Page 81 of Prisoner of Darkness and Dreams
I turn to see how Damia, close friend to said prince, is enjoying this topic, only to see she’s risen from the table and is making her way out of the dining room.
“If you’ll excuse me, ladies, my lord,” I duck my head in cheerful farewell as I make to follow her.
“My Lady,” I call after her in the corridor. “Are you done with lunch?”
She reels around. “I’m done with you wasting our time.”
I stare at her, not quite open-mouthed, but certainly surprised enough to not have an immediate answer. Does she really not see the value in taking the temperature of the nobles? Since we have no way of getting to the regent, it seems like the best possible use of our time. Why is she so annoyed? I try to defuse the tension with humor, smiling.
“Is this about Lady Frione?” I ask. “Because you know I only have eyes for you, darling.”
It doesn’t work. Her green eyes flash, and I’m suddenly glad we left Barb back in our room.
“I’m talking about the way you’re risking everything by bringing up—” she glances around and then moves a few steps closer to me, lowering her voice. “By bringing up ourmutual friendany chance you get.”
I smooth my jacket beneath my hands. Fine, if she won’t be soothed with honey, then vinegar will have to do.
“Listen, mylady,I don’t know why you’re looking for reasons to be angry with me, but you’re smart enough to realize that ourmutual friendneedsmorefriends, especially in Elmere. And we’re in the best position to feel out who might be open to an alliance. Forgive me for thinking ahead.”
I stare defiantly at her hard, beautiful face. The sharpness in her gaze is still there, but her lips part, softening the set of her mouth.
“Let me do the thinking for both of us,” she says, her eyes sweeping over me. “You just concentrate on playing your part and looking pretty enough to keep these humans distracted.”
“Interesting. A few days ago, you didn’t even believe I could pass as a baron,” I say, raising a playful eyebrow.
“I should have realized your arrogance and self-importance make you perfect for it,” she throws back.
I grin, enjoying this much more than her anger a few moments ago. I sketch a mocking bow.
“But, my darling, Iamimportant. Or have you forgotten I’m here at the future queen’s request?”
Her smile fades. “That’s exactly what I’m worriedyou’veforgotten. We have to put our mission first,” she murmurs. “That’s what matters now. Worry about the future later.”
“Then let’s live in the now,” I say, reaching out and taking her hand. She stiffens at my touch, but as I pull her closer, she relaxes. “Everyone else will be at lunch for at least another two courses. It’s a perfect time to take a turn about the gardens and see if we can find a way in for the others.”
She blinks, startled, then gives me a businesslike nod.
“That’s actually not a bad idea.”
As she leads me down the corridor toward the gardens, I laugh.
“What’s so funny?” she asks.
“That almost sounded like a compliment.”
She makes a dismissive chuff as she peers through a window beside an external door. We’ve been told we can only access the front gardens of the palace, due to increased security around the regent’s wing, but that’s precisely the route Prince Leonidas told Damia he took when he escaped last time. We’re hoping to use it again.
“The patrol’s just about to go around the corner,” she mutters. “There’s five sets of guards, and they make a full circuit of the perimeter every twenty-three minutes. That gives us about four and a half minutes to get out of sight of the palace walls before the next patrol passes this door.”
“You’ve been paying attention,” I say, not bothering to hide my impressed tone. She fiddles around with her skirts, and I realize she’s hiking them up and tucking them in her belt for easier movement, exposing a stretch of smooth, brown leg. I swallow, but I don’t have time to dwell on the pleasant sight because she’s already picked the lock on the door and is easing it open.
“Now,” she whispers, pushing on the door and tugging me down the steps into the grounds.
We steal across the grass until we hit a conveniently placed orchard and duck between the trees groaning with apples. There’s enough shadows here beneath their branches for me to shroud us without it looking strange to a passerby. I use the opportunity to catch my breath, and Damia glances at me, amused, her breathing annoyingly even.
“Where are we headed then?” I ask, peering through the trees.
“The statue of Winnivus. It should be to our right, up against the outer hedge.”
