Page 183 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

Tailor and I work for several hours as the time of the celebration draws near. Between the two of us, we have slipped notes to all our targets except for one. It has gone so well that I am beginning to wonder if I will need the liquid glamour after all.

Until I track down the last person.

Well, save the one I haven’t told Tailor about—Pavi.

It is the same woman who warned me and Lord Nothril’s slave girl, Elizabeth, the last time I was here. She has not been released from Lady Nothril’s service the entire time I have been here. I have no idea how I am going to let her know where to meet us.

I move carefully on my glass slippers through the servants’ tunnels. I will need to leave and cross the hallway to get to the network of tunnels on the other side. Standing by the door, I peer through the grate, trying to ascertain if the coast is clear. This task proves challenging because silent guards are posted at the most inconvenient locations. I cannot always see them from the grate.

I wait, breathing through my nose as quietly as I can.

Then, a shadow falls across the opulent hallway. It is a shadow I know like my own name.

It is enormous against the pillars of carved ebony, the outline of his wings broad and tucked in close, the hilts of his twin swords rising above his shoulders.

Rahk.

I cover my mouth with my hand and press myself against the cold tunnel wall. Silently, I watch as he comes into view. He wears a long, dark blue tunic of exquisite make, an embroidered sleeveless overcoat that dusts the floor as he walks, and tall boots. Half of his silver hair is pulled back in a gold-banded braid, the rest falling in shining waves down his back. For a moment, I glimpse his sharp profile. He is painfully beautiful, and my eyes ache to look upon him again.

Footsteps behind me nearly send me leaping out of my slippers.

“Excuse me, lass,” says an older man, carrying a tray of fragrant winged fish cooked in a purple sauce that brings out the iridescent tones of the scales and wings. The man’s accent isn’t from Harbright, instead reminding me of Algravia. I flatten myself against the wall and let him pass through the door to deliver his tray.

He’s not one of the ones we’re rescuing tonight.

How am I supposed to walk away from my unfinished work?

I look through the grate again. There is no sign of Rahk or anyone else. I cannot keep dallying. Guests will arrive soon for the celebration, and then it will be too late.

I dive into the hallway and slip into the opposite servants’ tunnel. I shut the door behind me, breathing hard, and glance back through the grate to ensure no one is following me.Good.

Then I navigate to Lady Nothril’s chamber. I have never come here before, but I’ve spent enough time scurrying like a rat through these tunnels that there are only a few places it can be. I find it within minutes.

What I find sends my stomach plummeting through the floor.

The peephole into the front of Lady Nothril’s chambers reveals over a dozen servants standing at attention. It is a mix of fae and human, so I cannot risk slipping inside. Lady Nothril is not visible, but I can only imagine that she is beyond the grand door at the far side of the room, readying herself for the celebration. The longer I wait, I can hear drifted murmurs from that room that sound like Pavi. I spot my other target practically smack in the middle of all the servants.

She looks even paler than she was last time, the color gone from her cheeks. Her body has lost its softness, becoming gaunt with hard angles of elbows and shoulders. Even her hair has dulled to a gray in this lighting.

There is no way I can reach her here. She does not wear the usual drag gray uniform, but a sleek black dress, and I realize she might be one of those tasked with serving the guests tonight. I bite back my snarled curse.

I cannot reach Pavi either.

My hand goes to the pocket where my glamour rests. There is nothing for me to do except wait for the celebration to start. We cannot, after all, start smuggling slaves out until then for fear of discovery.

I creep away from Lady Nothril’s chamber to find a better place to hide until the celebration begins.

I return to the laundry room and slip into the linen closet. I pull the small watch from the tailor out of my pocket and note the time. In that silence, the only sound filling the air is the softtick, tick, tick.I stare at those two little hands on the watch face until, at last, it is time. I stick my hand into my pocket and find my mask missing.Strange.I know I brought it with me. Maybe it fell out of my pocket somewhere? Hopefully not where a fae will find it!

I will just have to keep my hood low once the glamour wears off.

I fish further into my pocket, find the vial, and toss its contents down my throat. I check the watch one more time. My two-hour countdown has begun.

I have until midnight. Time to move.

Chapter 60

Kat

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