenzo echoes his foster brother’s reassurance with a couple of twists of his fingers.All’s well with us. And you?

I square my shoulders, girding myself for the possibility that my plans may end before I’ve done more than speak them. “I’m well enough, but… I’m the one doing the scheming tonight. Marclinus has gone too far. I thought there was a chance that I could nudge him onto a better course, but it seems no matter what I do, he only gets worse.”

Bastien’s jaw tightens. “Tarquin taught him too well.”

Lorenzo’s resonant voice fills my head.“It isn’t your fault, Rell. He never listens to anyone.”

Raul has latched on to the first part of my declaration. “What are you up to? You know we’ll help you however we can. Especially if it means seeing the imperial asshole get a taste of his own medicine.”

My chest constricts. I’ve all but admitted my murder of Tarquin to these men, but I never discussed it with thembeforehand. I’m not entirely sure how they’re going to react now.

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