Page 62 of A Cage of Crystal

A memory snapped into place, of him changing his clothing and finding the crystal in his trouser pocket. The same confusion had struck him then. He hadn’t understood why he had it or where he’d gotten it until—like now—his memories returned.

Now he remembered it all.

He recalled Cora standing frozen in the tower room, her fingers clutched around the crystal. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t responded to the sound of her name or the feel of his touch. Not until he’d wrenched the crystal from her hand and shook her by the shoulders once more. He must have tucked it in his pocket to free his hands then. And when he’d found the crystal while he’d been getting changed, he’d moved it to his waistcoat pocket with the intention of returning it to the tower.

But…he’d forgotten. Twice now.

The thought chilled his bones.

With a screech, Berol nipped at his fingers, then raked a talon over the back of his hand. He winced and dropped the crystal to the ground. It rolled toward the bed, and he watched it settle at the corner of the rug. Berol screeched from the windowsill again, wings splayed.

“Hush, Berol,” he said to her, tone soothing. His eyes remained locked on the crystal. He still couldn’t fathom how he’d forgotten about it. Sure, he had his reasons for being distracted, but forgetting that he’d tucked a strange object into his pocket? It had to be enchanted. Possibly triggered by touch.

He frowned, stepping closer to it. Berol screeched once more, but he held out a hand to quiet her. “I know, Berol. It’s dangerous. I won’t touch it. I just need to tuck it somewhere safe until I can tell Cora about it.”

Saying Cora’s name wrenched his heart, but he was too preoccupied with the mysterious crystal to linger over his pain. Instead, he kept his attention on the stone, afraid to blink lest it somehow flee his memory like it did before. Inch by inch, he crept toward the crystal as if he were stalking prey on a hunt. He untied his white silk cravat from around his neck and stooped over the stone. Careful not to let his skin touch the object, he lifted it with the cloth.

He faced the window, ready to fold his cravat fully around the crystal, when shards of light exploded around him. The light from the setting sun had caught upon one of the facets. The glittering effect was…beautiful. He’d never seen that happen when the duke had carried it atop his cane.

His fear and trepidation fled his mind. What had he been so worried about a moment before? Entranced by the dance of amber light, he lifted the crystal higher, let the waning sunlight catch more of its facets…

Berol let out a sharp cry, startling him as she launched off the sill and into the room.

“Right,” he said, closing his fist around the crystal and smothering it in the folds of his cravat. But when he looked back at his surroundings, all he saw was blinding white light.

28

Mareleau had never arranged a bouquet with her own hands, and as she assessed the sparse collection of greenery and wild poppies she’d picked from the castle lawn, she realized there was a very good reason for that. If she’d seen such a sad spectacle gracing the vases at Verlot Palace, she’d have insisted upon whoever had made it be fired at once. But this wasn’t Verlot. Nor was it the slightly more modest Dermaine. This was Ridine Castle, and the tiny bundle of drooping flowers was the brightest thing about it.

The bouquet sat in a cracked porcelain vase upon a small table. The table itself was nestled in a narrow courtyard surrounded by overgrown shrubs outside the kitchen. An array of half-melted candles lit the table’s surface, illuminating two sets of empty dishes. Soon the dishes would be ladled with food, and Mareleau’s mission on behalf of her brother-in-law would be complete. With the last vestiges of the sunset painting the sky from pink to indigo, the end result was rather charming, if she did say so herself.

Mareleau jumped at the loud clatter that carried through the open kitchen windows. All right, so the noise was less than charming, but the location was the best she could find. Inside the kitchen, dozens of cooks and servants bustled about in preparation for the king’s dinner. One she’d be expected to attend, same as she had every night she’d been here.

A pang of envy struck her as she glanced at the quaint dining area she’d arranged. While it wasn’t the most elegant of spaces, she regretted that she wouldn’t get to enjoy the fruits of her labor. Her gaze landed on the bottle of wine sitting beside two glasses. That was perhaps the most tempting part of the whole setup. Seven gods, she missed wine. She was so desperate for a sip, it made her sick to her stomach. Literally. Or…maybe the sudden nausea was more due to hunger. Regardless, she knew she couldn’t imbibe, for her ladies were watching, and they’d report back to her mother and father. Until her ruse was up, she needed to act like the epitome of the careful, pregnant queen. That way, when she confessed to the surprising return of her moon cycle, she’d be blameless. Her father would have to carry that guilt, for she was fully prepared to lament over the castle’s agonizingly chilly drafts and the musty air quality.

“It’s lovely, Your Majesty,” Breah said, coming up beside her.

Ann nodded in agreement. “You have a knack for creating elegance, Majesty.”

The girls were pandering to her, but Mareleau didn’t care. Despite her shoddy attempts at setting up a romantic meal, she couldn’t ignore the pride flaring in her chest. She’d never done anything like this before. Perhaps she could do it for Larylis when she returned home to him.

The thought warmed her heart, and a soft smile curled her lips. Before her longing could dip into sorrow, she adopted a flippant tone and said, “It beats picking out hideous linens with Master Arther. Come. Let us prepare for dinner.”

Sera released a groan. “I suppose I should fetch my lady from her horrible tower.”

Mareleau cut a glare at the girl. She was so used to Sera’s presence, she kept forgetting the girl was supposed to be serving the princess. “Sera, you should have readied her for dinner an hour ago.”

Sera shifted from foot to foot. “I…I figured you were more in need of assistance than she, Majesty.”

“Yes, well,sheis supposed to attend a romantic meal with my brother. You can’t have her looking like a pauper, for it will surely be the ruination of my efforts. Go get her cleaned up at once.”

Sera’s shoulders slumped, but she sank into an obedient curtsy before shuffling out of the courtyard and into the kitchen. Mareleau and her ladies followed just behind, turning toward the keep as they exited into the hall. She halted in place, glancing in the opposite direction to where Sera was heading for the North Tower Library stairwell. A strange feeling fluttered in her chest, and it wasn’t entirely pleasant. She wasn’t sure what to call it, but it might have been something akin to sympathy.

“The two of you go with her,” she said to Ann and Breah before she could stop herself.

Her maids stared back at her as if she’d lost her mind. And maybe she had.

Breah’s tone turned simpering. “Why, Majesty?”

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