Page 77 of The Huntsman's Heart
I’m only just quick enough to dart into the dark corner when she pushes open the dressing room door and withdraws a basin and cloth for Melantha’s evening wash. She sets these on the dressing table, turning from the room and leaving the door ajar.
I don’t dare peek. I can still hear her moving about the room, turning down the bed, gathering coals from the fireplace for the bedpan, and fluffing the queen’s pillows.
Then the chamber is quiet. I’m frozen, not certain whether to move or stay. The maid preparing the room tells me Melantha will come to bed soon. But I haven’t finished searching.
The moment I decide to move again there are more footsteps at the door, and this time the distinctive stride tells me who it is before she enters. I dart behind the door, pressing my back to the wall, peering through the crack. Melantha enters her roomsand goes straight to the dressing table. Her maid hurries in, taking down Melantha’s hair, getting her nightgown.
I think I will be discovered for a moment as the woman pushes the door open and I am squeezed against the wall. She doesn’t seem to notice, though, simply getting the garment and taking it out to my stepmother.
It would not be hard to draw my knife and kill them both before a footman or guard comes running. Even if they come, what will they do to me when I am already dead?
But this maid doesn’t deserve to die at my hand. And if I kill Melantha and leave her alive, she will take the blame for the queen’s death and be killed all the same.
I stay where I am, fuming at having her so close yet being unable to act. My fingertips curl around the hilt.
Melantha washes her face and sets the cloth aside. As soon as she is dressed for bed, she sighs. “Leave me.”
The maid makes a quick curtsy and exits swiftly.
Is this my moment? My fingers tighten on the knife, but the maid is still close by.
Through the crack in the door, I see Melantha draw the cloth from the mirror, and I almost let out a gasp when I catch a glimpse of her reflection. The withered, sunken face bears such little resemblance to her haughty beauty that it takes me a moment to realize what I’m seeing. Then the motion as she reaches forward makes both figures move in unison and I clap my hand over my mouth.
Melantha reaches around the mirror, and then there’s the click of a latch. I tilt my head, angling for a better look at what she’s doing.
Then just like that, Melantha pulls the mirror forward to reveal a hidden compartment behind!
This must be what I was searching for. And it was right in front of me all along.
Sure enough, the queen withdraws a silver box and takes a key from a long chain around her neck.
I watch in fascination. I almost imagine I can hear the beat of the heart, though that’s impossible. Alaric’s heart doesn’t beat any more than mine does.
Yet when she unlocks the box and draws back the lid, a tremor runs through me.
Melantha looks around.
Have I made a sound?
She merely checks the door and then lifts a pale white heart into her hands, setting the box down on her table. She clutches the heart in her hand, nails digging into the pure white flesh. Then, looking at her own reflection, she chants, “Bound by flesh that once was yours,
Bend your will to my command.
Wait upon my purpose here,
To answer what I will demand.”
I almost rush from the dressing room to slit her throat then. Yet she holds his heart in her hand. One misstep, one sound to alert her, and she could crush it.
The maid taps on the door and enters. Melantha replaces the box and quickly hides the mirror. “What is it?”
“Your Majesty, there are reports of strange creatures in the town again. The hunters wish to set a guard at your door.”
Melantha frowns. “What strange creatures?”
The woman shudders. “I do not know, my lady, I heard a whispering of dead things walking the streets.” She makes the sign against evil.
“I don’t know about that, but there’s something afoot. Yes. Set the guard.”
