Page 96 of The Musician and the Monster

Bronwyn paled considerably. A myriad of emotions raced across her face. Ceridwen could tell the moment her sister sorted out the puzzle. She looked at Ceridwen as Malik released her. “Then Drystan…”

“Is really Tristram Ithael,” she supplied. A weight lifted from her shoulders. Finally, her sister knew. She’d never kept secrets from her, not before she came to the manor. Sharing them now brought a sliver of peace to the turmoil in her heart.

“But he…didn’t he…” She’d never been quite so tongue-tied.

“He didn’t kill his parents. He was framed by our current king, a practitioner of dark magic.” Ceridwen shivered at the reference and looked over at Jackoby. “You know everything?”

One solemn nod confirmed everything before he even spoke. “That bit I knew before we came here, but only this morning did we learn his full plan. Goddess, give him strength.”

Malik nodded in confirmation. Some discussion had happened that morning that she hadn’t been privy to, but none of that mattered now.

“Do you trust her?” Jackoby asked, tipping his head toward Bronwyn.

“Completely.” Ceridwen took Bronwyn’s hands in hers, snaring her sister’s full attention. “Drystan plans to kill the king, and I intend to help him.”

Very rarely was Bronwyn ever stunned into silence, but she was at that moment, her eyes widening and mouth gaping open. Ceridwen looked past her sister at Malik. He knew Drystan’s plans, of course, but her following after had never been part of them.

To her surprise, Malik responded, “Good.” As if he was somehow glad Ceridwen planned to defy Drystan’s expectations and whatever orders he might have left for Malik to keep her there and out of trouble.

A grin tipped his lips up at the corners. “But I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I let you go alone. I’ll escort you to the capital. No one should stop you if you’re with me.”

Bronwyn’s grip on her hands tightened. “I’m going too.”

“No.” Ceridwen’s heart leaped into her throat as she swung back toward her sister. “It’s too dangerous.” Risking herself was one thing. Getting her sister mixed up in this deadly plot? Unthinkable.

Bronwyn jerked her hands away, crossed her arms, and stared her sister down. “I’m not letting you run off into danger alone. Especially not with that one.” She pointed an accusing finger at Malik. “I’m coming. You’ve carried too many burdens by yourself for too long. No longer. I want to help.”

“But—” Ceridwen began, her panic rising with her voice.

“Let her come,” Malik interjected. “Surely I can keep two young women safe.”

Bronwyn pursed her lips but stayed silent.

Ceridwen looked between the two of them, and her shoulders slumped with a weary sigh. She couldn’t win against them both. “Fine.” Letting Bronwyn get herself in danger once they got to the capital was another matter, one she’d find a way around. Truthfully, it would be nice to have company, if even just for the benign part of the journey. She’d never traveled alone, especially not with a man, and having Bronwyn with her might help on that front. However… “What are we going to tell Father?” Her absence might not be noticed since she already resided at the manor with Lord Winterbourne, but their father was bound to notice if his oldest daughter didn’t come home.

Bronwyn shrugged. “I’ll think of something.”

As if that were a viable plan. Ceridwen gave her a withering look.

“Whatever it is, do it quickly,” Malik said.

“I’ll keep an eye on your family personally until I receive word of your return,” Jackoby promised. “And before you go, you must pack your things. You’ll need clothes in the capital if nothing else. I can send Kent to assist your sister. Besides, Gwen would flay me alive if I let you leave before she could give you a proper farewell or if I let you out looking like that.” He appraised her from head to toe with raised brows.

A touch of heat flamed Ceridwen’s cheeks. He was right on both counts. She’d fled out the front door without thinking once before, and she couldn’t do that to them again. Plus, she really needed to clean and change, but time wasn’t on their side. “The train…”

“The train to the capital only runs twice a week,” Malik said, pacing a narrow trail a few feet away. “We’ve missed today’s, but perhaps we can hire a carriage to take us to the next city south and catch one from there. It would be faster than waiting around. Plus it will give you time to ready yourselves.”

Twice a week.Ceridwen barely held back a squeak. How silly that she lived here and didn’t know the train schedule to the capital. But then, after Mother’s death, none of them wished to ever return there. How strange a turn life took, sending her back once more.

“Fine,” Ceridwen agreed. “If that’s the fastest way, we’ll do it. Now, let’s all get to it.”

Chapter 44

Drystan

The capital was worse than he remembered. Factory smoke and the stench of human waste tainted the air. Hollow, hungry faces watched him as he passed, despite his efforts to dress as nondescript as possible and shield much of himself in a heavy cloak as he’d done when in Teneboure. The looks would only worsen if they knew who he was. The station attendant in Teneboure had nearly fainted when he, as Lord Winterbourne, purchased a ticket to the capital. The conductor had been just as bad, practically tripping over himself.

The worst part of the return, so far, was the number of missing person signs tacked to building walls and lampposts. The knowledge of what led to those disappearances and the certainty that the victims would never be found turned his stomach. But it also steeled his resolve. That was why he returned, why he ventured just outside the station and hired a carriage to take him to the castle.

---