I | Darcy

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PART 1

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MAY 1812

If one should question, one should seek an answer.

This author has always been curious about one institution, one that has survived for decades with no help from the outside. How they do so is never the question, for women are as capable as men.

How they run the Kingdom of Sutherland from inside their walls, however, is a question that begs an answer.

Rumors, they will say, for there is no evidence that Belcourt runs Sutherland. How can they when we have the king?

But this author knows people.

And every truth starts with a question.

What is Belcourt?

Or should I say—Who is Belcourt?

“What do you think, child?” Ellise asked, folding the copy of the Sutherland Post. She rolled her head to the side when the little human beside her merely garbled sounds in response.

The child’s auburn hair was an utter mess, the small ribbon that was once clipped on top of her head was now dangling at the ends of the strands. Her hazel eyes were glimmering with amused curiosity as she held herself up on all fours on the floor.

Ellise blinked at her niece, wondering what the little creature was thinking.

“What are you doing on the floor?” the voice asked from somewhere above her. She rolled on her back and found Robert Dior, Marquess of Chester, looking down on her.

“Playing,” she replied, rolling on her knees. The swift motion caused her niece to squeal, and she frowned.

“Is she laughing?” Dior asked, coming down on his feet to peer down at the child.

“She must be. Her mouth is stretched to a smile,” she replied, handing the paper to him. “Did you see the post?”

He took the paper and rolled it with his hands. “Yes,” he replied, extending the rolled paper toward Alannah. The child reached for it and with her stout fingers, grabbed the end. Dior then slowly stood, carefully raising the rolled paper to guide the little girl to her feet. “Can she walk?” he asked.

“If she does, she has been fooling me,” Ellise replied, rising to her feet. “She does nothing but crawl.” Then she paused, frowning as the girl stood.

Alannah fell back on the floor, rolling to her side with another squeal.

“Is she crying?” Dior asked, peering down at the child.

“I see no tears. She must be faking it,” Ellise said, checking if her niece was hurt. “That is how she manipulates my brother.”

Her niece rolled back on fours and crawled toward Dior. He walked to the nearest settee and settled down. Looking around her small office, he said, “Are you not moving into Blackwood’s villa?”

“No. I found the proximity of my bedchamber here far less taxing,” she replied, walking to sit in the opposite chair, the one near the window. She crossed her leg over the other and stared at him.

It would not be fair to many handsome men to claim that Robert Dior was more gorgeous. He was not. His dark hair and dark eyes were more menacing than dashing. His tall and muscular built more intimidating than erotically attractive.

But she was comfortable around him.

They may be rivals in the eyes of those who grew up with them, always opponents in many games such as archery and fencing, but they were not. They both enjoyed challenging each other. They learned that losing to each other was just another opportunity to learn more techniques.

And they were both comfortable being alone together.

Not much could be said to many men and women.

Alannah had crawled her way to Dior and was now extending her arms up to him, begging to be picked up. She watched him study the child and reluctantly patted the girl’s head. Giving up, Alannah squealed and crawled back to her toys.

“Why is she here in Sinclair?” Dior asked.

“Her nurse has the day off. Her mother is meeting her sister downtown.” Then she motioned her head to the door. “My brother is cutting someone’s limb off somewhere.”

He crossed his leg over the other, rested his chin on the back of his hand, then turned to her. “More French are reported to be on their way to Sutherland.”

“Soldiers?”

“No, nationals.” He unrolled the paper and placed it on the table beside him. “We cannot focus on Belcourt alone.”

“We should if Belcourt is behind Sutherland’s sudden friendliness to the French,” she retorted, eyes on Alannah. The girl just bumped her head on the table. Seeing no blood and tears, she veered her head back to Dior. “I know my priorities, Dior.”

“I am not saying you do not.” They both turned when a loud bang came from Alannah’s direction. Ellise sighed and jumped to her feet when her niece started wailing. “Sometimes I think she’s blind,” she murmured, picking up Alannah. Then to her niece, she sternly said, “You saw there was a chair. It does not move, but you do. Do you understand? You move away from the chair because it cannot.”

The little girl merely cried harder.

“I think she is hungry.”

“She just ate.”

“Then she must be—”

“She is crying because she cannot express herself. She must want her mother.”

Alannah buried her face into her chest, then rubbed against it, her crying ebbing away.

Walking back to her chair, Ellise sat down with her niece sprawled over her.

“She is falling asleep,” said Dior.

She bent her neck, chin touching her chest to peer down at her niece. “Are you certain? She is not biting my shirt?”

He peered. “No, she is sucking on her thumb.”

“Get me some pillows.”

He stood and walked to the connecting door that led to her bedchamber. Soon, he emerged with two pillows, which he threw on the carpet in the middle of the room.

“You should wait until she is completely asleep.”

“I can barely breathe, Dior,” she gritted out. “She is a big child.”

“Then do it slowly.”

She did, but it caused Alannah to startle and whine. With a silent growl, Ellise fell back into her seat. Dior did the same. They waited until she thought the child was deep in slumber.

When she finally lay the girl on the carpet against the pillows, she returned to her seat and looked at Dior. “Do you have nowhere else to go?”

“No,” he said.

“Your mistress?”

“She left me.”

She frowned. “Why? Did you hurt her?”

“No.”

“Then why would she leave you?”

“She has found someone else, apparently.”

“Then you should find someone else. Or are you mourning her loss?”

“No, I do not. Why are you concerned?”

“Men who lack sexual gratification can be hard to deal with.”

“And you do not?”

“Do not need sexual gratification?”

He nodded. She scoffed. Sometimes he could be quite innocent, really. “I do not believe I need someone to give me one.”

“As do I,” he retorted. “I can pleasure myself if I need to.”

“As do I.”

“You have not been going around balls this season,” said Dior. “Your mother must be disappointed.”

“I see no point.”

His eyes went to the Sutherland Post. “What do you want me to tell her next?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Tell her about the Belles.”

---

The High Priestess was playing with her doll inside the underground chamber when Arielle walked inside, guided by an Elected. Clad in her purple cloak, the Maiden curtsied low in front of the High Priestess.

Leila looked up from her doll and asked, “What did you find?”

Arielle looked up, her light blue eyes meeting Leila’s slightly lighter globes. “The Sutherland Post and The Grimes are both owned by one entity. Her name is Sheridan Garmont.”

“A woman,” Leila said with interest.

“She is the niece of the man we killed during the attack in Everleigh.”

“The one you thought to be Leo.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“What else did you discover, Arielle?” she asked, smiling gently at the Maiden.

“She has been meeting with Robert Dior.”

“Then this man must be a Royal?”

“He might be.” Anger flashed across the Maiden’s eyes. “Now that West Blackwood is away, it is highly likely that he left Dior as the Royal Master.”

“And what does your friend Tanner say?”

“He says that not every Royal knows their fellow members. He is only familiar with the ones he has been introduced to.”

“Why do I not believe that?”

“He has been truthful to me thus far. He gave us Everleigh. And he is spying on Esther for us. He may no longer be a Royal, but he will do anything for me.”

Leila looked down at her doll, smoothed its balding head and nodded. “Speaking of your half-sister, how is she?”

A smile curled on Arielle’s lips. “She still believes she has eyes inside Belcourt through Tanner. And she is still looking for Jade.”

“Jade can never leave Belcourt.”

“I understand, Your Highness.”

“Make her the new Mistress of the Court of Flowers.”

Arielle blinked, confusion in her eyes. “But we cannot fully trust—”

“She will do,” said Leila. “She hates Esther. She will do anything to get her revenge. But she cannot step outside.”

Arielle looked doubtful, but she nodded anyway. “Of course, Your Highness. It shall be done.”

“Are the Belles faring well?”

“They are where we want them to be, Your Highness.”

“Good!” she said, smile growing wide.

“What should we do about Sheridan Garmont? Her articles are raising curiosity.”

“Watch her for now,” said Leila, rising to her feet.

“It is a challenge as it is, Your Highness. She is heavily guarded. She jumps from one estate to another. We suspect she has quite a few around Sutherland, most of them we are unaware of.”

Leila frowned, taking her doll to the dollhouse. She tucked it in bed and turned to face Arielle. From the corner of her eye, she saw her Elected, Venus, watching them closely.

“Then we must watch the person who feeds her the information.”

“It might not be Robert Dior.”

“Arielle, we know it is Robert Dior.”

“We have Soldiers watching him.”

Leila shook her head. “If he is the Royal Master, he will know we are watching. We have to do better.”

“Better?”

“Yes. Fret not, I will take care of it.” Seeing the confusion in the Maiden’s eyes, Leila giggled.

“How?” asked Arielle.

Leila turned to where Venus was silently standing, observing. The girl had been more than a friend to her. They grew up together. They were sisters. If there was anyone who could replace her as High Priestess, it was she.

Venus read what was on her mind and nodded.

Leila smiled at Arielle. “I have a plan.”

II | Spies

Ellise jumped down from the carriage in her shirt, buckskins, and boots. Her coat flew behind her as she rushed to the stairs and through the doorway of the villa. Her hair, tied tightly high above her head, swung its tail as she navigated down the corridor that led to the office.

West Blackwood left the villa for the Royal Circus to use in whatever way they saw fit. By far, they had been using it for naught but short meetings.

“I do not have much time. I am already late for the family dinner. My mother will wonder where I’ve been,” she announced to the two men sitting inside.

“Blackwood sent a missive,” said Dior. “They are on their way back.”

“With Reginald, I suppose?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“Good. They will be here in two months. I will only have to look after you children for that long.”

“You are still Darcy,” Tanner Macmier pointed out.

“And I will not be needed until I am needed once the Royal Master is here.” She turned to Dior. “I heard Napoleon is planning to enter Russia. How true is that?”

“Quite,” replied Dior. “Sutherland soldiers are being withdrawn from the side of Britain.”

“Sutherland is joining the French in Russia,” supplied Tanner. “Esther is not happy about it.”

“If she can kill her father next to stop it, please extend my gratitude,” Ellise wryly said, dragging a chair to a window.

“It is not the king who wants to side with the French,” Tanner argued. “It is the Prime Minister. For some reason, the king trusts him.”

“He has always been a puppet from the moment they overthrew Reginald. The puppeteers are the true king of this kingdom,” Ellise replied with a scoff. “What do we know about Magnus Westwell?”

“He does not hide the fact that he sides with the French. He had been working closely with Albert before the prince died, making us suspect they have been planning something. The former Mistress of the Court of Flower before Sasha was his lover,” said Dior.

“And Belcourt killed Mariam when they found out. I wonder why.”

“To threaten the Prime Minister, of course,” said Ellise. “To show him what they can do to him if he betrays them. Magnus Westwell was Mariam’s flower when she was a Belle, and they kept their affair even after she became Mistress. She must have gathered enough of his secrets, and now, Belcourt controls the Prime Minister.”

“What do you want us to do?” Tanner asked, raising his brows.

“Pay the Prime Minister more attention.” When the man nodded and said nothing else, she dryly added, “You can go now.”

Tanner sighed and jumped to his feet. He looked at Dior and then Ellise, opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but then thought better of it and gave a curt nod before leaving the room.

Dior’s eyes followed the man out the door.

“You still do not trust him,” she said.

“Yes, I do not,” he replied, turning to meet her gaze. “My mother believes I should find a wife.”

Ellise frowned. “You can barely keep a lover. How can you keep a wife?”

“The law will bind her to me. I will surely be able to keep her.”

“Why does the duchess insist on it now?”

“Because she does not like that I am being followed.”

“By Belcourt, you mean.”

“Yes.”

“Then why would she risk another life by getting you shackled?”

“Trent and Caroline’s marriage has brought them a good amount of convenience. For one, they are not being spied on.”

“That is because they were never suspected in the first place.”

“I told her the same thing, obviously.”

“And what does your father have to say?”

“He agrees with her.”

Her face crumpled. “You, married.”

“Siring an heir,” he added.

“I am certain you will enjoy the act if you find a good wife, but yes, I do agree you will find it a challenge to rear one.”

“Who says I will have to rear it?”

“And you expect your wife to do it all by herself?”

“Yes, because that is what wives—” he stopped, seeing her reaction. “I yield. I see your point.”

“Good. Who is this woman your mother wants you to marry?”

“She does have one in mind. You.”

Ellise blinked at him. “I can see why she would want me as her daughter-in-law, but I cannot see why she would want me as your wife.”

“I told her the same thing.”

“I am not even titled.”

“So was she before she married my father.”

“You have a problem, but it is not the most alarming. Set it aside for now. I am certain your mother can wait.”

“I plan to set it aside.” She stood, and he added, “I will go fencing on the morrow. Would you like to join?”

“I will have to see.”

He nodded, and she walked to the door.

“How do you do it?” he asked behind her.

“Fencing?”

“No, pleasuring yourself,” he said.

Ellise turned to study him. He looked incredibly curious, and she frowned. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “Curious.”

“Then stay curious. I refuse to divulge intimate matters, even to you.” She scoffed and shook her head. “You need a lover more than you need a wife. Go find one fast. But it cannot be Sheridan Garmont. We cannot lose her.”

He sighed and joined her to the door. “I am fine pleasuring myself thus far.”

---

Oliver St. Vincent regarded his sister with a curious look. “Have you been feeding off my corpses in Sinclair?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes and looked around the table. Her sister-in-law, Aliya, and her mother, were wearing similar curious gazes. Her father, on the other hand, was bent on his food without care.

Everyone, save for her father and brother, knew the real reason she was staying in Sinclair. For her mother and Aliya, they thought she was studying to become a doctor.

“You look a little pale, Ellise,” said Natalia St. Vincent, light green eyes narrowed in disapproval. “The social season has started and you are yet to grace a ball with your presence.”

“And you should be looking for a match this season instead of studying corpses in Sinclair,” added her brother. Behind his beard, she knew he was wearing a sneer. He never approved of her being Darcy.

“I do not need to find one this season,” she said. “Is that right, father?”

The large man at the head of the table looked up from his food and grinned at her, hazel eyes glimmering with adoration. “You can do whatever you want, my dear,” he said, slanting his eyes to his wife. “But you should also listen to your mother, of course.”

The young boy sitting beside her mother was looking at her with a smile. “What is it, boy?” she asked Mason.

The five-year-old child continued to smile at her, blue eyes glimmering the same way her father’s did.

“How do you study corpses?”

“I cut them, of course,” she replied.

Aliya nearly choked on her food and coughed. “Let us not talk about—”

“How?”

“I saw them off. But sometimes a knife works,” she replied.

Mason grimaced. “That sounds awful.”

“Smells awful too,” she added and stopped when her mother threw her a look. Looking back at Mason, she frowned. “What happened to your hair?”

The boy touched his shorter blond locks. “Natty,” he replied, pointing at Natalia St. Vincent.

Her mother pursed her lips. “He needed a haircut.”

“Do not let her control your hair, boy,” Oliver said to Mason.

“You let Aliya cut your beard,” countered Mason.

“You only let someone you are afraid of cut any hair on your body,” Oliver countered.

“Ollie,” said Aliya, eyes narrowed. “Mason is not afraid of Natalia.”

“Not afraid enough to call her Natty,” droned Ellise.

She was satisfied that Mason was in their care. The child’s mother, Aliya’s former maid when she was still a Belle, was trapped inside Belcourt. To this day, he was still waiting for his mother to return. While doing so, he was a good distraction for Natalia St. Vincent.

And he was doing so satisfactorily. Her mother was once more distracted by Mason, now asking the child how his lessons went, allowing Ellise to finish her food in peace.

Later, after the family dinner, Ellise sat in the playroom with Aliya. Mason was playing with Alannah on the floor, letting the little girl tug at his hair.

It took Ellise merely fifteen minutes to get bored, and she sighed, looking at her sister-in-law. “You never told me why you married Oliver.”

“I love him,” said Aliya, her beautiful face becoming more radiant as she said the words.

“You are telling me why you are still married to him,” Ellise pointed out. “Surely you did not marry him because you loved him then.”

Aliya chuckled. “There were other matters that were beneficial to me when he proposed.”

“Such ask?”

“He was willing to help me. I needed help. I had to admit that I needed one, even from a man.” Then she leaned closer and whispered, “And of course, the intimacy is another matter.”

“You mean he satisfies you in that regard?”

Aliya bit her lips and nodded. “More than I can ask for. But you did not hear that from me.” Her sister-in-law studied her with a curious look in her light brown eyes. “Why do I have a feeling that you are interested in marriage?”

“Marriage has always been interesting,” she said. “It is a different kind of war on its own.”

Aliya laughed. “I cannot say I do not agree. Every day is a different battle.”

“Two people who want to kill each other one moment, then kill for them the next. It is interesting.”

“You will understand it once you experience it.”

“Caroline said the same thing.”

Aliya smiled. “Do you have someone in mind? One you have quite taken a fancy to?”

Ellise blinked. “Not that I can tell.” She paused and they watched the children play on the floor. “How do you tell you fancy someone?”

“You pay particular attention to them, of course,” said Aliya. “When you realize they changed the standard you have set.”

“I have no standard in particular,” she said with a frown.

“Then mayhap he will become one.” Aliya faced her. “Does someone come to mind? A face?”

There was, but Ellise would never reveal that. “None,” she lied, jumping to her feet. “I should leave and study dead bodies. Enjoy the little humans.”

That evening, alone in her chambers in Sinclair, Ellise faced her open closet. She drew the clothes aside and studied the messy map of names and plans.

---

Surprisingly, and Ellise would never admit this to anyone, being Darcy was not at all as chaotic and grueling as she first believed. Everyone else did as she ordered, leaving her with nothing else to do but think and wait.

That morning proved to be the same. Her brother was not in Sinclair which interpreted to his wife having someone to look after their daughter should she find the need to go out.

If she were in Herst, she would be out in the woods hunting or out in the sea to swim. But she was not. She was trapped in Coulway until the Royal Master returned with Reginald.

Remembering Dior’s invitation, she went to his villa only to be informed that he went to Brierwell, the estate of the Duke of Remington. She ordered her carriage to take her there and sure enough, she found Dior with another Royal, Trent Durham and his wife, Caroline.

“Why are you here?” she asked Caroline.

The Countess of Chalbarth laughed. “Should I not be asking you the question?”

“Is the fencing match happening here?” she asked instead, dropping on the chaise in the parlor. “Where are they?”

“No fencing today, I’m afraid,” said Caroline. “Trent is with Robert in the library.”

“Mission?” she asked.

“Most probably,” her friend said, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. “How is your Season?”

“Good. Are you here in Brierwell because of it?”

“Yes, of course. Finally glad to be leaving Battenwell.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“Battenwell is a very nice place, but it can get lonely. I do not have much friends there.”

“But Battenwell has good woods for hunting. You can always go hunting, Caroline.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. Then she fixed her forest green eyes on Ellise. “Are you here because Robert is?”

“He invited me to a fencing match yesterday.” She looked out the window. “Do you want to go for a ride?”

“Is something bothering you?” asked Caroline, perceptive as always.

“No,” she lied. “Maybe.”

“Is your mother forcing you to find a match again?”

She would love to tell the woman she was bothered about the lack of outcomes in the current Royal missions. She wanted to ask if it would be humanly possible to kill a member of the royal family—or even a prime minister. And she was also wondering if she could change a few things as Darcy without the approval of the Royal Master.

But her friend was not the best person to discuss this with. She could not. And so she just sighed.

“You should just marry Robert.”

She blinked, taken aback. “You are not the first person to suggest that. Interesting.”

Caroline looked surprised. “I am not?”

“His mother suggested he should marry me,” she said with a shrug. “I know her reasons. Yours, however, is a mystery. Why do you suggest it?”

“The two of you seem to be the only people who can tolerate each other.”

“You are saying you cannot tolerate me.”

“No!” Caroline cried out with a chuckle. “I mean as a man and a woman.”

“My brother, who happens to be a man, can tolerate me. So does my father.”

“I am not talking about that—” her friend paused in frustration. “Never mind. Perhaps my suggestion is absurd.”

“Not entirely,” she said with a shrug. “Dior is a good candidate. Should I have a list, he would be the only name I would consider.”

Caroline’s eyes widened. “Then do it!”

“Do what?”

“Marry him.”

She blinked. “Do you like being married?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

“What about it do you like?”

“The intimate relationship,” Caroline shamelessly said with a naughty smile.

Ellise nodded. “What else?”

“I have someone I can talk to, knowing he will never divulge everything to anyone. I have someone to do my bidding,” her friend said with a laugh. “And someone to grow old with.”

“A friend.”

“Yes, that as well.”

“No, I mean you are talking about a friend.”

Caroline blinked in confusion. “What?”

“You can do all those things with a friend. Including the intimate activities if you both wish.”

Carline gaped at her. “Ellise, marriage is—”

“A relationship, yes?”

“Yes.”

“So is friendship.”

Her friend’s face was now flushed as she struggled to explain. “Yes, but—”

“I am jesting,” she said, the corner of her lips curling into a smile. “Do not look so flustered.”

Caroline laughed. “Oh, Good.” Then she added, “I missed you.”

Ellise crossed her arms over her chest. “We should go riding.”

Caroline sighed and jumped to her feet. “Perhaps we should. I have not yet visited the cabin.”

“You mean where your dead daughter is?”

Caroline’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Yes, where my dead angel is.”

“We should get flowers along the way, then.”

---

Robert looked over at Trent and his wife, catching the two as they shared a glance. Sitting across from him was Ellise, quietly eating. There was no one else around save for the four of them. Caroline’s younger sister was on a vacation with Trent’s mother and brother in Birth. The Duke of Remington had gone to Strait with the duchess to meet with friends , among them Robert’s parents. It only meant a Royal Circus meeting.

The mission their parents had to deal with were more delicate, deeper into the politics. Now that the Season had begun, they needed to get more help from both the House of Lords and House of Commons.

“Is our decision to stay a bit of a bother?” he asked when Trent and Caroline shared another look.

Trent turned to him with a dubious look on his face. Ellise had looked up, staring straight at the man. “Are we a bother?” she asked, equally curious as he.

“No, of course not,” Trent replied incredulously, his eyes darting to his wife where a silent message was surely being passed.

“Then why do I feel as though we are interrupting something?” he asked.

“Are we?” asked Ellise, looking at Caroline innocently.

“No!” Caroline said. “Whyever would the two of you think you are bothering us? You are very much welcome in Brierwell.”

Ellise looked at him. “Did you do something?”

“No.”

“Said something?”

“No.”

“Then why—”

“There is no one bothering anyone,” said Trent, flustered.

“Then we can stay?” Ellise asked.

“Of course!”

Robert frowned. “Then why do you keep looking at each other?”

“Because we—” Trent paused, then sighed. “We have been planning to stay the night in the cabin.”

Ellise turned to Caroline with a frown. “The cabin where—”

“My dead angel lies, yes,” said Caroline. “And we were about to tell you,” she added to Robert.

“You mean you meant to announce that you shall leave us here in the manor,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Is there a problem with us being alone in the manor?”

“No,” said husband and wife. “Yes,” Trent ultimately said. “We cannot leave our guests—”

“We can stay in the cabin some other day,” said Caroline.

“You should go on with your plans,” said Ellise, spooning her soup.

“Ellise and I can manage ourselves,” Robert said.

“Yes, that’s perfect, but it would be rude—”

Ellise scoffed. “Are you both thinking Robert and I may engage in something that is not friendly ?”

Caroline’s eyes widened. “N-no, of course not.”

Robert frowned at her. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“They must be thinking we are going to continue the fencing match,” she said.

Trent snorted. “No—I mean, yes, we were afraid you would do so.” He shared another look with his wife and the two of them bit their lips to suppress their laughter. Truthfully, he could not find the source of their humor.

“But it was clear Robert won earlier,” said Ellise.

“Yes, I did.”

Caroline opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself. “Very well,” she said instead. “Trent and I shall go to the cabin tonight as planned.”

“We are?”

“Yes.”

Trent glanced at Robert. “What?” he asked when the man did not say anything.

“Nothing,” his friend replied, shaking his head.

---

“They must be thinking I am a sore loser,” said Ellise later that night. They were alone in the drawing room holding a glass of bourbon. Trent and Caroline had gone to the cabin not an hour ago with no sign of the hesitation they displayed at dinner earlier.

“Considering you were a little tired earlier after your ride with Caroline, it was understandable.”

“Stop patronizing me,” she ordered, her hazel eyes looking straight at him.

“What are you thinking now?” he asked.

“Belcourt.”

“What of Belcourt?”

“It is too quiet.”

“Something must be going on.”

“Yes.”

“And I am also thinking about the Prime Minister.”

“And what he is planning.”

“With the French.”

She let out a sigh. “But most often I have nothing and it is odd. I barely have ideas coming to me nowadays.”

“Because we hit a plateau,” he reasoned. “Everyone is waiting for something to happen.”

“Which we cannot do. We have to prepare Sutherland for Reginald’s return.”

“And we are doing that.”

“Quite slowly,” she murmured as she sipped from her glass and swallowed. “I am also thinking about you.”

He blinked in surprise. “Me?”

She nodded. “And your lack of a lover.”

He rolled his eyes. “You are more obsessed with my lack of sexual relations than I am, Elle.”

She looked regal sitting in the winged chair, a candle burning not far away, washing half of her slender form in a yellow glow. Still in her buckskin and white dress shirt, looking utterly woman, Robert swore she could slay anything that may barge through the door in a glance. There was not a sign of vulnerability where Ellise St. Vincent was concerned. Sometimes, he envied her for it.

“Clearly, there is something between us that we cannot see. Your mother and Caroline both have the same idea that we should marry.”

“You mean you wish to marry me?” he asked, frowning, trying to imagine her as a wife. He could not.

“No, of course not. Since you do not have a lover, and since I have learned from both my sister-in-law and Caroline that sexual activities can help one have a better disposition, both mentally and emotionally, I suggest we reap the benefits of one and become lovers.”

Robert slowly took her proposition as calmly as he could, although his groin had an instant reaction. He carefully lifted his hand and sipped from his glass, swallowed, and let the burning sensation travel down his throat, through his throbbing heart, and further down.

“I am trying to form a very good argument, but I cannot, if I should be honest,” he pointed out.

“We have kissed before and we both liked it.”

“You were thirteen and I was fifteen when we kissed, Elle.”

“As experiment and we both found that we liked it.”

“I agree, but what you are suggesting now requires more than that.”

She shrugged. “Are you saying no?”

“If I am, will you find someone else?”

“I might, yes.” Her eyes locked with his. “Or I may settle with what I know.”

He shifted in his seat. “You mean settle with pleasuring yourself.”

“On my own, yes,” she said. “And the pillow.”

He blinked twice, then more. He took another swallow. “A pillow.”

“And sometimes the edge of the bed,” she said, a small smile curling her lips.

His eyes narrowed. “You are provoking.”

She scoffed. “You are a man after all. And you are curious how I do it.” Her eyes traveled down to his hand holding the glass. “Which is understandable. You only have one tool to satisfy yourself when alone, after all,” she said with pity.

“For the sake of argument, I am inclined to defend the male species. We have another tool we use when we pleasure ourselves.”

“You mean your mind,” she said. “Of course, you have to use it to imagine someone’s bosom.”

“Not everyone imagines bosoms.”

“Of course. Sometimes you also imagine parts lower.”

He shrugged. “Other times we imagine sounds.”

“You do?”

“Whispers, sighs, grunts…” he said with a lift of his shoulder.

“Now you are taunting.”

He smiled. “Sometimes I think about you.”

Her brow cocked high. “How?”

“Nothing in particular. Just you saying something witty.”

“You desire my mind?”

“In an odd way, I do.”

“Who else do you desire in—”

“Not many.”

“Someone I know?”

“My previous lover.”

“Then among the people in our circle, you desire me?”

“Not as often as you think. And not in the way—”

“But still enough to make you do what you do in private,” she pointed out.

He could just lie, Robert thought. But what was the use? “Yes.”

“Then there goes your argument. You can be my lover.”

He blinked away and looked out the window. It was dark outside and he could see nothing but their reflection. She was still looking at him, waiting. “Yes.”

“Yes, you are in agreement?”

“Yes, we can try.”

“You cannot tell your family, most especially your mother.”

“I would not dream of it,” he said with amusement. “If you do not tell yours.”

“Unless we wish my mother to drag you down to the nearest bishop, I shall keep mum.”

“When do you suggest we start?” he asked, thinking this was absurd. But then, it made sense. She was the perfect lover.

“Next week. Monday.”

“Will my villa be fine?”

“Of course.”

“Monday it is then.”

III | Weapons

“Our source tells us that the Prime Minister had a secret meeting with the prominent members of the House of Lords,” Ellise droned, looking at the gentlemen sitting in the room. “Are you aware of this, Your Grace?” she asked the Duke of Remington.

Caroline’s father shook his head. “No, I am not. He knows I am close to the king.”

She nodded, scanning the room, looking at the blank faces before her. She ignored her brother who was squirming in his seat, scratching his backside with a groan. “A few men from the House of Commons were also in the meeting.”

The men stiffened in their seats, their faces instantly scowling. It was widely known that both Houses of Sutherland were never chummy.

Ellise groaned inwardly because it was clear no one was aware of this piece of information that Tanner forward to her. But she had more news to tell before she could order more boring missions. “The said meeting had a few more guests.” She waited until she was certain she had everyone’s attention. “Two Maidens from Belcourt.”

“You are bloody jesting—you must be,” Oliver growled, frozen with his arm twisted to his back.

Ellise glanced at Dior, who was sitting beside his father, the Duke of Calbridge. “This is starting to look like Reginald once again,” he said.

“I agree,” said Trent, sitting beside Oliver, one leg resting over his knee. “Belcourt manipulated both Houses to dethrone Reginald.”

“After grooming the current king to take his place,” added another Royal sitting at the back.

“What do we do now?” asked another. “We should just attack the bloody place.”

“They have women soldiers who can send you to London with a single shot of their arrow,” Oliver said over the voices that were starting to echo around the room. He turned to Ellise, face suddenly serious. “Destroying Belcourt is not the answer.”

“Should we wait then?” challenged another Royal. “While the Prime Minister and Belcourt plan another coup? If Napoleon gains access into Sutherland—which is clearly what Belcourt wants—we will not only be fighting for Reginald’s throne. We will be part of a bigger war.”

Ellise crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the edge of the table, her legs crossed where she stood.

“We cannot get direct orders from the Royal Master,” she said, more to herself than to the Royals. “He is currently on a ship bound for Sutherland. Him and Reginald.”

“They will not be here for another two months,” said Trent. “We have to do something, Darcy.”

She nodded, looking at the men. “Group yourselves according to how you see fit. I do not care how you do it, so long as you can work together.”

Her brother frowned. “I do not see how that will be efficient—”

“I care not what each group can do,” she interjected, scanning the room again. “You are all weapons I can use, and I shall use you according to your strengths. I want to see sets of Royals in two days.”

“We can do it now—”

“I do not think so, gentlemen. You will all spend today and tomorrow hissing at each other. I cannot witness that. Two days. Find a group you can tolerate.”

“We need to consider each other’s—”

“As I said, find a group you can tolerate. I would rather use a weapon with coordinated parts than a perfectly polished pistol that cannot shoot because everyone thinks they are the bullet.”

The men looked at each other. Rolling her eyes, Ellise pushed away from the table. “I am not the Royal Master. You can choose not to follow me, but I should remind you that I am still Darcy and you were left in my care. Belcourt is once more scheming to take down a king, gentlemen. That king cannot be Napoleon.” She uncrossed her arms and forced out a smile. “Opera is over. And remember, I need good weapons.”

---

Robert slowed his pace when he heard Oliver St. Vincent’s voice coming from Ellise’s private chambers. The door was open, which meant the siblings were discussing trivial matters. They did not even look in his direction when he appeared in the doorway and leaned against it, waiting for the conversation to end.

Oliver, a large man, was looming over his sister, hands flat on the table, while Ellise stared up at her brother with a deadpan look in her face from where she was sitting.

“You are not listening,” Oliver was saying, tone laced with frustration. “It is our mother who is insisting that you return to the villa.”

“And you are not listening,” said Ellise. “I do not wish to stay there.” Her eyes flickered to Robert, then back to her brother. “As Darcy, I order you to step back.”

“The bloody hell you are!” Oliver exclaimed, whirling around to Robert. “Can you believe this?”

He shrugged. “She is who she says she is.”

Oliver threw his hands in the air. “You two are the perfect pair!”

“You are not the first to point that out,” said Ellise.

“No, sister, I meant the perfect pair of heads to have on my table!” Oliver retorted, grinning at them both, finger pointing at them back and forth. “I itch to slice through your brains and see where science had gone wrong. There should be an explanation to this rare condition you both share—there must be.”

Ellise rolled her eyes.

Robert, sensing the argument was over, walked into the room and settled in the chair across from Ellise’s desk. In five minutes, Oliver St. Vincent would end his rant. He would then rush out to go home to his wife and daughter.

“The condition being the lack of empathy, of frozen expressions—ah, there must be,” Oliver continued, caressing his bearded chin. He pointed at Ellise. “Yours may be hereditary. From mother’s side of the family, of course.” He turned to Robert and narrowed his eyes. “I am yet to find out. I am still studying your father.”

Robert turned to look at Ellise, brows arched. She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak, but Oliver was fast to say, “You have to convince Mother why you have to stay here longer. I am done giving excuses. Father is no help as well.”

“I will send her a missive—”

“No, you tell her on Monday.”

Her eyes flickered to Robert, and they both shared a look. “I am not available on Monday. I have plans.”

“Monday, Ellise,” Oliver said, voice serious this time.

Robert looked at the man and he was reminded once more of Everleigh. Oliver St. Vincent was not like his sister. Despite his colossal form, he was a man with a big and gentle heart. He was trained to save lives, not end them. He was never proficient with swords or pistols. While Ellise spent most of her time training with swords when they were younger, Oliver was running around with their uncle, learning how to mend broken bones. He never knew how to fight.

And that day in Everleigh, while they were being attacked, St. Vincent placed himself between another man and a rain of bullets.

While he, Robert Dior, a man trained to fight, lay frozen on the ground.

He blinked away the memories and realized Oliver had left and Ellise was walking to the door to shut it close. When she turned to face him, a slow smile crept his face. “Monday is not our day.”

She sighed and went back to her seat behind the desk. Her eyes settled on him and Robert met her gaze with amusement.

There was a glint of impatience in her eyes. “Perhaps after your family dinner.”

Her lashes caressed her skin when she blinked again. “I do not have to attend dinner. We should proceed with our plan.”

“I would rather you do not irk your mother.”

“Are you avoiding our planned tryst?”

His smile widened. “Is that what you call it?”

“What else could it be?”

---

Sasha stopped what she was doing, giving up on stitching her husband’s torn trouser to look at the man sitting across from her.

Reginald Stanhope looked old and frail, but his perfectly trimmed mustache and his piercing blue eyes were enough to make anyone bow down.

But not her.

He may be the rightful king, but he was still like everyone else. He was capable of many things. And he still craved for power. Just like all players in this game.

“You have met my son?” he asked, voice croaky, almost silent. Merely three years to his eightieth, he was deteriorating.

“Yes.”

He nodded, shifting in his lanky form in the winged chair he occupied. It still surprised her whenever he was in motion, because he barely moved at all since she met him weeks ago in London. He often complained of aching joints, yet whenever he moved, he was regal and composed.

“Your husband told me you do not agree that I should take back the throne,” Reginald said, his bushy white brows hooding his piercing blue eyes.

“Yes,” she replied with a smile. “Because you are too old.”

The corner of his lips quirked. A smile. “He also told me you have a profound fascination in the study of the mind.”

“I do.”

He shamelessly stared at her bulging abdomen. “Do you fear for your child’s future? Is that why you are taking me back? Because you hope I can return to the throne and stop the French from coming in? Despite not wanting me taking back the crown?”

Sasha covered her abdomen with her husband’s trouser. “I am returning you to Sutherland because I am hoping you can reunite with your son. He needs someone to teach him the ways of a king.”

Reginald finally chuckled. “You are hoping for my son to be king then.”

“He is far younger.” She maintained her smile while she held his gaze. “Does it bother you, Your Highness?”

“Of course, it does, young lady,” he replied. “My son is not fit to be king yet.”

She shrugged. “Of course, he is not. Which is why he would need an advisor.”

Another round of chuckle which ended into a fit of coughs. “You—” he coughed again, “Me, an advisor?”

“You have the experience. You are the best candidate.” Her eyes narrowed. “But I am only one person. My opinion does not hold much weight. And since you seem to be the kind who enjoys wearing a crown, I cannot blame you for wanting it on your head again.”

The old man scoffed. “You do not act like a duchess.”

“I was never taught how to be one,” she said with a smile. “But I am certain my husband will show me how. He is an excellent advisor.”

“You mock me.”

“To dare do so is a luxury I enjoy. You are not yet king—again.”

He looked around the cabin. They had been on the ship for merely a week, yet he had been complaining as if he was a prisoner.

“And when I become king again, it shall be my pleasure to see you bow before me, young lady.”

“For everything I went through to get you here, I deserve a far better position than bowing, Your Highness.”

“And what position would you like, young lady?”

She shrugged and stood. Her legs were aching, and she needed to stretch them again. “I am yet to decide. Perhaps I want to be the next Prime Minister.”

“What an ambitious woman!” the old man guffawed.

“Not as ambitious as you, Your Highness,” she said, chuckling.

“Blackwood also said you planned how Sutherland will be prepared for my coming.”

“Yes, I did.”

He looked doubtful, but he did not voice it out.

“With Darcy.”

“Now, that is interesting. Another woman.”

“Another Royal,” she corrected.

---

What else could it be?

Robert scoffed, his eyes on the façade of the edifice passing by the window of his carriage. They rolled past a couple walking down the pavement and he sighed.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against his seat.

His lover left him two fortnights ago because of another man, but Robert was not quite certain if he wanted another to take her place just yet. He had been quite fine without someone to warm his bed, but Ellise St. Vincent…

Now, Ellise St. Vincent was different.

She would either make it difficult or perfect.

His eyes flew open. The carriage was slowing down, turning into the familiar street that led up to his villa.

Would it change their friendship?

They kissed once. But that was too long ago. And they did it as an experiment.

That changed nothing. In fact, the kiss merely led them to gain more understanding of each other. It was their first secret together, and it still was to this day.

He moistened his lips, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and reached for the door just as the carriage drew to a stop. When it did, he jumped out and rushed straight up to his doors as his butler was opening them.

“My lord—” the old man called out, but Robert was already stalking up the staircase.

Entering his bedchamber, he stopped at the foot of his empty bed. His hands went to his hips, and he frowned. He looked around and realized the curtains were too dark.

His valet entered the room. “My lord, someone is here—”

“Pier,” he said, interrupting the young man, “What color are these sheets?” he asked.

“Blue, my lord,” said the man, walking closer. “My lord, there is a minor problem that came to—”

“Change them to white,” he ordered, frowning at the bed. “And the curtains look too green.”

“They are red, my lord,” Pier corrected, “and as I was saying, there is a matter that needs your attention—”

“Change it to something not red,” he said, whirling around, finally fixing the distraught man a look. “What is it?”

“Someone is here, my lord.”

“I said I am not accepting callers today.”

“It is not, my lord.” Pier stepped back. “Perhaps you would want to see for yourself, my lord.”

Robert followed his valet down the stairs, through the dining room, into the kitchen, and into a narrow corridor that led to the servants’ quarters. He had only traversed this path twice before: first when he first came into the villa, and second when he tried to hide from his mother years ago.

“Can this person not be brought to me?” he asked the valet.

Pier shook his blond head slowly. “No, my lord, I am afraid not.”

Making no more comment, he followed the young man into a room. There were two beds on each side of the room. One was empty, the other was crowded. Three maids were bent over someone lying there.

At their entry, the three maids jumped to their feet, alarm on their faces. The housekeeper threw Pier a sharp look before saying, “My lord, you need not have come. We have contacted someone to take away—”

“You are harboring a sick stranger in my household, Mrs Brown, when I have been clear from the start that I want nothing to do with that,” he said, stepping closer, hands behind him.

The maids bowed their heads.

“Step aside,” he ordered.

They reluctantly did, giving Robert a view of the bed. And then he saw why his servants found the need to take the stranger in.

It was a child.

IV | The High Priestess

The carriage drew to a stop outside Dior’s villa. Ellise jumped out and stopped to watch a slender woman in a black dress standing outside the villa merely a few paces away, overseeing two footmen carry boxes from a nearby carriage. The woman’s brown skin glowed in the afternoon sun and her face lit up into a bright smile when she caught Ellise watching her. She waved her gloved hand in greeting just as a little girl ran out the door and pulled at her hand.

“Miss St. Vincent,” Mr Warren, Dior’s aging butler, called from the door he held open at the top of the front steps.

She moved and continued up the stairs and walked through the doorway. “You have new neighbors, Mr Warren,” she said, pulling at her gloves and tucking them in the pocket of her breeches.

“Yes, Miss,” the butler said. “They arrived this morning.”

“What happened to the old couple?”

“Moved to the south, Miss.”

“Hmm,” she said, “Odd.”

“Right this way, Miss St. Vincent,” said Mr Warren.

The butler did not have to guide her, but she allowed the man, her thoughts running to several things.

It was Monday. Did Dior’s short missive mean they had to fulfill their agreement at this hour because he knew she had dinner to go to later? Or was it something else?

She frowned when the butler guided her straight upstairs.

Was he leading her to Dior’s bedchamber? Then her first guess must be right.

She cleared her throat, looked down at her clothes, and clucked her tongue. She should have at least put on a dress. She heard from Caroline that men find it thrilling to unlace a corset. Making sure Mr Warren was not looking, she reached for the tail of her hair and sniffed. She should have also taken a bath.

“Doctor St. Vincent has also arrived,” said Mr Warren, stopping Ellise from smelling her collar.

She skidded to a stop. “Oliver?”

“Yes, Miss,” said the man, pausing outside a door. “Is something the matter.”

“Why would he be here?”

The butler merely smiled and pushed the door open. Extending his arm through the doorway, he bowed.

With a frown, Ellise stepped into the room and just as Mr Warren said, her brother was inside, hunched over the giant bed. At the foot of the bed was Dior, who turned when he saw her.

She cocked her brows at him in question, closing the door behind her.

“Good, you are here,” murmured her brother, still hunched over something—or someone—on the bed.

She tore her eyes away from Dior and scanned the room. This was not his bedchamber. She could tell because it did not have his scent. Her eyes landed on the bed and she frowned. Her brother was blocking the view, so she walked over and she snapped her head back to Dior in question when she saw the pale child lying on the bed, the lower part of her left leg being wrapped in a long strip of bandage by Oliver.

The girl’s light blue eyes rolled down her nose to stare at Ellise.

“That’s just my sister,” Oliver murmured to the girl, “She’s human. Fret not.”

The girl’s dirty blond hair was splayed around her head, her sickly frame almost nonexistent underneath the covers.

Ellise slowly walked beside Dior and turned to him.

Following Oliver’s order, neither of them spoke, but her piercing gaze was demanding answers.

He sighed and lifted one hand to hold her arm and guide her to the door.

“Don’t worry, darling, they’re just going out to talk,” said Oliver to the girl.

Ellise caught the reassuring smile Dior sent the girl as he led her away and out of the room.

“Who is that?” she demanded the moment the door closed.

“She says her name is Leila,” he replied, letting go of her arm.

“And?” she asked, peering up at him.

“She says she is from Belcourt.”

Ellise blinked. She took a step back to assess if Dior was jesting. “She was sent here to spy on you.”

He nodded.

“Did you confirm it?”

He shook his head. “She told me a different story.”

“What story?”

He looked down the corridor and turned. She followed him into another room five doors away from where the Belcourt child was in. At their entrance, they saw three maids putting down the red curtains.

“Continue that later,” ordered Dior. The three women exited the room, heads bowed, and closed the door.

“This is your room,” Ellise said, staring at the curtains.

“Yes,” he said, walking to another door subtly hidden to the right of the giant white bed.

She followed him into a secret room and waited while he lit the lamp. “Why are you changing the curtains?”

“The room is getting too drafty,” he replied as the lamp ignited and warm yellow light spread around the small room. It looked like a study, only that it looked too perfect and unused. “This way,” he said, gesturing with his head.

“Warning on—” He was not able to finish because her foot already tripped on the uneven floorboard. She steadied herself on the table, head bent to check her shoe. “Sorry for that,” he said, offering his hand.

She just stared at it and straightened to full height. “This is a dilapidating room, Dior,” she said as he dropped his hand and walked to the corner of the room.

“I know,” he absently said as he pulled at the shelf and it swung open, revealing another dark room. “But it serves its purpose.” Turning to her, he offered his hand again. “This time you have to take my hand.”

“Why?”

“Because I would hate to see you fall.”

“Fall how—” He did not let her finish and grabbed her hand, clucking his tongue.

“Careful,” he said, stepping through the doorway, pulling her into the room and almost against him. “Do not move.”

“You are standing too close.” Her voice echoed around them, the light almost too blinding.

“Because this is the only space we have.”

She frowned, looking down. And then she realized they were standing on a platform. She looked around and realized the platform was hanging in midair. “Dior, this is—”

“Hold this,” he said, handing her the lamp. When she took it, he reached to close the door. “Don’t move,” he said above her as he reached for the rope tied to the side.

She looked up at him and moistened her lips. “You know I hate heights,” she gritted out.

A small smile twitched on his lips. “I know.”

And then the jerk came. Her heart leaped from her chest and she leaned closer against him as the platform slowly descended. She snapped her head up, scowling at the squeaking pulley somewhere above them. “This is bloody insane.”

“This is how I enjoy my privacy,” he murmured, his face filled with concentration while his arms worked with the ropes.

Finally, the platform touched ground and Ellise stepped away from him, wiping her palm on her breeches. He took the lamp from her, his fingers lightly brushing against hers. And then he moved away to push open another door that led to another small room which housed nothing but a chair, a lamp, and a small table. And hundreds of books piled on the floor against the wall where a giant board with names and dates hung.

It was Dior’s back closet , Ellise thought, walking over to the board.

She heard him set the lamp on the table, his shadow looming over her on the wall. “Do you like what you see?” he asked as she stared at his work.

“I see things I’m willing to debate on, but that’s not why we are here,” she replied, turning to face him. He was leaning against the edge of the table, arms crossed over his chest. He was not wearing a waistcoat. He only had on a white dress shirt tucked in his trousers, the sleeves rolled high just below his elbows.

“Did she stumble into your doorsteps?”

“Yes. The maids found her unconscious outside the side entrance yesterday.”

“And you only called for me now.”

“Yes. Because I had to check a few matters first.” She waited for his next words. “I had to have my men search the surrounding area for any Belcourt spies before I could invite you here.”

“To protect me or something else?”

“Both,” he said. “If Belcourt sent this child here, then they must believe I am the Royal Master. Or they have already confirmed I am a Royal. Either way, you cannot be seen entering my villa. That’s why I had to call for your brother first. You are studying to be a doctor, after all. You are his apprentice. Or so everyone thinks.”

She rolled her eyes. “And your other reason?”

He smiled, a small one, just enough to make a drastic change on his face. He was a dashing devil, Ellise thought, if he only knew how to use it wisely. “Today is Monday.”

Somehow, the word caused her heart to pick up pace and race against her chest. Her eyes locked with his.

He blinked and said, “You now have a good reason not to go to that dinner.”

“We cannot do it tonight,” she said, stepping forward. “We have a bloody child from Belcourt under your roof. We need to think of how to deal with her.”

He slowly nodded, his eyes shifting from her eyes down to her mouth. Then back again. “Next week has a Monday.”

Ellise narrowed her eyes at him. Then she blinked away, turning around to face the board, a small smile forming on her lips. “How did she get here?”

“You mean her story.”

“Yes.”

“She says she escaped through the forest.”

“Sasha barely escaped Belcourt, and it was not even through the forest. There are watchtowers everywhere. Whoever is running Belcourt must be getting dense to think we would believe this child.”

“She has an innocent charm about her, I agree.”

“Do not fall for it,” she murmured, facing him again. “Have you investigated on your new neighbors?”

“I have. A widow and her little girl from Hartmour. Husband died in Trafalgar.”

“A young widow.”

“Yes.”

The silence rang in her ears as their eyes met once more. “She’s beautiful. I saw her.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, his eyes narrowed just slightly. “She is?”

“She is conveniently close.”

“Are you suggesting I should turn her into a lover and spy on her?”

“No, I am suggesting you should investigate her further because it is such a marvelous coincidence that your new neighbor arrived merely a day after a child from Belcourt landed in your doorsteps,” she snapped. “As to your lover, that has already been determined.”

His chuckle rumbled around the room. “I am investigating her further.”

“And tell Sheridan Garmont she has to increase her security. If Belcourt is finally making a move, she may be in danger.” Then she stopped because he was frowning at her. “What is the matter?”

“Leila is a child, Elle.”

“I know.”

“And we have to be careful how to deal with her. We cannot treat her like how we would any of the ladies from Belcourt.”

“You mean we should give her toys and expect her to give us her utmost loyalty?”

“Her injuries are real. She has a broken leg and scratches on her back. She could very well be telling the truth.”

“You are saying you believe that she escaped Belcourt and found you—the same man who had Belcourt spies following him months ago?”

He sighed. “We need to treat her like how a child should be treated.”

“You mean we should manipulate her into hating Belcourt for making her believe that the prison she had been in all her life is heaven?”

He sighed. “I mean we should—”

“A child can still be a monster, Robbie,” she said, using his old moniker. “Monsters know no age.”

He shrugged. “We could debate on that, but I prefer to save it for later.” He pushed away from the table and straightened to full height.

“Sometimes you act like my brother.”

“And sometimes I think you are only trying to provoke me,” he shot back, brow arched in challenge.

Ellise stepped closer and leaned in. Looking up at him, she smiled. He met her gaze with a taunting smirk. And then she grabbed the lamp behind him and turned to the door. “Let us see how good this child is, shall we?”

As she turned, his hand caught hers and he tugged, just hard enough to make her turn. His face was serious as he stared into her eyes. “No barbaric interrogations in my household.”

She rolled her eyes. “I do not intend—”

“No barbaric interrogations to a child,” he rephrased.

She scoffed. He held her gaze, a penetrating force that compelled her to reluctantly nod. “Then are you going to take her somewhere—”

His eyes narrowed. “No barbaric interrogations to a child anywhere .”

“Now, that is something we should discuss as—”

“I cannot be your lover if you cannot respect my authority.”

“Authority that you should not shove down my throat—”

“I respect your authority as Darcy and as my friend.”

“Thank you. I am yet to decide if I should reciprocate.”

He scoffed in disbelief, but he broke into a smile when she did. Then she went still. She was so used to how he looked, but ever since she entertained the thoughts of him being her lover, she began to see him as one. And the thought brought a shiver down her spine and a tingling sensation at the pit of her stomach.

She realized his smile had slowly died down as his gaze searched hers before slanting down to her mouth again.

Ellise stepped back just as he did.

“No barbaric—”

“Shut up, Dior. I know how to deal with a child.”

---

“And how did you escape?” Ellise asked the girl sitting in the giant bed.

The child’s gaze was almost unnerving, and Ellise frowned. She could very well be staring straight at a full-grown adult who had seen enough of the world. Yet there was also an innocence about her—a discomfort.

“Why are you asking?” Leila asked, voice that of a child, smile that of a conniving angel. “Doctor Oliver said you are here to assist him. It means you are his apprentice.”

She saw her brother open his mouth to speak from beside the bed, but she threw him a look. He was done with his task and he should leave this matter to her.

Titling her head to the side, she said, “I am, but—”

“Then you are not yet a doctor.”

“Yes, and—”

“Then it explains why you ask the wrong questions,” Leila said, eyes jumping from her to Dior. “Is her presence necessary?”

Dior’s hand went to settle on Ellise’s shoulder, squeezing it before he stepped away to walk closer to the bed. “Miss St. Vincent is as capable as Doctor Oliver, Leila. And like Doctor Oliver, she wants nothing but your safety and fast recovery.”

“I will recover soon. I don’t want anyone else here.”

“I did not realize someone else owns this estate, Dior,” Ellise said, eyes never leaving Leila.

“She has been through a traumatic time. She is not well—” Oliver started to say but both Ellise and Leila said, “No.”

“She looks terribly fine,” Ellise said just as Leila intoned, “I am fine.”

They looked at each other, trying to read each other’s thoughts, both of them hunters staring straight at their prey. “Are you part of the Royal Circus, sir?” Leila asked, her gaze on Ellise, her question directed at Dior. When Ellise did not say a word, the child veered her gaze to him. “I have heard much about the Royal Circus.”

Dior only frowned at the child with curiosity, tilting his head to the side, his hands deep in his pockets. Ellise waited until Leila grew impatient and threw her and Oliver another look. “You are not leaving, are you?”

“They are my friends,” said Dior. “They know people who can help you find a better home.”

“You mean another orphanage.”

“Doctor Oliver knows many people who can help you once you have recovered. Miss St. Vincent will assist him as well.”

Panic crossed the girl’s light blue eyes. “But I cannot go anywhere—”

“But we can also find you appropriate help if your story is indeed true.”

Leila scowled. “You do not believe me.”

Dior shrugged. “I may or may not. I may know about the Royal Circus or I may not.”

Ellise crossed her arms before her, watching as the child’s gaze wavered. Leila moistened her cracked lips. “I am not from the orphanage.” When no one said a word, she swallowed. “I mean to say I am not from the Common Court, the orphanage of Belcourt.”

Dior frowned but said nothing. Oliver shifted uncomfortably on his two feet, looking concerned for the child. Ellise merely waited because that’s all she could do. She could not impose her authority as Darcy on this child, nor could the girl discover anything more.

Leila moistened her lips again. Then her right hand went to rest over her bandaged right leg, the one with the broken bone. “I am from somewhere deep in Belcourt. They call it the Palace. It is where the members of the High Court take residence, as well as the Elected children, the ones groomed to replace the Maidens and the High Priestess.”

Ellise blinked, restraining her surprise.

“Things went out of control in the Palace and I escaped with the intention of finding you, sir, because I know you are a member of the Royal Circus.”

“You are one of the Elected children,” Dior concluded.

Leila threw her injured leg another look before she looked up, eyes strong and confident. And something else was there—a fire of fury. “I was the High Priestess.”

V | The Calm

The sea was calm that day. The sky finally opened after the two-day storm. Many onboard savored the bright sun by stepping out of their cabins, walking down the decks, silently glad they were not lifeless debris floating in an open ocean.

Sasha and West were inside a large cabin, sitting around a small table where tea and biscuits were laid out, half-consumed. Across from the couple sat Reginald, quiet. For two weeks now, the former king was naught but impatient. He wanted to reach Sutherland as soon as possible.

But the ocean was his enemy. And it was not posing more problems than Reginald had anticipated. The two-day storm had delayed them for almost a day. And they still had more than a month left before they reached Sutherland.

West once complained to his wife that he felt like they were taking care of a child, to which she only laughed, reminding him that Reginald had waited years for this to happen.

“How are they going to do it?” Reginald asked, breaking the quiet of the cabin.

“Prepare Sutherland?” Sasha asked.

“Prepare the people for my arrival, yes,” the man said, nodding. His dark blue eyes bore into hers. “Kill Louis?”

“No, of course not, Your Highness,” West replied. “The Circus will play the same game Belcourt and Louis played to take you out.”

As the former king regarded them with a proud, curious look, Sasha added, “We have gained control over the Sutherland Post and The Grimes.”

The man slowly narrowed his eyes. “You are going to expose Louis.”

“Not entirely,” said Sasha. “We are only going to give them a story.”

“Fabricate a story, child?” the man growled. “Lies sent me scampering out of Sutherland. I shall not let it bring me back. What do you plan to do? Make me the victim? I will never take anyone’s pity!”

“You are not a very easy man to like, Your Highness.” The man scowled at her, and Sasha shared a secret smile with her husband, adding, “We will not make them like you. That requires more

time, I believe, “ veering her bluish gray eyes back to Reginald. “We are simply going to tell them the truth.”

Reginald frowned. “How? People hardly believe the truth of a man they despise, child.”

“Yours is not the only story to tell. Belcourt also has one.”

“You are going to expose Belcourt?” the man asked, looking doubtful.

“We are doing more than that,” she replied.

Reginald let out a scoff. “You think the people will believe you?”

“Some will, yes,” West said.

“People love to hate, Your Highness, as much as they like to fight for justice,” said Sasha. “For them to fight those who violate, they first must have hate.”

“You plan to make them hate Belcourt.”

“Oh, they already do. Their wives, their daughters do. They hate every woman who came from Belcourt,” said Sasha. “We simply have to give them more reason to express that hate. And for those who truly care, those who learn about the children and the others trapped inside, the truth will drive them to take action.”

“You are turning against Belcourt. It was once your home.”

“Yes. And I wish for the other women to turn against Belcourt.”

“It will be a bloody revolution!”

“The truth does that, does it not?” she wistfully asked. “When it contradicts everything you believed in, the truth can cause quite a turmoil.”

“And that is where you come in, Your Highness,” said West. “To be the calm after the storm.”

Reginald shook his head but said nothing more.

---

Leila regarded Oliver St. Vincent with curious eyes. She had only met one man her entire life, and that was Albert, the man who taught her everything. Albert was bigger than the ladies in Belcourt, but this man—this Oliver St. Vincent—was larger. Almost humongous.

But his hands were gentle. And he told her terrible stories that she found humorous.

He was married to Aliya, and Leila wondered how much Oliver St. Vincent knew about Belcourt. Was it true that he was part of the Royal Circus? Surely, apart from serving as their doctor, Oliver St. Vincent served more purpose. He was there during the Everleigh attack. He knew where they took Leo Stanhope.

She blinked as Oliver looked up and smiled at her. “You remind me of my wife,” he said.

“How so?”

He shrugged. “She’s from Belcourt. Paid her way out, of course. And without my help at that, child.”

Leila frowned at Oliver St. Vincent, curious at the pride in his voice. “And why do I remind you of her?”

“She was fifteen when she entered Belcourt.”

“I am twelve. I see no similarity. And I was a day old when I came to Belcourt.”

“Yes, yes,” said Oliver. “But you have the same look in your eyes as when I saw her when she was a Belle,” he said. “Pride. So much of it. And detached, too.”

“Aliya does not look detached.”

“Ah, so you know my wife,” he said, grinning as though he caught her with something. “You must be telling the truth then.”

Leila’s jaw tightened. “I am telling the truth. I was the High Priestess. I know everything about Belcourt.”

“Of course, you do, child. Of course, you do,” murmured Oliver, frowning at her leg.

“You do not believe me.”

“I believe you came from Belcourt.”

“You do not believe I was its ruler.” She looked him up and down. “You cannot believe a child could hold such prominent position.”

“Oh, no, darling,” said Oliver, laughing. “My daughter is a tiny little thing compared to you and she has power all over us.”

“You are mocking me.”

Oliver merely chuckled. “I do not, Leila.”

“I am nothing like your wife. Or your daughter.”

“Of course,” he said, throwing her a smile as he wrapped her leg with a fresh bandage. “Because you were High Priestess.”

“And your wife is naught but a traitor.”

“Of course, she is. She chose love over Belcourt. Chose her past over being a Belle.”

“Her past.”

“You did not know? We were friends before she came to Belcourt. That is how our romance flourished.”

“You have many friends, Doctor.”

“Of course, I do. I also happen to have many enemies.”

“Truly? Who?”

“The drinks—brandies, for one.”

When she only frowned, he laughed. “I ignore them because Ali is disappointed whenever I get too foxed.”

“Who else are you enemies?”

He shrugged. “My patients,” he said. “And their limbs I cut off. And their money.”

“And me?”

“Well, your leg does not require amputation. And you do not have money…”

“I am from Belcourt.”

“Yes. And?”

“And you are a part of the Royal Circus.”

“Oh, no, darling, I am not.” Oliver frowned at her with amusement. “Is that what the rumor inside Belcourt says? What else do they say about me apart from my charming qualities?”

Leila did not answer. She looked at her leg and ordered, “Are we quite done?”

Oliver smiled at her. “Quite.”

---

“I do not like her,” Ellise said, arms crossed over her chest. She stood against the wall beside the door that led to her office.

“We have already established the fact that you do not,” Robert said, an amused smile curling the corner of his mouth as he slowly paced in front of her, hands in the pockets of his trouser.

“She’s a bloody child. But is she the child?”

He just shrugged.

“Her story has not changed?”

He shook his head. “She still claims that a Maiden from Belcourt planned everything.”

“They also have greed inside,” she said.

“And apparently, they can also kill a child.”

Her brow arched. “If her story is true.”

He smiled. “If she is the child.”

He watched her brows dip in a slow frown and her lips purse. Her hazel eyes were shadowed by her thick lashes as the frown deepened. “Since you seem to believe her—”

“I do not—”

“For argument, let us say that you do—how did she survive the attack? Belcourt has too many soldiers of their own. They had sentenced their women to death and only one has escaped thus far. How could this child have survived an assassination?”

Robert sighed. “Aliya said there are many secret passages out of Belcourt. And as Leila claimed, she passed through one which was too small it only permitted her size.”

“And how did she break her leg?”

“Tripped on her way through the forest,” he said. “As she claimed.”

“And now she comes to you because she believes you are the Royal Master.”

“I was for a little while, was I not?”

“Arrange a meeting with Tanner. Arielle is playing a game just as Sasha predicted.”

“You truly have no doubt this is all a scheme,” he said.

“Dior, if Belcourt can exploit its women, they can very well exploit their own children.”

He sighed. “Not surprising, of course. She is too smart for her age.”

“She was groomed to be smart.” She rolled her eyes. “She is not the High Priestess.”

“She does not claim she is. She says she was .”

When she remained silent, Robert cocked his head to the side and waited. When she refused to say anything more, he asked, “Can you not believe that a High Priestess is a child?”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “I cannot believe how Belcourt could utterly be so stupid to trust a child to rule over them.”

He shrugged. “One of the many mysteries of the place, I assume.”

“If she is telling the truth, then Sasha’s theory is turning out to be true. She must have a regent,” she murmured. “A child could not be fully developed. They can be reckless and impetuous.”

“So do many grown people,” he countered.

“Are you talking about my brother?” she asked.

Robert snorted. And then he chuckled, shoulders shaking with laughter. He stepped closer to where she stood beside the doorframe, chuckling. Their eyes held each other. Her lips curved into a small smile, as if she found his laughter amusing. Crossing the proper distance and stopping a mere foot away from her, his laughter dying down, Robert sighed. “Today is Monday.”

She nodded. “I am starting to hate Mondays,” she admitted, smiling wanly as she tried to roll her eyes, as if trying to be nonchalant.

“Because our secret plan keeps getting delayed?” he asked.

“No, because I hate anticipation.”

“I quite agree.” His eyes flickered to the closed door, then to her eyes. And down to her mouth.

His heart started to pick up pace. Not too fast, but enough to make him take one small step toward her. She smelled like nothing in particular. Or perhaps she just smelled too familiar. Like his study and his books, or his closet and his clothes. His bed and the sheets, the carriage and the leather seats.

If she did not like the closeness, she did not give it voice. But that seemed not to be the case because he saw her tilt her head to the side, as if studying one angle of his. Or perhaps inviting a kiss.

He moistened his lips and smiled again, slowly bending his head, welcoming the heat of her skin.

“Are we kissing?” she asked, voice low, lashes touching skin as she looked down his mouth.

Robert blinked. “We are may be about to kiss,” he corrected, his hands still deep inside his pockets because he was unsure how she would react to his touch. “If you do not mind?”

She was blinking too often than necessary, and even that he could not decipher. Was she anticipating it? Or was she thinking of a way to send him flying across the room?

“What for?” she asked, now in a whisper.

He bent lower. Mayhap he liked a nervous Ellise St. Vincent. “A sample?” he murmured.

One hazel eye narrowed doubtfully. “We have already had a sample.”

“Too long ago, yes.”

“The memory is still very clear to me.”

“Is it?” he asked, stepping even closer, his coat touching her. She uncrossed her arms and slid one hand on his shoulder. Finally, a clear invitation.

His heart raced faster in relief and anticipation, and even more when he heard the door of her study open and close. They both stiffened, frozen with their lips just a mere hairsbreadth apart, as the heavy footsteps became more distinct.

Robert stepped back and reached the center of Ellise’s bedroom just as the door opened and Oliver’s gigantic form stepped in. “She is twelve, a year younger than I have guessed, and she came to Belcourt the same day she was…” Oliver’s voice trailed as his eyes traveled from Robert to Ellise. “Born,” he finished his statement, eyes narrowing as they continued to jump from his sister to Robert. “Why are you here?”

“You left us here,” Ellise wryly said, pushing from the wall, face completely stoic, movement graceful. Robert, however, could barely move. He knew he looked composed, but he was stiff as a board, his heart hamming hard against his chest.

“No, I left you there,” said Oliver, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “In your office. This is your bedroom.”

“And a room away from being eavesdropped as we discuss important matters,” Ellise said.

“Why?” Robert asked, finally finding his voice. He frowned at Oliver. “Are you suspecting we were doing something else?”

Ellise scoffed as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Suspecting that we may be engaged in something more intimate?” she asked, eyes on her brother.

Oliver frowned, then his face contorted with revulsion. “Were you?” he demanded. Then at Ellise, he repeated, “Are you?”

“And if we are? Are you going to force us to marry?”

“If I do—”

Ellise scoffed and said, “Well, you cannot. We will decide what to do together.”

Robert frowned at her. “Are you saying you are entertaining the idea of a marriage with me?” Then his eyes narrowed. “Did my mother talk to you?”

“Why would your mother talk to her?”

Oliver’s question was left unanswered as Ellise addressed Robert’s two questions, saying, “No and no.”

“I was not saying—” Oliver started, but Robert stepped forward and asked, “Then why did you give your brother the idea about marriage?”

“I did?”

“Yes. You also insinuated that we may have intimate relations.”

“Ah, yes, well,” Ellise said, rolling her eyes to Oliver. “We are not marrying.”

“Yes, we are not,” Robert said, eyes at the gaping Oliver. “She is not ready to lose her freedom,” and she added, “And my dowry,” to which he replied, “You can have full control of your dowry.”

“I will?”

“And an entire estate for yourself if you wish it.”

Ellise turned on her heels to face him. “And my dowry goes to my children upon my passing.”

“I will find no need for it,” he answered with a shrug while Oliver turned his head left to right, looking at them in confused wonder.

“No mistresses,” she said.

Robert frowned. “If you do not enjoy another lover.”

“If you can prove I would not need one,” she countered.

“What in the bloody hell are you two—” Oliver started, then stopped, “Are you getting married?”

“No,” they chorused.

As Oliver stood in the middle of the room looking completely baffled, Ellise asked, “Where is the child?”

“In my office with two nurses.”

Ellise turned to Robert. “Take her home.”

Robert nodded. “Good day, St. Vincent,” Robert murmured, circling around the man.

Minutes later, as they drove back to his villa, Leila was looking at him. He waited until she could no longer help it and asked, “You are quite close with Miss St. Vincent.”

“We are friends as I said.”

“Since when?”

“When we were children. I was ten, to be precise.”

“Then you will marry her?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Curious, that is all,” she said with a shrug.

“Even if I want to, she would have to agree first.”

Leila frowned. “You have to ask her?”

“Of course.”

“Odd,” she said, peering out the window.

“What is odd?”

“You giving her freedom.”

“It can be easily given.”

“So is betrayal,” she murmured. “And they both have a price.” She turned and met his gaze, then smiled.

VI | Beware of Rumors

Robert had heard Leila’s story too many times. And each time, he felt she was telling the truth. The only thing that stopped him from believing the girl was the fact that she was from Belcourt. While the Circus had two women from Belcourt, both of whom married to Royals, this was a different matter.

Leila was a child. And she was too smart to be one. It was unnerving how she could speak and act as if she was more capable than anyone in the room. If she was indeed the former High Priestess, they groomed her for the role.

While she recuperated, Robert heeded Ellise’s orders to keep the girl where she could be watched—Blackwood’s villa.

“You refuse to be sent to an orphanage, and since your life may still be in danger, this place will be safe for you. Two of my servants will stay with you here. Should you need anything, call for them.”

Leila looked around. “Do you own this villa?”

“Yes,” he lied.

“I will feel safer in your villa.”

“I like my privacy, Leila. And if Belcourt thinks I am part of the Royal Circus, you most definitely are not safe in my home.”

Her lips pursed. Then she broke into a smile. “Thank you.”

He nodded and started to leave, but stopped. Turning around, he found her staring at him. “Do you have any plans?”

“What do you mean?”

“Once you are healed, do you have any plans?”

Suddenly, he saw a glimpse of the child that she should be. She looked lost, her brows fused into a fretful frown. “No.”

“Do you know if you have family outside Belcourt?”

“No. I was dropped outside Belcourt.”

He nodded.

“I cannot stay with you?”

The question sent a shiver down his spine. “No. I do not intend to be around children.”

“You mean children who are not your own.”

He opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again, afraid to say the wrong thing. “Good day, Leila. I will come visit you soon.”

---

Leila watched through the window as Robert climbed into his carriage. Her arms resting on crutches, she leaned forward and stared at the villa across the street.

After some time, she turned and found a petite young maid enter the parlor. “Hello, young miss. I brought you some sandwiches and hot tea. And what are you doing walking around? You should rest!”

Leila blinked at the woman. “What’s your name?”

The blond woman, her curly hair tied at the nape, broke into a big smile, her gray eyes glimmering with natural vivacious spirit, and said, “Arabella, young miss. But you can call me Bella.”

Arabella jumped and helped her to a nearby chair when she started walking. “From where I come from, we have Belles.”

The maid nodded. “I have heard of them Belles, Miss.”

“You have?”

“Yes,” Arabella said. “Are they all always so beautiful?”

Leila nodded. “They are.” Arabella continued to smile at her and Leila frowned. “Do you need anything?”

The woman blinked and color flushed her face. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to overstay. Please, ring for me if you need anything. Or I can come by and check on you from time to time. Would you like that?”

“That would be all right,” Leila murmured.

“Mr Jarvis, the footman, will also stay with us here in the villa. You can also call for him if I am not around—when I am in the market, or if when I’m cooking. Although I believe a cook will come by every day to prepare our meals, which is perfect because I cannot cook—”

“Thank you, Bella,” she interrupted with a tight smile.

The maid clamped her lips and scurried out of the parlor.

Once alone, Leila looked to the window and wondered if Robert Dior would buy her a doll.

---

Three days later, Robert navigated the vibrant marketplace near Coulway’s city center. Like his many trips in the past, he entered the alleyway that led to a quaint saloon. The barman offered a slight nod in greeting before pretending to have not seen him. Through a crowd of working people, mostly men, he reached a door, turned right, and took the flight of stairs that led to another room. The same room was occupied by three men, all of whom looked him up and down before one of them opened the door that led to Sheridan Garmont’s small office—one of many, of course.

The petite woman was already waiting behind her desk and smiled. A few strays of curly blond hair framed her face. “You know, before I inherited my uncle’s fortune, and before I acquired both the Sutherland Post and The Grimes, I abhorred these places. They are filthy. I still hate them, but this feels more tolerable than serving a child as a bloody maid.”

Robert nodded and said, “No, thank you,” when the lady motioned to the seat nearby. “As you said, this place is filthy.” His eyes went to a package sitting on the desk. “What is that?”

The woman rolled her gray eyes. “She wants a doll.”

He frowned at the woman. He barely knew Sheridan Garmont, but he knew of her uncle. He was there when Terence Garmont died in Everleigh after they delivered Prince Leo to Herst. And while the Soldiers of Belcourt fired at them in the open field from the woods, Robert froze on the ground and watched Oliver St. Vincent and Terence Garmont get shot.

On the man’s funeral, he saw Sheridan Garmont, her entire petite form veiled in black.

“Is she faring well?” he asked.

“She is fine. She keeps asking when you will return for a visit.”

“A little impatience will not hurt. It may push her to do something.”

“She is from Belcourt, my lord. All they do is wait. I doubt her impatience will lead us somewhere. Has your friend Lord Darcy sent requests?”

“Lord Darcy enjoyed your last article and wishes for more.”

She nodded. “Once I get into this child, my lord, there will be more interesting stories. For now, you might have to bear the tedious tone of my articles.”

“Lord Darcy does not find your writing tone tedious.”

“I would love to meet this Lord Darcy. I believe we shall be friends.”

Robert did not comment. “You called for me.”

“Yes,” said Sheridan. “I received a very important letter from someone you might know. It was delivered straight to my office in the Sutherland Post.”

“Who?”

“A woman named Ruby.”

Robert stiffened. “Ruby.”

“Yes. She claims to be your friend .”

“She is a Belle.”

“Yes, I know. My men say so. Can I trust her?”

“Ruby is a very complex character. I do not think I can trust her, but that is only because she is from Belcourt.”

“She says she wants to help.”

“How?”

Sheridan shrugged. “She did not say.”

He regarded her quizzically. “You are going to meet her.”

“That’s what I do, my lord. I get stories. Yours is getting quite boring, if I must be honest. Or mayhap it is just you being dull—no offense, of course. Perhaps you can send Lord Darcy over. I may find him far more entertaining.”

“Lord Darcy is an acquired taste.”

“You know, I will keep pestering you about him. I want to meet him.”

“That will be impossible, Miss Garmont. The Circus will die before you meet Darcy.”

“Well, then, I will meet this Ruby.”

He nodded. “I cannot stop you. You know how to protect yourself. But do not be like the many fools Belcourt and its Belles had fooled before. Be very careful.”

Sheridan tilted her head to the side. “Is this Ruby beautiful?”

“All Belles are.”

She broke into a smile. “Then I shall enjoy her company.”

---

Ellise was sitting behind her desk, tapping her fingers on the table, frowning at her thoughts, when Robert found her. He sat on the chair before her, crossed his leg, and asked, “Do you have problems with your little groups of weapons?”

She blinked and met his gaze. “My weapons are quite in excellent condition, although I do not agree that Trent should join Harrow’s team.”

“Why?”

“Harrow paid Caroline special attention in the past. It may pose as a problem.”

“Elle, that was too long ago. Harrow did not know Caroline was betrothed.”

“You men can be quite petty.”

“And why are you gossiping? You hate gossips.”

“Not when they are true,” she retorted. “And I have another one that involves you.”

He frowned. “What?”

“I talked with my mother and we discussed the settlement agreement for the marriage.”

Robert blinked, taking a long pause. The look on her face told him she was waiting for him to decipher her news. “What marriage?” he asked.

“Ours.”

He nearly fell off his chair. “Who said we are getting married?”

She leaned back against her chair and sighed. “Oliver.”

His mouth fell open. “I do have a lot to say, but please elaborate.”

“Apparently, he gossiped about our apparent discussion on marriage and dowries.”

“To whom?”

“His wife, of course.”

“And?”

“Aliya told Caroline in the Coffin during the opera three days ago. Lady Winthrop heard about it.”

His face paled. “Was my mother with them?”

“Of course, she was. And she immediately came to my mother the morning after.”

“You mean to say that your brother, Oliver, gossiped about our conversation and now everyone assumes we are planning a bloody wedding.”

“Yes. My mother, along with yours, and a few other people, now believes we are engaged.” As Robert remained motionless in his seat, Ellise added in her stoic face, “If you wish to throttle my brother, who is the source of the gossip, wait until he is back from his stroll with his daughter. I will take the child so she does not witness.”

Ignoring her quip, he frowned. “Surely you corrected your mother’s wrong assumptions.”

To his great surprise, she mirrored his frown, but hers had an etch of incredulity. “Why would I?”

He uncrossed his legs. “For one, because we are not getting married.”

“Yes, but my mother did not ask me. She said she simply wanted to discuss my settlement agreement.”

“You could have saved yourself the trouble—” he paused and wiggled a finger at her. “You are taking advantage of the gossip so your mother does not drag you around this season.”

She smiled. “If you do not mind, would you like to pretend we have agreed to be engaged?”

“Elle, once it is announced—and I tell you my mother will most definitely announce it—it will be a disaster.”

She shrugged. “We are only engaged, Robert, not married. There are many couples breaking their engagements nowadays.”

“We are not engaged!”

“Well, we are lovers.”

“We are not yet even lovers.”

“We will soon be.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, and he blinked, realizing an advantage. “This will stop my mother from pestering me.”

“Yes. She is currently pleased with our upcoming union.”

He scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. “You are incredible.”

“Many have said so. Do you still wish to throttle my brother?”

Robert sighed. “No, I wish to drink.”

She pushed away from the chair and bent down, opening a side drawer. When she emerged, she placed a bottle of brandy halfway filled. In one hand, she was holding two empty glasses. “I would offer the bourbon, but we have already emptied that one. And I want a report on Sheridan Garmont.”

Later, the two of them were in her bedroom, sitting at the foot of the bed, holding a glass each. Facing the faded blue damask wall, Robert relayed his encounter with Sheridan.

“Ruby. Interesting.”

“Sasha was hoping to get Ruby on our side.”

“No, she was hoping Ruby would make a choice and act on her own.”

“I can see that happening. She is a free spirit as she would claim.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw her study him. “You know her well,” she commented.

“I know her past and her fears. I know her enough to have used them against her.”

“You feel guilty using her past against her.” Robert did not comment. “As you are guilty over Garmont’s death.” His jaw twitched. Quietly, her voice slightly gentle than the usual, she said, “Things happened and you cannot change them.”

“I’m quite aware of that.”

“I know guilt.”

He scoffed. “You do now, don’t you?”

“Of course. Whenever I make my niece or Mason cry, I feel it.” He let out a dry chuckle. “I tell them I’m sorry and that we should all move on. And I give them toys because I think they are too young to argue or fight for their rights.”

“Stop trying to appease me. You are awkward whenever you try.”

“But it must be working. You look a tad better now than when you first walked in.”

“It must be the brandy.”

“Then thank me for the brandy.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome. Are you ready to discuss something else?” Without waiting, she asked, “What does Leighton say?”

She emptied her glass and Robert filled it halfway, just as she liked it, before he refilled his. He stole her a glance. Her cheeks were flushed from the spirit, but her hazel eyes were clear. She could drink an entire bottle and still beat him in chess. It was one of their favorite games apart from fencing. They would drink and play chess, and the least foxed would always prove to be the winner. Robert never won. And he had always tried his best.

“Esther is still looking for a way to lure Arielle out of Belcourt.”

“And Arielle?”

“She had not shown herself to him for weeks.”

She stood, walked to her closet, and slid the clothes aside. He joined her, and they both studied the display on the wall at the back. “She has not gone outside Belcourt,” she said, pointing at Arielle’s name, then at Leila’s. “And she appeared out of nowhere. Sasha said Arielle delivers messages for the High Priestess.”

“She works closely with the High Priestess. Even the previous one,” he said, pointing at Albert’s name.

“If Leila is telling the truth, she is who we are looking for. She fits the profile.”

“And if she was the High Priestess, she must have had a regent.”

“Arielle. With Leila gone, she is the new High Priestess.”

He nodded. “And Esther is out to get her. Two sisters fighting against each other. How domestic.”

She scoffed and closed the closet door. Then she stilled. “If we cannot get to Arielle, then perhaps we should get to the princess.”

He frowned. “That is not part of the plan, Elle.”

“She can be useful because she is the princess.”

He sighed. “I dislike where you are going with this.”

“Sasha had a plan should things go a certain way. And things seem to be going that way. Do you question us?”

“No, but this is the princess, Elle. How do you get past her guards?”

“Leighton will do it for us.” She turned and sipped from her glass.

Dior closed his eyes, fighting a smile.

“You like my plan.”

“I hate that I like it.” He opened his eyes and found her already staring at him with the faintest of smiles. “I want to kiss you.”

He saw her eyes darken, saw her cheeks flush with more color. “It is not Monday.”

“Are you busy, Darcy?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Without taking her eyes off him, she emptied her drink. He did the same and took it. In a few strides, Robert managed to place the glasses on the table beside her bed, locked the door, and traveled back to where she remained standing in front of her closet.

She moistened her lips as he neared; the anticipation vibrating in the air with each step, humming through his veins. The brandy helped loosen his nerve, and he was taking advantage.

“This is rather awkward,” she said when he stopped in front of her. She gulped, eyes wandering down to his mouth.

“We are both terribly awkward,” he replied, stepping closer. “You smell of brandy.”

“No, you smell of brandy.”

His heart was thrusting a force up his throat. Her breath was coming in slow, soft pants. Good. At the very least, he was not the only one having trouble breathing. But as he bent down, and his nose touched hers, as his brandy moistened lips ever so lightly brushed against hers, a different calm settled in his chest.

“Does it have to feel odd?” she asked, moistening her lips again. The tip of her tongue almost touched his lips, sending tingles down to his fingertips. “I feel odd.”

“You are overthinking,” he murmured, raising his hands to cup her face. They were soft as he imagined, a contrast to the soul it encased. “Can I?”

She nodded in his hand, her eyelashes floating halfway as she peered at his lips.

He dipped lower and kissed her.

His breath hitched in his throat, riveted by the spiral of sensations. The calm was short-lived as it gave way to thunder. By how she took her breath, her hands snaking between them to grasp his collar to pull him closer, and how she rose to her toes because closer was not enough, Robert knew she was as astonished.

Somehow, they may have both thought it would not be as rattling. They have not expected to be struck by such force. And it was a force, both warm and heady with a pledge of unruly destruction.

She tasted like brandy, and she tasted just as he wanted—familiar, exciting, and equally unforgiving. There was no hesitation when her mouth opened to welcome his tongue, no shame when she let out a moan that could only belong to Ellise St. Vincent.

She was a powerful kisser, a warrior out to conquer. When their lips finally parted, they were both panting, their eyes opening wide at each other, discovering something… different. He scoffed, realizing her hair had come loose and his fingers were buried through the tresses. And he was leaning against the closet where she had pushed him.

“That is not the kiss I remember,” she said, pressing against him, eyes on his mouth. “Would you like—”

“Yes,” he rasped, cradling her skull, bending low to catch her mouth for another scorching kiss.

And as feared, they heard the familiar heavy footsteps from the other room and the squealing laughter of a child.

Robert deepened the kiss, fisting a handful of Ellise’s hair in his hand, and with a groan, he pulled away.

“Where’s your aunt? Where is she?” Oliver’s voice playfully asked. “Can you find her?”

Ellise was still pressed against him and as they caught their breath and listened to Oliver play with his daughter in her study, Robert smoothed her hair. She swallowed, tilting her chin, coaxing him for another kiss.

“Elle, no—”

“He plays with her like he is the child,” she murmured against his mouth, her hand sliding beneath his shirt, which she had pulled out of his trousers sometime earlier. “He can go on for hours.”

“You want to walk, darling?” Her brother’s muffled voice.

“I thought she cannot walk?” he asked, trailing open kisses along her jaw, then her neck, his hand unbuttoning her shirt.

They heard a loud thud followed by Alannah’s squeal of delight or horror. “Oh-oh, we cannot tell your mother about that,” Oliver said. “How about crawling? You can crawl, darling. No hurry. The longer you can’t walk, the longer I do not have to deal with suitors.”

Robert buried his chuckle against her neck. Then his laughter froze, replaced by a growl. His hand found no other fabric beneath her shirt. “Good God,” he groaned, kneading her breast. It was not the size most men preferred, but he was not like most men, and this was just perfect. The mound fitted his hand perfectly. She arched against his hand. “No shift?” he asked, returning to her mouth, biting her lower lip.

“I was not expecting to leave Sinclair today,” she replied with a surprised gasp when he bent down and took the peak into his mouth. Her hand fisted his hair, the other twisting his shirt in a fist.

His groin was burning. Good Lord, what in the bloody hell were they doing? Clearly, this was not going anywhere today. But he could not stop, not when she was making soft sounds in his ear. And most definitely not now when she whispered, “We should have done this a long time ago.”

That might have been his undoing. He pulled away from the closet and whirled her around, reversing their position, to crush his mouth back on her.

Oliver was laughing from the other room, and there was another thud. And this time, Alannah cried. “Now, now, don’t cry. That was your fault. Can you see my fingers? How many fingers? Good God, you will be the death of me. Your mother will murder me if she—this will bruise, darling. Your Papa is a dead man.”

By the time Oliver said the word fingers, Robert had unbuttoned Ellise’s trousers and slipped a hand inside. He swallowed her strangled moan with his mouth, and he felt a shiver run up his spine when his fingers found her ready.

He would have given anything to have her at that moment, to bury himself in her and discover if it would be as marvelous and soul-shattering as the kiss.

She elicited the most arousing sounds as he pleasured her, her hands punishing every slide and probe of his fingers by digging into the muscle and sinew of his shoulders. And when he guided one finger into her, she curled and buried her face in his neck, ordering him to stop and then more when he showed her more.

He pulled her head back with one hand and kissed her, straining and ignoring his own needs because seeing her crumble with her eyes hazy with searing passion was just as satisfying. The moment seemed surreal. He had Ellise St. Vincent in his arms, afire and unguarded, sighing his name.

Her mouth opened in a silent cry, her eyes locking with his as they fluttered halfway and close, then back again. Her beautifully flushed face crumpled as she whispered, “Dior.” His mouth captured hers for another searing kiss, murmuring soothing words, telling her he was there, asking if she was reaching it. He knew she was.

But then Oliver said, “Do not go anywhere. Papa’s going to fetch you pillows. Or would you like to build a tent? I can do that. We need linens. Or the curtains? But first, pillows!”

Robert jumped away in panic. When he heard her strangled cry, he cursed under his breath and stepped back and kissed her deeply. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against her temple, righting her clothes as he murmured in her ear.

“Yes, darling, I know. I will get your pillows.” Oliver’s heavy footsteps thudded from the other room.

Robert leaned back and studied Ellise. She had her eyes closed, her teeth gritted shut. She looked defeated, abandoned in a void. “I’m sorry,” he murmured again, kissing her mouth just as the door rattled.

Ellise shuddered, but she let him pull her away from the closet to close her trousers. Once done, Robert tucked his shirt back into his trousers.

Oliver knocked on the door while Ellise tied her hair back in place.

He raked his hair with his fingers and, with nothing to do, rushed to get the empty glasses, snatching the bottle of brandy along the way.

“Ellise,” Oliver called from the other side. “I need pillows.”

“I need brandy,” she said, reaching for the glass Robert was handing her. She downed the drink and swallowed, wincing at the taste and heat. As she recovered, she glared at him and in a low voice said, “You owe me.”

His lips twitched into a smile. “I’d gladly pay double.”

“Ellise—” Oliver’s statement hung in midair as Ellise flung the door open. His eyes darted to Dior. “What—why do I keep seeing you in my sister’s bedchamber, Dior?”

Robert cocked his brows high. He lifted his glass at St. Vincent and said, “I am debauching your sister.”

Oliver, the giant in the room, could easily throw him out the window. But the man merely laughed and said, “If you can say that with a tinge of fear in your face, I might just believe you.” He turned to his sister who was already holding the pillows, then added, “Opera is over, Dior. Go home.”

Robert finished his drink and looked down at his trousers, which had gone tight. He looked up and found Ellise also staring. Fortunately, Oliver was focused more on the pillows to have noticed. She threw him his coat.

As he shrugged into it, their eyes locked.

“Monday,” she said, almost an order, her hazel eyes darkening as she said the word.

It could be any bloody day, he wanted to say. “Monday,” he said as goodbye.

VII | New Players

Ellise was perusing the latest Sutherland Post with a smile while Caroline continued their conversation, imparting her disbelief over the sudden news of her engagement with Robert Dior.

“You cannot imagine our surprise!” her friend said, leaning closer over steaming tea. “Trent fell off his chair.”

She blinked and frowned at her friend. “Why is everyone surprised by the news?”

“Because—because it started as a gossip! From your brother!” Caroline exclaimed. “But truly, Ellise, surely this is not one of your games. Perhaps you and Robert have just gotten bored and decided to entertain everyone with a stupid gossip. I know the pair of you have a peculiar sense of humor. Mayhap you think this is funny?”

“You find marriage as a joke then?”

“No, of course not! But—” her friend sighed. “Are you certain?”

“With what?”

“With Robert!” Caroline looked around the Brierwell parlor. Her husband was outside with Dior, talking with Trent and Jamie, Trent’s younger brother, as they prepared their foils for their fencing game. “Are you doing this to escape the social season?”

“No, of course not. In fact, I am preparing for a ball.”

“Which ball?”

“The Humbrick Ball.”

Her friend’s eyes widened. “The Humbrick—” Caroline looked around in disbelief. “But it is the most scandalous balls—”

“I know. I have always been curious. And now that I am engaged, I can attend.”

“You mean you are attending with Robert.”

She nodded. “Yes. I enjoy the advantage of being engaged. Did you not?”

“No. I was betrothed to Trent for most of our lives. I could barely wait to be married to him the moment I decided I want him.”

Ellise returned her attention to the post in her hand, aware that her friend was regarding her with incredulity and awe. She smiled inwardly.

“I never saw you as someone who would settle with a man.”

“I have no preference in gender, to be honest. It only happens that Dior satisfies my standard for a match. He could be a woman for all I care.”

She stole her friend a glance and chuckled. Caroline was gaping at her. “You are incredibly odd.”

“There is nothing odd about it,” she said. “There are also men who prefer men. Are you not aware?”

Caroline flushed with color. “Of course, I am aware.”

“Then it should not surprise you that women may prefer women. Or that someone can go both ways. I once fancied that blond woman who beat you in fencing.”

“Miss Blanche?”

“Ah, yes. I was quite brokenhearted when she married that brute. Such a waste of talent. And now she has to rear five children, all of whom did not take after her.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am.” She motioned her head to the window. “Ask Dior.”

“You mean he was aware?”

“We practiced kissing together during that summer we went to their Parlton estate because I was hoping to apply it to the then Miss Blanche who was, by that time, a year older than I.”

Caroline blinked. “You mean to tell me you and Dior practiced kissing?”

“Yes, inside a cupboard.”

“And did you kiss Miss Blanche?”

“No. I quite thoroughly enjoyed Dior’s kiss. I did not want to be disappointed with Miss Blanche’s.”

Her friend’s shoulders shook with mirth until her laughter erupted inside the parlor. “But Ellise, are you certain with Robert? Mayhap you will someday meet another Miss Blanche. You may regret it.”

“I can always take a mistress. Or a male lover.”

“Good God.”

“If Dior cannot satisfy me, of course.”

“You know, perhaps you should reconsider this big decision. I have known the two of you for so long, Ellise. I take back my previous suggestion. You two are too much alike to be a good match. You need someone different.”

Ellise set the post aside to look at her friend squarely in the eyes. “Then who do you have in mind?”

“Someone different. Someone opposite who can lure you out of your shell.” Her friend scooted to the edge of her seat to lean closer. “I heard that Prince Leo spent some time with you in Herst.”

“Yes.”

“And I heard he is quite the charmer.”

“He was quite taken with me, I have to agree.”

“And he did not try to—”

“He did, of course. He kept pestering. I did not appreciate it.”

“But why?”

“He is a child.”

“You never considered him?”

“No, not at all.”

“I heard he was very interested in you from the moment he saw you.”

“Who told you?”

“Robert. He was there in Herst as well, yes?”

“Yes. He arrived before Leo and the others,” she absently answered, then asked, “Why would he say that?”

“He said it in passing.”

Ellise turned to look out the window, frowning at Robert. They were walking back inside the manor. Not long after, he entered the room with Trent. “Jamie joined Camila in the garden, probably scheming their future together,” Trent said, going straight to Caroline, planting a kiss on her head. Dior, on the other hand, went to pour two glasses of bourbon, one for himself and the other he handed to Ellise. He sat next to her and took the copy of the post she handed out and read while Ellise sipped her drink. Over the rim of the glass, she saw Trent and Caroline regarding them with bafflement. “What?” she asked.

Robert looked up from the paper and asked, “What?”

“Perhaps we should tell them,” she said.

“That we are not getting married?”

Trent and Caroline jerked in their seat. “I knew it!” Caroline said. “Oh, thank goodness.”

“Then why is everyone celebrating your engagement?” Trent asked, looking baffled.

Ellise frowned at Caroline. “Why are you so relieved? Was it not you who suggested I marry Dior?”

“She did?” Dior asked, the same time Trent asked his wife, “You did?”

“Yes. She believes we are the only people who can tolerate each other.”

“Well, quite true,” Trent pointed out. “But answer my question. Why is everyone celebrating your engagement?”

Caroline flushed. “I was merely pointing out options. I was not utterly serious—no offense, Robert, of course,” she said, not hearing her husband’s question.

Dior looked at Caroline with equal curiosity. “You think we are not a match then?”

“Will someone answer me! Why is everyone celebrating your engagement?” Trent repeated in frustration.

“Well, you are too similar,” Caroline replied to Dior.

“Because it is convenient for us to make them believe the gossip for a while. We can always break the engagement anytime,” Ellise replied to Trent before turning to Caroline to say, “And what is wrong with two very similar people being together?”

Before either husband or wife could answer, Robert droned, “It is rather petty for people to easily assume opposites should attract each other.”

Trent shrugged. “Because it is very common.”

Ellise cocked her head to the side, baffled. “But why does it have to be someone opposite?”

“It is not a rule, is it?” Dior asked.

“Most definitely not,” she retorted.

Caroline chuckled. “It makes things exciting.”

“Because the other is unpredictable,” added her husband.

Ellise and Dior scoffed. “If you are wise and creative enough, you can be unpredictable,” she said.

Dior set the post aside and crossed his leg. “Two people completely similar and boring together cannot be together?”

Caroline’s face contorted with discomfort. “Well, we are not saying—”

“Two people who know how to be bored together can most certainly last longer than those who cannot because they can be bored together and still be together,” Ellise interjected.

“Thus, they find no need to search entertainment elsewhere,” Dior finished.

“I feel attacked, to be honest,” Ellise droned.

“Likewise,” Dior added.

“B-but—” Caroline let out an exasperated sigh. “But you are not getting married, are you?”

“No,” they chorused. “But it is too presumptuous of people to think we cannot be an excellent match,” said Dior.

“And odd for people to set an unspoken standard for said matches,” Ellise added.

Trent laughed, resting his arm around his wife’s shoulder. “Very well, we concede. You are doing this for some odd reason, but you can definitely be a very good pair. We approve of your sham union.”

“We never asked for your permission in the first place,” Ellise pointed out.

“No, you did not,” Trent said, forcing a smile that bordered on derision.

“Our mothers are planning to arrange an excursion with all our families to celebrate our engagement. Will you join?” Dior asked.

Caroline sputtered in her drink. “Surely you will not lead them on for too long!”

“It will be in Herst,” said Ellise. “They need distraction, and planning a wedding is a good one. They will understand when we break the engagement. In fact, they may agree we are not an excellent match after all. Since we are both too much alike .”

Trent groaned and murmured to his wife, “They will never let this go for a long time,” before turning to face them again. “We will be there. I am quite ecstatic to see your mothers interact as future in-laws. And I look forward to when you two get caught in this scheme.”

Ellise smiled. “Oh, they will most definitely clash. They barely make it alive after a trip to the Coffin. And we will not get caught.”

“And speaking of which, when will I expect you to join us in the Coffin? You have been evading our sessions,” Caroline asked.

“I have no interests in hearing Lady Winthrop’s stories about the dead.”

“They are quite scandalous, you know—the stories, I mean. Very entertaining.”

“I am certain they are.”

“I should find Jamie and Camila,” Trent said, standing to her feet. “Those two are always up to something peculiar.”

“They may be practicing ,” Ellise said to Caroline, causing her friend to jump to her feet in alarm to follow her husband. As they left, she heard Trent ask his wife, “Practicing what?”

Left alone, both Ellise and Dior scoffed and smiled, equally amused. “I knew they would be rattled,” said Dior.

She turned to look at him and waited until he looked up and met her gaze. “I told her about Miss Blanche.”

He shook his head at the memory. “Then you told her about the experiment.”

“I did, yes.”

He frowned, shifting on the settee so he faced her. “I have always been curious. Have you ever gotten around to kissing her?”

“No.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I enjoyed our kiss. Why would I look for another that may not be on par?”

“Ah, then I bested your first love,” he said, voice low and teasing. His hand reached for her wrist, and he ran his thumb over her pulse. “Your heart is racing.”

She cleared her throat. “Yes.” She looked at him and narrowed her eyes. “Why did you tell Caroline Leo fancies me?”

“Because it is true.”

“Do you think we are a match—Leo and I?”

He shrugged. “You can match anyone, Elle. Badly or incredibly.”

“I could be future queen.” She caught the glint of anger cross his dark eyes. Fighting off a satisfied smile, she said, “Stop entertaining our friends’ idea of a match between Leo and I.”

“I will,” he said, eyes dropping to her mouth, thumb caressing the sensitive skin over her pulse. “Do you have time tonight?”

“I might, if you can stay past midnight.”

His eyes darkened. “Should we stay the night in Brierwell?”

Heat spread like wildfire, scorching down to her fingertips. “Yes.”

---

Ruby warily entered the tavern, her face shadowed by her black cloak. The men in the room quieted upon her entry, but one man stood from his chair and ordered everyone to go on with their drink. He was tall and towered over her, his face covered with smallpox pits, and it wrinkled as he smiled and said, “This way, young lady.”

Ruby followed the man, thinking it was not too late to turn and go back to the safety of her villa. But her feet had a mind of their own, taking one step after another, climbing up the stairs, following the man who smelled like cigar and grime.

She moistened her lips as a door was opened for her. And then another.

It was too late now, she thought, standing in the middle of the doorway, facing a beautiful woman with curly blond hair.

“Hello, Ruby,” Sheridan Garmont greeted with a mischievous smile, gray eyes regarding her with amused curiosity. “You said you are seeking for help. One that is not from the Royal Circus.”

Ruby lifted her chin and squared her shoulders before she unveiled her confident, charming smile. “Yes. I found you may need help with your recent stories about Belcourt.”

---

Supper in Brierwell was uneventful. After an afternoon of fencing—where Ellise won—and a few rounds of chess, which did not end well after Jamie and Camila indignantly claimed Trent cheated, everyone was exhausted by the time the last course was served.

Everyone retired to bed after a quick tea, which made Robert’s journey to Ellise’s bedchamber a little more convenient. However, he did not find her there. Retracing his steps back to his chamber, he found her walking toward him in a white nightgown.

“Where have you been?” he asked, reaching her in four long strides. He grabbed her hand as he passed, tugging her down the corridor back to his bedchamber.

“I went to your room,” she whispered as soon as they were inside.

His heart hammered as the distinct sound of the lock reverberated around the room. She turned around and her eyes landed on the giant bed. “Do you know what color your linens are?” she asked.

“Red.”

“It’s green.”

“Does it matter?” he asked, taking her hand and turning her around to face him.

Ellise looked up, a corner of her lips lifting into a small smile. “I was trying to make small talk.”

“By talking about my color blindness?” he said, narrowing his eyes as he easily smiled.

He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her closer, bending down just near enough to brush his mouth against hers. She leaned forward, and he pulled away, smiling as she huffed in frustration.

“I never took you for someone who wears a nightdress in bed,” he said in her ear, hands kneading her waist through the thin fabric.

“I do not. The covers are much preferable. The nightdress is only for the when I venture out.” She smiled when a soft, guttural groan escaped his throat. She pushed him toward the bed, reaching for the top button of his shirt.

He slowed their steps to their destination, lightly grazing the back of his fingers over the fabric that covered her breast. “And what do you do under the covers?” he asked, mouth sliding along her jaw.

She tilted her head to the side to try to catch his mouth, but failed. “Many things—lonely things.”

“Good God, Elle,” he rasped before he drew her to him and claimed her mouth in a soft kiss. She moved closer, but he pulled back, his eyes telling her how he wanted this night to go.

Ellise narrowed her eyes and pushed, and as he fell back on the bed, she climbed over him. But Robert retaliated and pushed back in a sitting position, hooking his hands under her thighs, roughly pulling so they rested on both sides of his hips. They had found a new challenging game. And like the others before, it would take time for the first loser to be determined. Neither would yield so long as the other had a weapon to wield.

He tugged at the band around her hair and raked his fingers through the long strands that fell heavily around her shoulders, changing her entire appearance—an image she rarely showed people because it was soft and fragile, and very much woman. Ellise with her hair down was as gratifying as it was powerful.

In response to his attack, she cupped and tilted his face to the side so she could have more access to his mouth. Her tongue trespassed and lured him to the edge of danger and defeat, but Robert would not let her win this early.

He pulled her hips lower and closer, showing her the evidence of his need, giving her a prelude to her defeat. She breathed out a frustrated moan when he took his lips back so he could stare into her eyes. He swallowed hard when she shifted over his arousal, the thin material of her drawers leaving no room for imagination.

The knock on the door echoed the hammering of his chest. As it opened, he rolled to the side and covered Ellise while crying over his shoulder, “Wait!”

“Pardon, my lord, but a messenger came for you from Coulway,” the footman said through the small crack of the door.

Ellise sighed and dryly pulled the sheets over herself, rolling her eyes at him. Her hair fanned around her on the mattress, and it took all his strength not to order the footman to lock the door so he could have his way with her.

“I’m glad you never kissed Miss Blanche,” he said instead, bending down to claim her mouth. “I will be back.”

Moments later, Robert was face to face with the messenger from Coulway. “A message from Miss Bella, my lord,” the man said, handing him a note.

It was short, and it was alarming.

She’s missing.

VIII | The First Moves

The carriage ride would have been faster if the rain did not pour, muffling the road with a vengeful downpour. “We could have ridden on horseback,” Ellise muttered, biting the inside of her cheek as she glared at the blurry twilit sight of the woods outside.

“And risk both of us getting on an accident?” Dior asked beside her.

She shook her head and turned to him with a frown. “She could have explained how the child escaped.”

“Or abducted,” Dior clarified.

“You should tell her that,” she pointed out. As the rain dampened the sound of the wheels against the road, Ellise crossed her leg over the other. She was back in her buckskins and shirt, her hair tied high behind her head. “I do not believe she was abducted.”

Dior was fixing the cuff of his coat. “We should go straight to my villa first,” he murmured. “Sheridan cannot see you.”

“You are depositing me in your villa?”

“Yes, because I have men there who can guard you.”

“I do not need your guards.”

“It is where I will go home after my talk with Sheridan. It will be questionable if I go to Sinclair in the middle of the night.”

“Very well,” she droned. “And do not forget to tell her to be more elaborate in the future.”

“Of course,” he said, facing her. The corner of his mouth curled.

“What?” she asked, leaning away with a frown.

He chased and cupped her face, drawing her back to plant a soft kiss on her mouth. Then, just as easily, he let her go and straightened in his seat. “Have I ever told you I find you attractive whenever you are thinking?”

She blinked as the carriage vaulted, sending splashes to the side of the road. “Is it my thinking you find attractive or the way I look when I am thinking?”

He shrugged, throwing her a glance. “It is you.”

“Make me understand your reason by being specific—” He stopped her by grabbing her hand. He squeezed. “I am trying to be romantic,” he murmured.

“Now is not the perfect time,” she said, shifting so she faced the empty seat before them. “We have a missing subject. And romantic does not suit you, Dior.” When he just scoffed, she added, “Although you can try harder.”

The two-hour ride to Coulway took longer. By the time they rolled into Dior’s villa, his butler was already waiting for them.

“My lord,” Warren said almost immediately, “The child is here.”

Ellise blinked in surprise and she stormed right into the hall, followed closely by Dior. “Where?” he asked the butler who quickly ushered them upstairs to where Leila had been staying before they transferred her to Blackwood’s villa.

“She walked all the way here in the rain,” Warren explained before opening the door. The moment he did, Ellise allowed Dior to enter first while she gave the butler a nod. The man walked off and Ellise stayed in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest.

“That was not clever, Leila,” Dior said, walking over to the bed where the child lay, dressed in an oversized nightgown, her wet, dirty blond hair almost dark. “Arabella is worried about you. She thought you were abducted.”

“Then she should have watched me closely,” said the child. Ellise frowned, studying the child in silence.

“Why did you run away?”

“I did not like it there.”

“Why?”

Leila remained quiet, her head bent.

“Why?” Dior repeated, hands on his hips.

The child lifted her head, and when she did, she saw Ellise standing in the doorway. Their eyes met. She offered the child an awkward smile, but the little devil only glared at her. “Why is she here?” she asked Dior.

“I should ask the same question,” Ellise said. “Why are you here?”

Ignoring her, the child stared at Dior. “You have not visited me,” Leila said to him, tone almost accusing.

Ellise sighed and walked into the room. “Are you certain you are here because Robert has not visited you?” She stopped beside Dior and tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowed with curious amusement at Leila. “Or are you here because this is where you have to be?”

Leila’s face tightened. “I am here because this is where I feel the safest.”

“Walking around Coulway with a broken leg in the rain does not sound like someone who cares for her safety, child,” she retorted.

“You came to me because you wanted to be safe,” Dior said to Leila, voice disappointed. “I took you to a safe place and the first thing you do is run away.”

The child’s face filled with tears, and she quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand. “I was scared. I cannot trust Arabella.”

“Arabella is under my employ. I trust her along with Jarvis.”

“But I do not want—”

“You cannot always have what you want, Leila. You came to me for help. Unless you no longer want it, you will have to follow my rules,” Dior sternly said. “I am disappointed tonight.”

The child’s nostrils flared as she glared at Ellise. “You were with her, were you?”

“Of course, he was,” Ellise said.

“Where?”

“Somewhere with friends,” she retorted.

“Rest tonight, Leila. You are going back to the villa on the morrow,” said Dior, leaving the room without another word.

When Ellise stayed, Leila slumped in her bed and said, “I want to be alone.”

“I would not suggest you disappoint Robert. He easily gives up, you know. And once he does, you may find yourself back in Belcourt.”

The child snapped her head at her. “Why are you always with him?”

“We are friends.”

“Bella said he is marrying you.”

“Yes, Bella is correct.” Ellise smiled and started to walk backwards toward the door. “Expect to see me often, child.”

“I do not like you.”

“You do not have to. And I do not have to.” The child glared at her until she reached the door. “Have a good night, Leila,” she said before closing the door.

Dior was standing against the opposite wall of the corridor, waiting for her. He dropped his hands to his side and walked with her back downstairs in the hall. “Are you not staying the night?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “I should go home to Sinclair.”

“To think.”

“To make plans.” She turned to him and added, “This is her way to manipulate you. To make you pity her. Do not fall for it.”

“I know.”

“And go talk to Garmont. Tell her—”

“To give more elaborate reports.”

“Precisely. And I need to visit Shaw.”

“But Shaw is—”

“It is time we tell him more secrets about his family,” she murmured, accepting the coat Warren handed her. “I need your carriage.”

He sighed. “It is already outside.”

She paused at the door, looked at him, and sighed. Walking back, she raised to her toes and planted a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Monday,” she murmured as she turned away.

He scoffed. “Monday.”

---

“This is a surprise,” Sasha said as she approached Reginald standing alone by the railings of the upper deck. Not far were the three guards, eyes watchful. “Who allowed you to go out of your prison?”

He did not offer an immediate reply. His eyes were at the distant flock of birds flying in the direction they were taking. “Your husband is more pitiful,” he finally said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Sasha wrapped her Kashmir shawl around her shoulders and wrapped her arms around her as the wind blew her thick, dark brown hair to one side. “If you are thinking of jumping overboard, I should let you know that there are two women from Belcourt aboard this ship who could do the job better,” she said, eyes on the endless horizon up ahead.

The old man stole her a look, one that bordered on irritation and amusement. “By the number of men we have, we should have already captured them.”

“Not until we are certain they are not working alone. For all we know, the rest of the ship is from Belcourt.”

Reginald turned to look at her. “Are you always this calculative, child?”

“I enjoy making choices if that is what you are asking.”

“Hopefully, the good ones.”

“The more time I spend with you, the more I realize I may have chosen more bad ones than good.”

The man finally chuckled. “Whoever your father is, he should be proud.”

Sasha’s smile disappeared. “He should. He killed himself when I chose myself.”

Reginald turned to her, wrinkled face filled with surprise—almost horror. She turned to the guards and nodded. “It is time you return to your cabin, Your Highness. It is not safe out here.”

---

Aliya arrived the very next morning in Sinclair with a glittering dress.

“What is that?” Ellise asked as her sister-in-law laid the mauve dress on the bed.

Aliya’s light brown eyes glimmered with amusement, obviously enjoying the slight panic in her question. “Your dress for tonight’s dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“The Diors are hosting tonight.”

“For what?”

“For you and Robert, of course.”

“You mean because we are engaged.”

“Yes.”

“I do not want to wear that horrible dress, Aliya. It glitters.”

“It will be wonderful on you.”

“She will look like a bloody fruit, darling—a glittering one at that,” Oliver’s voice said in the doorway. He was carrying Alannah in his arms, his face contorted with disgust at the sight of the dress. Transferring his gaze on Ellise, he said, “I need to talk to you in private.”

“Do not listen to him,” Aliya murmured before she turned to get her daughter from her husband and retreated into the office outside, leaving Ellise alone with Oliver.

Her brother approached her, hands in his pockets. “Has Dior compromised you?”

Oliver had not locked the door and Ellise could see Aliya pacing outside with her daughter in her arms, signaling to Ellise to not answer the question.

“You mean to ask if we are enjoying sexual relations.”

“Yes.”

“No, not yet.”

“Good,” said Oliver. “You may only do so after the wedding.”

Aliya was scowling at the back of Oliver’s head while Alannah tugged at her auburn hair.

“Did you do that?” Ellise asked her brother.

“With Aliya, yes, of course!” Oliver said proudly. His wife silently scoffed, shaking her head. “And the wedding night was worth it.”

“Why?”

“Why what? Wait?”

“Yes.”

“Because as I have said, it is worth it.”

“Worth it because of the great relief after a long time of depriving yourself of release?” She could see Aliya nodding her head.

Her brother blinked, considering her question. “Hmm. Interesting. You might be right.”

“Of course, I am right. You conditioned yourself by depriving your needs. Of course your mind told you the delayed gratification was worth it.”

Oliver appeared thoughtful while Aliya finally gave up and walked away. Ellise knew he was lost in his own mind at that point. He turned and said, “That behavior is worthy of an experiment.”

As her brother left the room, Ellise heard Aliya ask, “You are done?”

“Darling, I need you to be utterly objective. Why do you think you felt overly gratified when—” Ellise closed the door, blocking the rest of her brother’s words.

She turned to face her bed and glared at the dress before she walked over to the small table in the room and picked up a note from Tanner Macmier.

The Maiden made contact.

Ellise smiled. Suddenly, the mauve dress looked more appealing.

The players in the game were all coming back.

---

Ruby smiled at Sheridan Garmont from across the table. This time, she was more at ease.

“Have you made up your mind?” she asked the woman.

Jumping to her feet, Sheridan walked around the table and stood close to where she sat, hitching her hips on the edge of the table. “Answer a few questions for me first, Ruby.”

“Of course. I shall try.”

“Why did you come to me?”

“I told you,” she said with a shrug. “I do not want to work with the Circus.”

“Why?”

“They make me uncomfortable. Their game is too big for me.”

The woman tilted her head. “And yours is something smaller?”

“Yes.”

“Belcourt?”

Ruby nodded.

“If you wish to ruin Belcourt, you can definitely use the help of the Circus.”

“The Circus is already doing that from the outside.”

Sheridan’s lips slowly stretched into a beautiful smile, a glint of mischief in her gray eyes. “You plan to ruin it from the inside.”

Ruby liked that the woman was smart enough. “As I said, Sherry, I have a plan.”

---

Sasha heard her husband’s footsteps before the door opened. She closed her book as he turned the lock. Soon after, his arms wrapped around hers from behind.

“I cannot wait to be alone with you in Everleigh,” he murmured in her shoulder, kissing the edge of her neckline.

She smiled. He rested his hand over her abdomen, caressing the bulge. “Are you not worried?” she asked.

“I worry all the time, darling,” he groaned, turning her around to cup her face, running his thumb over her cheek. “I worry the Soldiers will creep into this bloody cabin and get to you. And I worry about the bloody plan you made with Darcy back home.”

She kissed his mouth and murmured, “Sometimes I dream about coming home to a war. Everything is burning, people displaced.”

His response was a deep kiss. “But you do not truly think so.”

“No, of course not. Darcy will know what to do.”

“You barely know her.”

“She saved my life, West. Alone. On a boat filled with Soldiers. I trust her. And she knows everything I know. She should be fine.”

Her husband started to unbutton her dress, and they swayed their way to the bed. “Rider thinks we should capture the two Soldiers onboard a week before we reach Sutherland. He is getting tired of spying on spies.”

“One of them is Gabrielle, West. She has to be handled as planned.”

His mouth was on hers as he guided her down onto the bed, where their bodies instinctively fitted.

“Does it not scare you? That we are in a vessel in the middle of nowhere, trapped with enemies and an arrogant old king?” she asked, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Why do you think I make certain I have you in sight all the time?” he rasped in her neck.

“We should have ridden the Witch.”

“Vanessa Lyndon was quite busy.”

“You mean disappointed. She did not get Christopher Hayhurst.”

He chuckled. “I never thought she truly wanted to abduct an unwilling victim.”

“I was unwilling,” she teased, kicking her dress off the bed as he did the same with his trousers.

“You wanted me.”

“No, not immediately. You frightened me.”

He groaned, his hands slipping between them and lower. She arched against his touch. “I was trying to manipulate you.”

“We both did,” she gasped in his mouth.

“The best blunder of our lives,” he murmured with a smile.

“I could not agree more, Your Grace.”

And as he continued to make love to her, Sasha brushed aside the fears—for their fate here on this ship and what awaited at home.

She allowed herself a moment of freedom.

Just for a while.

A small respite in a very slow game.

---

Leila struggled down the short flight of stairs with her crutches. The sun was bright outside, sifting through the leaves of the birch trees that lined both sides of the street. The cobblestone path walk was a little slippery after another day of rain yesterday.

Somehow, Robert Dior had not taken her back to the villa, but Arabella, the maid was coming today to get her.

The path to her right was empty, save for two women crossing the street. To her left, another girl was playing with her doll on the steps of her villa. Leila approached her and the girl looked up at her, phoenix light brown eyes filled with curiosity.

“Does it hurt?” the girl asked, looking at her leg.

“A little,” Leila said, eyeing the doll in the girl’s hand. Her eyes raised to the open doorway of the villa. “Why are you alone?”

“I was waiting for you,” Venus said with a smile, handing her the doll.

Leila took it and turned to face the street. “They are taking me back to that villa.”

“They do not trust you yet.”

She nodded. “The St. Vincent lady is odd.”

“I heard,” Venus said, sitting on the bottom step, resting her chin on her palms.

“Tell Arielle to go ahead with the Kinsley Ball,” she ordered, studying her old doll. “And I want my maid Arabella followed.”

IX | The Regent

Arielle entered the drawing room and found Venus already waiting for her. The child’s tawny skin appeared more radiant after a mere few weeks outside the Palace. With a smile, she sashayed to a chair and asked, “How is the High Priestess?”

“She is fine. Her leg is healing well,” the child said, face impassive.

“Good.”

“Have you any news?”

Arielle nodded. “The Mistress of the Court of Flowers has given me full reports on Delaney’s mission. The Prime Minister has gathered enough supporters.”

Venus nodded. “The High Priestess says we should go on with the Kinsley Ball.”

Arielle sighed.

The child frowned at her. “Is something the matter?”

“Nothing, Venus,” she said, offering the child a wan smile. “I am merely fretful. The High Priestess is risking her life for this mission. It is a bold move, one that has never been done before.”

“She is confident we will succeed. She is merely following the instructions given by the former High Priestess.”

“Of course, I know. I trust that Albert had planned things before his death.” She paused, stared. “But it bothers me still. The High Priestess is too young. She may be gullible.”

“You do not trust that she can keep her loyalty to Belcourt.”

“No, of course not—”

“I agree with you.”

Arielle blinked in surprise. “You do?”

Venus nodded. “Which is why I am outside with her. She is still the High Priestess and we should honor her decision.”

“Of course.” Arielle reluctantly smiled, restlessly fixing the skirts of her dress. “I am merely concerned. If the Royal Circus manages to control her, turn her against us, we may lose everything.” As Venus frowned, Arielle added, “They may take her away from us.”

She got the reaction she wanted. The child’s face hardened with uncertainty and confusion.

“But I am certain that with you by her side, she would not stray,” she added, smiling gently.

With a nod, the child stood, phoenix light brown eyes no longer as confident. “The High Priestess was chosen because she knew all of Albert’s plans. He trusted her to deliver.”

“Of course, I understand. Forgive me for being doubtful.”

Venus looked at her for a while. Whatever she was thinking, Arielle could only guess. Finally, the child nodded.

“And please,” she hastily said, following Venus to the door. “Please keep her away from Strait.” At the question in the girl’s eyes, Arielle moistened her lips. “Her… her grandmother still lives.”

Venus’ eyes hardened with horror. “That cannot be true. Leila’s family perished in a shipwreck. The two of us were one of the few survivors. For months, no one claimed us and they took us here. Like me, she has no one.”

“She has someone, Venus,” Arielle said, taking the child’s hand. “Her grandmother from her mother’s side did not know about the wreck until you were taken here. She has been searching since then. So please, keep her away from Strait.”

Venus was motionless for a long time, her eyes filled with doubt and panic. Then she stiffly nodded, pivoted on her heels and left the room.

Arielle remained where she stood, patiently waiting for the last sounds of the child’s departure. Then she gracefully made her way to another door where the six other Maidens stood waiting.

“Will we proceed with the Kinsley Ball?” one of them asked.

“Of course. It’s Albert’s plan, after all.”

“And the High Priestess?”

“I am afraid to take her back once all of this is over.”

The eldest of the Maidens sighed. “I do not always agree with you, Arielle, but this time I do. She is too young, easily manipulated.”

“Albert had somehow foreseen his downfall. But he should have planned for a better High Priestess.”

Asa, a young woman with blond hair and the seventh Maiden, broke her silence. “But she picked you as her regent, Arielle.” She looked around at the other Maidens. “It means you act on behalf of her, not against her. You are meant to guide the child! I am not comfortable with this.”

Arielle’s face tightened. “I am acting as her regent, Asa. And I say she is compromised. What do you expect from a child? One day of play out there and she is gone, believe me. It is our duty to question the High Priestess’ actions. Her plans thus far are from Albert’s instructions. However, the longer she stays outside, the more vulnerable she is against temptations.”

“Then you should have stopped her in the first place,” the sixth Maiden said.

“Or was this your plan from the start?” Asa asked.

“Why would you think that, Asa? I believed in Leila. She is far from eighteen. Are you truly comfortable following orders from a child? One living outside Belcourt under the roof of a Royal? With her careless action, by leaving us to fend for ourselves while she went outside and play, I am left with no choice. A leader does not abandon their subjects.”

Asa was about to open her mouth to argue, but the eldest Maiden spoke, saying, “Please be reminded, Maidens, that Lady Arielle is our regent. In Belcourt Law, she rules in the absence of the High Priestess.”

Arielle ignored Asa’s tiny shake of the head and faced the others. “We proceed with the Kinsley Ball. I shall mobilize the Belles and the Soldiers.”

“And the High Priestess? What of her?” Asa asked.

“She is a child. We let her think she is still playing.”

---

“The former Darcy never told me that being Darcy means waiting,” Ellise grumbled under her breath as she stood in the shadows of the ballroom. “And our parents never told us the dinner is a bloody ball.”

Dior was equally flustered, standing beside her with a glass of wine in hand. “This is a terrible idea.” Their heads followed Oliver and Aliya as they whirled past, the latter laughing at her husband’s quip as they danced the waltz.

“Are you certain Macmier has not yet sent a word?”

“Yes.”

She clucked her tongue. “He might be dead for all we know.”

“And Shaw?”

“Impatient, of course, but that is a given. But he has to be patient like he has been with his sister.” She sighed. “I’m afraid everything Sasha predicted is happening. This is turning out to be a complicated, sinister family drama.”

He looked down at her. “You are easily frustrated these days.”

“Because the frustrations of waiting had been building.”

“Then you need the release .”

She snapped her head up at him. “Are you mocking?”

He suddenly turned and stepped before her, blocking her from the crowd, and murmured under his breath. “My mother is craning her neck.”

She peered over his shoulder. The petite woman was indeed craning her neck, looking around the ballroom. “Is she planning another toast? We already suffered two tonight.”

“I believe she would want us to dance.”

“I hate dancing.”

“I know. Step to the side.”

“I would be behind the bloody column if I step any further,” she hissed.

“Unless you want to suffer a waltz, Elle, hide—”

“Robert! Oh, there he is! What are you doing in the shadows, you silly man!” his mother, Lady Harriet Dior, Duchess of Calbridge, called behind him.

Ellise slipped behind the column as Dior turned to face his mother.

“Where is Ellise?”

“I do not know, Mother.”

“Well, should you not know? You are her fiancé.”

“Yes, exactly. Not her husband. Why would I need to know where she is?”

“Because you should dance with her! Everyone expects to at least see the pair of you share a waltz.”

“Mother, you know Ellise does not enjoy a crowd.”

“Well, yes, but her mother agreed to—”

“You mean you and Mrs St. Vincent both agreed to throw a ball and missed to inform us, your children, the two people you are throwing the ball for. As you should have guessed, we did not—do not—enjoy the surprise.”

“Well, we thought that since everyone is already aware of the engagement, we might as well enjoy a pre-engagement ball. This is nothing big, son, stop sulking.”

Ellise scowled in the darkness. And she was certain Dior was doing the same by the way his shoulders stiffened. “Pre-engagement ball,” he wryly said, voice a little lower than usual. A dangerous sign.

“Well,” his mother said, clearing her throat, perhaps also sensing trouble, “Have you seen Natalia? I have things to discuss with her.”

“She is currently dancing with her husband.”

“Ah, yes. Well then, enjoy the ball, Robert. In whatever way you think best. And oh, step away from the shadows, will you? You are not hiding, are you?”

“No, of course not, Mother,” he said, voice laced with derision.

“And you are not hiding Ellise behind you, are you?”

“Of course, I do.” Ellise could picture his tight smile, and she bit her lips in amusement.

“Oh, silly me. Of course, you are jesting,” Lady Harriet said, her laughter waning as she walked off, eventually drowned by the loud music and merry laughter of those who actually enjoyed the ball.

As Ellise stifled a snort, Dior reached behind him and blindly found her hand. Without a word spoken, they both surreptitiously cruised the length of the wall, taking cover in the shadows, until they reached the open doorway that led to the foyer. She had only been to the Stapleton manor twice, but she knew where he was taking her when he led her down a corridor, past the hall that led to the patio.

They climbed the servants’ staircase, traversed the narrow corridors, and emerged on the second landing. And finally, into an empty small library.

“We cannot stay long,” he said, letting go of her hand. Moonlight spilled into the room, providing enough light. She walked to the glass paneled doors that led to the balcony. As Dior poured her a glass of wine in one corner, Ellise walked out onto the balcony and looked down at the garden below. Some guests wandered around Lady Harriet’s beloved garden, happily conversing with drinks in hand.

“I barely recognize these people,” she said with a frown, accepting the wine Dior handed her as he joined her. The cool night air swept gently past them, carrying with it the faint sound of music from the ballroom. “Trent and Caroline are not even in attendance.”

He sighed. “Our mothers, I’m afraid, barely even started.”

“I cannot imagine the excursion in Herst,” she added. “I wonder why they do this?”

He shrugged. “They say they are celebrating our engagement.”

“Odd, really, because they enjoy it. And we do not.”

“The odd part is we were not informed.”

She sipped from her glass. “Should we break the engagement in Herst?”

“I suggest we do it after Herst. One of them may have a faint heart.”

“My father and brother are doctors. I am certain they can deal with that.”

“Your brother may have the faint heart.”

She lightly chuckled. “Ah, yes. After Herst then. I say after the Humbrick Ball. The season would be ending by then.”

“Who will break the news?”

She turned to him. “Fencing?”

He shrugged. “If I win, you tell them.”

“If I win, you tell them and then deal with the aftermath.”

They fell silent and finished their drink. “Let us bring the child to Herst,” she said.

“Are you certain?”

“We cannot leave her here where she may do something drastic. I want to see her interact with other children. And I want Shaw to be there.”

Taking her empty glass from her, he set them on the stone handrail before leaning against it, facing her, arms crossed over his chest. “Are you too bored you are thinking of making an experiment on the child?”

“Are you not curious how her mind works? She grew up in Belcourt. I want to know how they manipulate these children.”

He fell silent. “You are serious.”

“Of course.”

“Your brother will cause a scene, Elle. You will be exposing his daughter to a High Priestess.”

“Was,” she corrected. “Was a High Priestess. If she is telling the truth, of course. We need to know more from her.”

“She is not talking about many things.”

She shrugged. “Not yet.”

“Please tell me you will not threaten her.”

“I might. Do you think she will be frightened of the sea?”

His shoulders shook in laughter. “I should not even be laughing. You are absurd.”

“I wonder if she is afraid of sharks.”

“Stop it,” he said, reaching for her hand. She let him and stepped closer when he gave a tug.

“This is turning into a habit of yours,” she said, stepping between his open legs. “Kissing me when you are amused.”

“Also because you look marvelous in this gown. Because you look uncomfortable in it and you hate it,” he said, pressing a smile against her tight lips. “Open,” he murmured when she did not. “Elle,” he whispered, tone laced with warning, when she remained motionless.

She scoffed, enjoying his struggle.

From below, they could hear a woman laughing as her companion talked animatedly. These people they did not know were having a grand time. They might as well enjoy this night as well, she decided, wrapping her arms around his neck. She opened her mouth, meeting his tongue halfway. It still baffled her how he could kiss better than the last. Or why she could not resist him.

“Sometimes, I wonder,” he said, pulling away from the balcony, leading her against the doorframe. “Why have we never thought of this sooner?”

“I had other things that satisfied me,” she instantly replied, running her fingers along his jaw. “I like your bristles.”

A rough breath and she was pressed against the doorframe, kissed with hunger one moment, then teased with light kisses.

He pulled away, grabbing her hand. Ellise rolled her eyes as he guided her inside the darkness of the library, quite certain they would not go far tonight. He led her to the chaise and she pulled away just far enough to say, “We are not doing it here, are we?”

He shrugged. “Of course.”

“When we do it, I want it done in bed.”

He bent and sucked on her pulse. “Why?”

“That is the ideal furniture.”

He leaned back, eyes laced with mirth. “No, not really.” He motioned his head to the table. “That is a good candidate.”

“A secondary one on my list.” He pulled her down on the chaise where she easily straddled his lap. “And this is uncomfortable,” she added, as he gathered the skirts with expert hands. Her mauve dress glittered against the faint moonlight. “Have you ever had intercourse on a chaise? You seem to know your way.”

He silenced her with his mouth, his tongue finding hers in a long, breathless kiss. His hands found her thighs underneath her skirts. And then he found her. She buried her face in his neck, murmuring where she wanted his fingers. “Do not ruin my hair,” she rasped hotly in his mouth, hips restless against his hands.

But he seemed to not be listening. He swiveled her to the side and she fell on the length of the chaise. However he managed it, she could not precisely tell, but he did. His mouth replaced his hand and it was… powerful. Her fingers tugged his hair, her eyes flying to the door for one breathless second. If someone was to come in and ruin this moment, Ellise was quite certain blood shall be spilled tonight.

She had imagined this many times, with a man, a woman. But not with him. And he had always been just around, a presence all too familiar.

As she shattered, there on the chaise, with naught but his mouth and fingers, Ellise knew Robert Dior was one bloody good lover and she could not wait for the entire thing.

He nipped kissing on her thigh as she spasmed, then back on her neck, her ears, his hands kneading to help ease her back to her senses. “I want to pleasure you,” she said, chest heaving.

“You are already doing so.”

“I mean in a way you pleasure yourself.”

His face grew tight and he groaned. “No.”

“Why?”

“How I pleasure myself differs slightly from when a woman does it.”

“In what way?” she asked, growing frustrated with his reluctance. Did he think she would not be as good as his past lovers?

He shifted uncomfortably above her. “They use something else other than their hands,” he finally said.

She blinked, and then her eyes widened. “That’s what the jams are for.”

Dior blinked at her in confusion. “Jams?”

“I heard Aliya and Caroline discuss about it in secret.” She grinned, finally feeling a little less dumb. “I understand now. You also use your mouth.”

His groan echoed in the library. He pushed back and started to say, “Perhaps we should wait for the perfect time. This is not a splendid idea.”

“Teach me,” she ordered, pushing his shoulders she they sat face to face. She raised on her knees and hovered above him. “Teach me,” she said against his mouth.

He groaned. “Good Lord, you are serious.”

“I rarely am not.” She reached for the buttons of his trousers. “Teach me?”

A guttural sound rumbled out of his chest. “Bloody hell. Yes.”

---

Ruby entered the Village, the hood of her red cloak down. She smiled at the passing servants who wished her good evening. Her footsteps echoed in the easing quiet night. Soon, the Village would start to fall asleep along with the other courts.

It did not take long to reach the Tea House.

Keisha, a woman with short red hair and green eyes, greeted her. “I have not seen you in a while, my lady,” the woman said, pointing her to a table in one corner. “They’re already waiting.”

Ruby found three women, two with blond hair and one brown, sitting around the table. She approached them with a smile.

“Hello,” she greeted, taking the empty seat beside the brown-haired servant.

All three regarded her with wary curiosity.

“I am certain you know me. And I believe I know you as well, Fatima, Shay, and Carrie.”

Fatima was the first to break her silence. “What can we do for you, Lady Ruby?”

Ruby calmed her racing heart and crossed her fingers beneath her cloak. “I need your help.”

X | Children

Crossing the sea was not as she had expected.

Chaotic and chilly, the wind was not to Leila’s liking. That she had to travel with Ellise St. Vincent merely made the journey to Herst uninviting. The woman regarded her knowingly, as if she knew her secrets. There was not a gentle soul in the woman. Ellise St. Vincent did not respect her at all.

She remembered Albert’s words. He said people outside Belcourt always saw children as frail, easily manipulated. She relayed the same thing to the woman on the deck with the other passengers as they approached the island of Herst. Not far away was Robert Dior, giving instructions to his footmen. “You have very little regard to children,” she added to her first statement.

“I do not think children are frail, child,” Ellise said with a scoff, looking down at her as if she was thinking just that. “They are cunning and intelligent. But also full of fantasies.”

Leila gritted her teeth. Her eyes flickered away from Ellise St. Vincent. “Then you have not seen enough of Belcourt’s children.”

“There are other children far wiser than you. You are not the only one.” The woman shrugged. “I know I was when I was your age.” She looked ahead at the island.

Her lips curled just slightly, the tension between them so new to her. She had never felt so challenged by anyone. Even Albert respected her, cared for her like she was family. This woman would soon realize what she was capable of. She would regret ever putting her in the same basket as other children outside Belcourt. “If you are so wise, you would not be here with me,” she said. “If you truly believe I’m deceiving Robert Dior, you would not have shown yourself to me.”

Ellise did not answer for a long time. But the woman was only waiting for Leila to spare her a glance. “Because you may be a threat?”

“Yes.” She looked away. “You do not know what I’m capable of.”

Ellise scoffed. “You are a child.” Turning to look down at her once again, the woman tilted her head to the side. “Smart as you may be, child, you have much to learn.”

“I believe I was taught well by my mentor.”

The woman looked at her, and there it was again…the knowing, mocking smile. “Then why are you outside? If you are telling the truth, how did you get dethroned?”

She just scoffed. This woman did not know what she was talking about. Fool .

Ellise sighed, an amused one. No… it was reproachful. Condemning. Then she said, “One thing your mentor should have taught you first is that leaders do not go out and put themselves in danger. You keep yourself safe because that’s how your subjects survive. You are a useless leader if you are defeated in battle. Why do you think the pawns are placed in front of everyone else?”

“You are saying I am a pawn.”

Ellise shook her head. “The people who put so much trust in you should have known better. They should have not planted fantasies in your head.”

“They never did,” she gritted out.

The woman broke into a smile. “Pride, child, shall be your downfall.”

Her nostrils flared. This woman could drive her to a different height of anger, but Leila reminded herself to be calm. “But I am no longer High Priestess.”

“As you say,” the woman replied in a bored tone. They stood side by side, their hair floating in the wind, hers a mass of straw sheet; Ellise’s a tail of brown ribbon flipping with the waves. “Do you know what children do?” Ellise asked, stealing a glance. “They play. They learn and dream. What you do is dream, child. That you have power. But in fact, you are in a game where you are the pawn. Someone is making you play and you do not even realize it.” Turning to leave, Ellise added, “Someone gave you a toy and you willingly accepted. You may be telling the truth. You may not. Either way, you made the first wrong move.”

Leila sharply turned, eyes burning with rage that threatened to lash as strong as the waves.

“Do you hate me more now?” Ellise asked. “As expected from a young mind who had been told she will always win. You do not know the true meaning of failure. If you are no longer the High Priestess, you would know. But it seems you do not. That is why I think you are lying. But then, I could be wrong and it is mere pride driving you. I’m wiser than you, but I’m not perfect.”

Leila’s lips were stiff. She wanted to shout at Ellise St. Vincent, tell her she was nothing, that she could send Soldiers while she slept and she would never wake up. She could do so much to this woman who dared teach her because she thought she was wiser. But Leila would not do that. Not yet.

If she wanted Robert Dior’s trust, she would have to deal with his fiancée who knew nothing but throw insults; by associating herself with men she thought powerful. Ellise St. Vincent was naught but a woman dolled up by her mother to marry a future duke. They may have years between them, but Leila was certain she knew more about playing games. This woman was the pawn. Soon, when Robert Dior tired of her, she would find herself in the same shoes as others who had no rights, no dignity. She may be future duchess, but she would never be queen.

Her anger had subsided by the time they reached land. She could once more ignore Ellise St. Vincent as she shared a carriage ride with the woman and Dior, on the way to the St. Vincent estate in Winfield.

She had so many questions about the place. She wanted to know how many people were on the island, if there were other ports, but she stopped herself. They would only think she was ignorant.

This place was not safe for her, she thought when they entered the large manor not long after they left the port. It was as she had expected—a large white manor with white columns, screaming with power.

But it was too loud. A little boy was running around the hall, excited to see Ellise. And somewhere, a baby was crying. Soon after, she learned who the mother was.

It was no other than Aliya Guideville herself. She would have not recognized the woman if not for Oliver St. Vincent, who introduced his wife without providing other information other than her name. Aliya smiled to her, told her she should feel welcome in Winfield, take advantage of the sea to recuperate her injured leg, and then took her baby out to the veranda with the little boy Leila later learned was named Mason.

There were other adults in the manor, but they were not available to meet a mere child from Belcourt. However, there were two other children exactly the same age as her.

“I’m Camila,” said the girl with curly blond hair and chestnut eyes. “This is Jamie.” She motioned at the boy beside her who had the same brown hair and eyes as Trent Durham, his brother.

She wondered where these two were when Leila was on a shipwreck. They must have been in the arms of their mothers. Safe, pampered, told they were perfect.

“We are betrothed,” Camila’s words drew her back.

Leila’s brows cocked. “Betrothed,” she repeated, glancing at both children. “Why?”

Jamie shrugged. “To unite our families.”

“You mean to unite your fortunes and influence.”

The pair looked at each other and smiled. “Of course.”

“Odd.”

“No, not at all,” Camila said, shaking her head. “My sister is married to his brother.”

“You are Caroline’s sister.”

“Yes,” said the girl. Looking around, she asked, “Would you like to join us?”

“Join you where?”

“We have been guarding a nest at the edge of the woods nearby,” Jamie explained. “We should go there now before any animals come and eat the eggs.”

She was uncertain she wanted to guard a nest, but Camila took her hand and led her outside on the wide veranda that opened to the sea behind the manor. “You only have one crutch?”

“I was freed of the other a week ago.”

“Good. We should be careful, Jamie. Leila is injured. Guide her down the steps.”

“We should take Mason with us,” Jamie told Camila as he stepped down the steps, taking Leila’s hand. “Ellise taught him how to ward off a wild boar one summer ago. He shall be useful.”

Camila nodded and turned toward the direction of Aliya, walking by the shore with her child, Mason running and circling her. “I will get him. But we have to get rid of the nanny. She is too fainthearted.”

Soon, the three of them, together with Mason holding a stick in one hand, marched to the edge of the woods.

Leila looked over her shoulder, at the slight form of Aliya and her child, the nanny looking around for Mason. Everyone else had disappeared into the tearoom, probably planning how they should deal with her here.

---

“Two months!” Oliver erupted in the study, glaring at Robert and Trent. “Two bloody months with that child here in Winfield! Are you bloody insane!”

“This is Darcy’s decision,” Robert droned. “She thinks it best to keep the child away from Coulway.”

“Of course, it’s Darcy’s decision! You must all think just because I’m too bloody good, I would take in anyone for charity!”

“She also said that, yes,” Robert said. “And she knows you would want to study the child, see how she behaves around normal people.”

“She will be with my family. There is nothing normal with the St. Vincents!”

“She meant the Diors,” Trent pointed out.

“If a High Priestess can get out of Belcourt, they can very well cross the sea and get here! Good Lord, my family is here. Mason is here!” Oliver hissed, his large form seemingly expanding as his anger grew.

“I will be here, St. Vincent,” Trent said. “Darcy gave us orders to watch. Your group is with mine nearby. Shaw’s group is on their way. They shall stay in the cabin in the woods.”

Oliver shook his head. “This is insane.”

“Stay in Herst with the child,” Robert added. “Two months is not too long.”

Oliver frowned. “You sound like you are not staying. This excursion is happening because of your engagement with my sister.”

Robert nodded, then sighed. “You and I both know Darcy has other priorities in Coulway.”

“Was this part of Sasha’s plans?”

Again, Robert nodded. “Taking Leila away will protect her if she is telling the truth; or take her out of the equation if she is planning something. Either way, we can move on with our plans if the child stays here. You were quite chummy with the child in Coulway.”

“Well, that was because she was not living with me!”

“Sheridan Garmont believes she is compromised. There are men following her. And she is working on a bigger project as she says. I have no one else I can trust to guard her in Coulway. And we cannot spare and expose more Royals. We all know Belcourt is not the only ones wary of us. Herst is the closest thing to prison this child could get—Darcy’s words, of course.”

“I swear if she does anything to anyone in Winfield—”

“We can deal with her,” Trent interjected.

“Oh, no. I will not dare touch a child. But I’m certain my wife will. Or your wife,” he said, pointing at Trent. “Or Camila and Jamie!”

Trent rolled his eyes. “Do not be dramatic, St. Vincent. I will be here. So will everyone else. Aliya will know how to deal with her.”

Robert straightened his coat. “Now, if we are done, may I excuse myself? The parents are currently discussing the settlement.”

---

The three men found Caroline and Aliya in the tearoom, their ears pressed against the wall that separated them from the library where Mr and Mrs St. Vincent and the Duke and Duchess of Calbridge were in discussion.

“What are you doing?” Oliver asked, walking over to his wife who pressed a finger on her mouth. “Are you eavesdropping?” he asked, aghast, before joining the two ladies, pressing his ear on the wall, covered with light blue damask wallpaper.

“This is spying,” said Caroline, grinning when Trent walked over and leaned against the wall with interest. “You know these parents are capable of something diabolical. We have to save our friends.”

Dior went straight to join Ellise, who stood in front of the window, studying the ocean outside. She observed Leila walking by the shore with Camila and Jamie, Mason and his stick not far behind.

“They came from the woods,” she informed him.

“The others look alive.”

“She would not dare hurt them. She is should at least be wise enough to know that.”

“They are now discussing the dowry,” Aliya said by the wall, addressing no one in particular.

“Yes, I agree with mother,” Oliver said after a while. “Should Ellise die, the money should go to the children.”

Ellise frowned, tilting her head slightly as she listened to the reports from behind.

“But what if they do not bear children?” Caroline wondered.

“My daughter shall naturally get the money, of course,” Oliver said.

“Ollie!” his wife hissed.

“Are the pair of you not interested at all?” Oliver addressed his question at Dior and Ellise.

“No,” they replied.

“This is your settlement agreement, Ellise. You might want to be more involved.”

“I trust my mother to defend my interests,” she replied, eyes on the children. Leila had stopped walking. Camila urged her to sit on the sand with her while Jamie showed Mason how to defend himself with a parry. “The child already knows how to parry and riposte. I do not know why he is pretending not to.”

“He enjoys Jamie’s attention perhaps,” Dior said. “Or he must have forgotten how to do it.”

She threw him a look, then realized he had a grin on his face. “You are teasing.”

“He has a good stance.”

“Of course, he does.”

They fell quiet as their friends murmured information one of them missed to each other.

“Camila and Jamie are perhaps the worst example of normal children,” Dior said.

“They are simply odd.”

The sky had turned orange, with streaks of lavender and other shades of pink. Soon, it would be dark. “I’m going to the woods after dinner,” she said. “We should check the cabin before Shaw’s group arrives.” Under her breath, she asked, “Have you given Trent the instructions?”

“Yes.”

“And others in Coulway?”

“They will wait for us there.”

“You told them none may leave the city?”

“Of course,” he droned. “You are terribly anxious.”

“I’m not. I’m excited.”

They looked over their shoulder when Trent chuckled at something he heard. Catching them, he said, “The duchess wants the firstborn to be called Augustus Claude.”

“But I may bear a daughter.”

“As your mother pointed out,” Trent said, shoulders shaking. “To which your mother,” he said, pointing at Dior, “the name can be changed to Augusta Claudia.”

“It is not a bad name,” Oliver said.

“It is, darling,” Aliya said, shushing his argument with her finger.

They turned away and faced the window again. “Is it because the child is now out of the picture? Your excitement?”

“Of course.”

“They may look for her.”

“They will have to deal with our men here. Father has men all over the island. The Royals will know the very moment someone from Belcourt arrives in Herst.”

“You truly thought this through.”

“I have nothing else to do in the past few weeks. Of course, I did,” she murmured.

“Shaw and his men will not like your cabin.”

Ellise just smiled. The cabin deftly hid thirty minutes away from the edge of the woods, tucked from view by three giant alders, camouflaged by leaves and wood from the same trees. Built for Ellise by his father when she went through a phase of hating all things human, she had many good days there. Now, it was used only for occasions when she wanted to be left alone in peace.

“Your collection of taxidermy animals will not make their nights easy.”

“Unless they sleep with their eyes open, I’m certain they will be fine.” Then she added, “We will not be missed tonight. We can spend the night in the cabin.”

“No way in bloody hell,” he said, shaking his head. “I would not make love to you with those animals looking on.”

“They’re dead.”

“Their eyes look alive.”

“Those are not real eyes.” Caroline gasped at something. They looked over at the two couples still pressed against the wall. “Your dowry can build you an entire hospital, sister,” Oliver relayed. “Should you die, Alannah will be rich.” He received another slap from his wife for that.

She looked away and murmured to Dior, “And Emory?”

“The missive was sent, but we can only hope.”

Her smile stretched wider. “This will be quite exciting.”

Dior hummed a yes. “We will be alone in Coulway,” he murmured to her, stepping closer, just slightly behind her, taking her hand in his.

“I know.”

“Will you stay in my villa?”

“That depends on what you plan to offer,” she said, biting back a smile. By now, the children were all sitting on the sand, watching the sun disappear behind the horizon.

His finger drew deliberately drew circles in the middle of her palm. “Do you have expectations?”

“You know how I feel toward expectations,” she managed, moistening her lips when he raised her hand, brushing it with just the slightest touch of his lips.

“That they bound to disappoint.”

“Yes.”

“I do not plan to disappoint you.”

“One reason I chose you,” she retorted.

“I’ll make you scream,” he said, voice thick. A prickle shot through her spine. He lowered her hand but did not let go, tracing a finger along one finger. “First with my fingers.” Looking over his shoulder, he stepped closer, lips brushing the lobe of her ear. “Then with my mouth.” He leaned away, digging his thumb in the middle of her finger, just deep enough to send a shot of tingling sensations through her arm. “Then you will beg.”

She moistened her lips again, quite aware he could do those things. Her heart hammed in her chest, anticipating the moment.

His warm thumb rested on her wrist. “Your heart is racing.”

“You sound proud because you know you’re the reason.”

His smile was disarming because it was the rare kind. “I am,” he replied.

“We will leave tonight.” She could tell he read her thoughts. He nodded.

Aliya was laughing at something, but this time, they did not look back.

“If this Monday does not happen, Dior,” she almost growled under her breath, “say goodbye to your villa because I shall burn it down.”

He chuckled. “It will be a different burning, Elle.”

She pulled from his grasp. “I already am,” she said, tone deadly. “Burning.”

His eyes turned darker than it already was, clouded by potent desire. She turned and left the tearoom to call Mason. Perhaps the child could tell her about his adventure with Leila in the woods.

---

Leila woke up the next day and sprang up in bed in panic. Then she remembered where she was.

Winfield.

She was alone in a large room. The bed larger than the one she had in Coulway, the walls painted white; the windows showing the ocean outside. White curtains filtered the sunlight, which was warm on the sheets and her skin.

A maidservant was humming a tune as she walked. “Where’s Bella?” she asked. “My maid in Coulway.”

“Good morning, Miss,” said the middle-aged woman, carrying a pitcher to the washbasin. “I’m not familiar with your maid in Coulway, but I assume she must have stayed on the mainland. There are enough servants in Winfield. Now, we should prepare you for breakfast.”

“Where’s Robert?”

The maid blinked in confusion. “Why, he left, Miss.”

“When will he be back?”

“We are uncertain.”

“What do you mean? Where did he go?”

“He left last night with Miss St. Vincent. They have both been invited to a ball in the mainland. And she has to return to her studies. As her fiancé, it is only natural he would want to also stay in Coulway.”

She stiffened. “Then why am I here?”

“You are here as a guest of the family, of course. Small child like you will not enjoy Coulway this season. Here, there are too many things to do.”

“You mean to say they left me here?”

The maid grew uncomfortable. “Well, surely not in the way you think, Miss. They left you here to enjoy the excursion.”

No, they left me here alone!

“Two months will not be too long in Herst, I swear.”

“Two months?”

Dread slithered up her spine.

They trapped her here!

---

Sheridan walked into the room and found Ruby already sitting there. The woman’s straight black hair was down, deep-set blue eyes bright and excited as she looked up. The mole under her the outer corner of her left eye lifting as she smiled and said, “I have done it. They will help me.”

Sheridan nodded and closed the door behind her before taking off her gloves. “Then shall we start?”

Ruby enthusiastically nodded. “Yes.” As Sheridan walked behind her desk, Ruby added, voice almost cold. “If I find out you are using me, Sherry, I will kill you myself.”

She chuckled as she watched Ruby’s perfectly beautiful face. “I know you are capable of that, darling. Fret not. Between the two of us, I am more likely to meet an unfortunate fate.”

Ruby stiffened. “Do not say that. You should help me first.”

Her chuckle rumbled and rang out in the room. “Of course.” Tearing her gaze off the Belle, she looked down. “Now, are we ready to destroy Belcourt?”

XI | Monday Night

The Humbrick Ball differed from other parties during the social season. It was not the scandals that happened there, nor the number of aristocrats who attended, their mistresses and the other activities throughout the duration of the ball. It was the secrecy attached to the week-long party; the simple rule everyone had to abide: Everyone leaves Humbrick, but everything else is left behind.

This year, everyone was eager to be rid of watchful eyes that were constantly present elsewhere. People were ready to indulge.

Belles from Belcourt were everywhere. So were the Royals. Ellise felt odd, standing in a ballroom filled with people who could easily plunge a dagger through her, and no one would be none the wiser until it was too late. Like walking around a chessboard, wary of everyone around you, expecting each piece and their likely moves, wondering which one they would take. Would they be wiser than her and surprise her? Or was she simply overestimating them and they were nothing but average players she could easily outfox?

The same questions had been bothering her for days. No—weeks. The constant anticipation was making her restless. She should have been using the time to make more plans, but thus far, she had done nothing but wait.

“You are doing it again,” Dior said beside her, his voice loud enough only for her to hear. “Killing everyone with your eyes.”

“Only those who look like they want to approach me.” She looked around, aware that there were at least ten Belles in the room. “I wonder if it is safe to be around you. These Belles could very well be here to kill you.”

His hand went to the small of her back, guiding her toward a group of gentlemen. “Then I should have invited Rothsker. He is the much preferred victim.”

“Lady Renee has just declared her nephew missing again. Why would he be here?”

“I was jesting.”

“I know.” Her eyes caught sight of the black-haired beauty across the room. “Emsworth is here,” she said, admiring Ruby in her vibrant red gown, standing beside Aaron Stanway, her flower . “She is beautiful. I quite liked her the first time we met.” She looked up at him. “You should have at least tried bedding her. I heard she does not service Emsworth with sexual gratification.”

“They are friends.” He frowned at her. “You are interested in her.”

She shrugged. “She is beautiful.”

“She is a Belle, Elle.”

“I know.” She reached up to fix his cravat, deliberately sliding her palm over his chest before dropping her hand to her side. “But you would have to do.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. Then his jaw tightened. She followed her gaze and found Sheridan Garmont in one corner, dressed in puce purple gown, smiling at a gentleman. “Why is she here?”

“To collect stories.”

“ You give her the stories. She is not supposed to be out in the open, Dior.“

He sighed. “She believes she is already compromised.”

“Then she might as well join the game?” she snapped. “This is a reckless move.”

“Everything is reckless in Humbrick.” He tore his eyes off Garmont and looked down at her as she picked up a glass of wine from a server.

She gulped it down, eliciting an amused frown from him. Handing the empty glass to a passing footman, she growled under her breath. “I hate this music.”

He grabbed her hand. “We should walk around,” he said, leading her into a lazy pace around the ballroom.

“What I need is for Macmier to get here.”

“He will arrive on time,” he said.

“He should be here by now—”

“Elle,” he interrupted, squeezing her hand. “Stop.”

“I did not wear this horrible, heavy gown to stop , Dior. We should—”

“You look beautiful in your gown,” he said. “I would love to tear it off you later.”

She threw him a mocking smile. “Other than a good sword fight with a woman from Belcourt, that is the only thing I’m looking forward to.”

“We will get to that later,” he said, voice thick with promise. “But first, walk and blow off steam. I would not want a restless lover tonight.”

His words took her mind elsewhere then, giving her a promise of something she should not even anticipate, but she did because she trusted him enough to give it. As they walked, she could imagine the dipping mattress, the feel of skin and release.

“Lord Chester!” A young woman blocked their path, her face breaking into a big smile. “Miss St. Vincent,” she added curtly, eyes flickering to their hands, before turning her charming smile back to Dior. “I am terribly glad you attended. I was told you have gone to Herst.”

Ellise stared at the lady, who was obviously ignoring her presence. Lady Barbara Mathews. Of course, the same woman—and probably the only one—who had been stalking Dior since she first laid eyes on him when she debuted two years past.

A daughter of a viscount who tolerated her every whim, Lady Barbara had always told people she would be the future Lady Chester. Tonight, the woman was wearing too much colored feathers on her sleeves that she could easily float and take flight at any moment. Her fiery red hair was down, like many of the women in this ball, displaying just how woman she was. She adorned it with a tiny tiara of pearls and diamonds.

The lively music was suddenly too loud for Ellise, being in the same room as the enemies, in a silent battle of spying and waiting, weapons at the ready; and then confronted by one desperate soldier with a needle as her weapon, pricking her patience at the wrong places, pulling her away from her satisfying imagination mere seconds ago. Worse, the music grew louder, crescendoing through her threshold of patience, burgeoning her anxiety.

“Yes,” Dior replied to the woman. “I hope you are enjoying your evening, my lady,” he added, pulling Ellise to the side to circle the woman. But of course, Lady Barbara was relentless. She stepped—or jumped—and blocked their path again.

Ellise forced a tight smile. From the corner of her eye, she could see Robert doing the same. “Would you care for a dance, my lord?” Lady Barbara asked.

“Forgive me, my lady, but I have promised Miss St. Vincent a walk around the ballroom,” Dior replied, pulling Ellise with him. But she remained rooted to the ground, staring at Lady Barbara, trapping the woman’s gaze with hers. Was it because they were in Humbrick that this woman thought it was fine to openly ask an affianced man to schottische? “Elle,” Dior said, clearing his throat.

“Then can I ask Lord Chester for a dance, Miss St. Vincent?” Lady Barbara asked, gaze and smile as shameful as her question.

“You just did, woman.” Her lips barely moved as she spoke. “And he declined.”

The lady’s smile wavered slightly. “Did you just address me informally, Miss St. Vincent?”

“Would you prefer I call you by another name? I have quite a few better words.”

“Good evening, Lady Barbara,” Dior abruptly interrupted with a tight smile at the woman, tugging at Ellise’s hand. “Elle.”

She finally let him pull her away, giving Lady Barbara a taunting smile. The woman’s face was flushed red by then, eyes as fiery as her hair.

Moments later, after two trips around the ballroom, the tips of her shoes kicking the seams of her ivory ballgown, Ellise was still restless. She could feel the leather straps around her ankle tighten as she dug her heels with each step.

“This is unlike you,” Dior said near her ear.

“I know.”

When he kept silent, she turned to him and threw him a questioning look. “You should take it easy. We just arrived from Herst yesterday.”

She looked around. There was no sign that Macmier would be arriving. And if he were, she could not easily meet the man.

“Yesterday was my most productive thus far, to be honest,” she grumbled under her breath.

“Putting on that gown, I believe, is also quite productive,” he said. “It serves its purpose.”

She stopped walking and held his gaze, her thoughts back to mattresses and pillows. “We should retire,” she whispered.

His gaze darkened. “Are you certain?”

“Of course.”

His hand went to the small of her back as he stepped closer, lips brushing against her temple as he murmured, “My chamber. Five minutes.”

And without a word, he turned around and left.

Ellise grabbed another glass of wine as she waited. As she downed its contents, she saw Barbara rushing through the crowd, eyes on the vestibule of the ballroom where Dior just exited. She swallowed hard and set her empty glass on a nearby table and swiftly shadowed the woman.

As she expected, Barbara led her down upstairs and into the corridor that led to Dior’s chamber. She could feel the leather straps around her ankle again. She could easily reach for it, perhaps teach this woman a lesson.

“Do you know what day it is?” Her question caused Barbara to jump in surprise and whirl around, facing her with wide eyes. “It’s Monday night,” she said, smiling at the woman. She stopped, just a few feet away, looking at Barbara up and down. “You should know the days I had to endure for this one particular Monday.”

Barbara frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Are you lost?” she asked instead of addressing the woman’s question.

“N-no.”

“Are you here to knock on my fiancé’s door?”

The woman sneered. “He is not your husband. And this is Humbrick.”

“And it is Monday.”

“Why do you blabber about Monday and—”

The woman stopped when Ellise stepped closer without warning, saying, “Lord Chester reserves Mondays for me, darling ,” she said, leaning closer until her mouth were almost touching the woman’s cheek. “You are welcome to join us if you wish.”

Barbara jumped away, face scarlet, eyes frantic. “Y-you—W-why would you suggest such repugnant act—”

“Then you are welcome to leave,” she droned with mock disappointment, walking past the woman. “If I see you anywhere around my gentleman again, woman, I would be far less accommodating.”

The woman’s face crumpled. “You are as they say you are, you odd… strange… wench.”

“Find better words, Barbara,” she droned. “Now, move along.”

She scoffed when Barbara spun on her heels and stalked away. Then she turned and stood outside Dior’s chamber. And she knocked.

---

“Surely it will not hurt,” she said. Robert bit a smile as he loosened his cravat. Ellise was staring at the giant bed in the center of the room, her form almost a silhouette against the candle at the head of the bed. It was not entirely dark. Apart from the candle, the faint blue moonlight filtering through the open window also provided guidance, but not enough to reveal colors.

She faced him fully. “How many women have you had?”

“Not a lot. I keep my lovers longer than most.”

“Because you get attached to them or you simply do not find a reason to find more?”

“The latter. And also because I know how to satisfy.”

She nodded. “Then you are better at this than I.”

“Apparently so.”

She moistened her lips and fell quiet.

Robert eyed her carefully. “Elle, we do not have to do this if you are unsure—”

“I want to,” she snapped. “Then I shall decide if I would like to do it again.”

“I may have to work harder then.”

“I know you will.”

His body was starting to notice her presence, and it was reacting as it should. “How would you like me to go? Slow?”

For some odd reason, this was not like their previous trysts. Because this time they knew it was actually going to happen.

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I doubt I would want that.”

He took a breath and slowly let it out, holding her gaze, seeing the play of many things there: curiosity and uncertainty wrapped in confidence.

He stood just close enough so he could feel her heat. “I will not stop the moment I kiss you. Take this as a warning. Are you certain?” he asked with an amused smile.

She nodded, swallowed. The determined look in her eyes flooded him with images of things he wanted to do to her, of the different ways she would beg.

Robert slowly bent his head, and her smell quickly filled him. Books. Coat. Shaving lather. Linen—everything familiar. A fever ran through him, slowly centering to where he needed her.

The tip of his nose touched hers, nuzzled. His eyes wandered down to her mouth. And slowly he dipped lower, lips touching hers to tease and test. Moist, soft. He kissed her then, tasting her. For that’s what she was his arms—not a woman, but simply Ellise St. Vincent. An entirely different being.

She opened wider, both of them by now too familiar with the act. But it still felt different every time. Their breaths turned heavier. He sucked her tongue into his and they found, bringing them one step closer, one step needy.

“I always liked your kisses,” she confessed against his mouth, hands on his nape, playing with his hair.

“I know. So do I.” He tugged at her lower lip and she smiled, doing the same before their mouths opened wide for another kiss. She pressed closer and pulled her hair free from its band while he unbuttoned her dress restlessly, then slowly as he pulled back to stare, mesmerized.

He cursed then, raking his fingers through her hair and pulled her closer to drag his mouth along her jaw, leaving a wet trail of tongue and teeth. “I think I want you naked,” she said, panting.

“I believe I want you the same.” He whispered, popping the last button. Then he stepped back, just enough to pull the dress down. She did not even flinch, her confidence disarming. Of course, she was not wearing a corset. This was Ellise St. Vincent, after all—friend, comrade, rival in some way. Soon-to-be-lover.

The thought caused his chest to blow. With pride? Passion? Lust? It could be anything, really.

The heavy gown pooled around her feet, and she stepped out of them in naught but her shift. His gaze faltered because the sight of Ellise in a shift was more than magnificent; because she was robed in confidence that only she could exude. The desire was intense as the pride he would often feel every time she held a weapon. And one was strapped around an ankle.

“Of course, you have a dagger,” he drawled, shrugging out of his coat. His shirt followed, falling on the floor over her gown.

She watched as he did so, calm and poised. That and her current state of undress made him want to devour her there and then, to bury himself deep inside her, to discover how warm she was, how she would clasp around him. How they would fit. But also he wanted to hear her sounds as he slowly tormented her. He wanted to destroy the calm and strong façade; to witness her struggle for release. He wanted her writhing and helpless beneath him for once in his life. Or more if she would allow it.

He stepped closer, hands on her hips, her heat searing through the thin material of her shift, giving him a hint of flesh underneath. “Do you know how this goes?” he asked, clasping the fabric into his fist.

A shaky breath escaped her lips. “I have an idea on the subject.”

He nuzzled her nose with his, moving away when she sought his mouth, then moved back in to steal a kiss. “And what have you found?”

Her lids fluttered halfway as his hands kneaded her hips, gathering more fabric of her shift in his fists as he did so, inching them higher, exposing her. “That a man enjoys it.”

“We do. And what for the woman?”

“I would have to write the book myself.”

He chuckled. “Not very helpful books.”

“Very unhelpful.”

One hand slithered between her legs and her hands clutched his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin; her breathing came out short, hitching as he moved his hand. His mouth sought hers in a soft, lazy kiss, mirroring his fingers, slowly building an ember. Ellise wound one arm around his shoulder and she looked down between them, boldly staring at where his hand disappeared beneath the bundle of fabric. He sought her lower lip, nibbled and tugged.

He hissed a curse. He needed her now. But she felt so good he did not want to end this; she sounded beautiful, gasping softly in his mouth, sharing his hot breath. It was musical, Robert thought, how their pants echoed in the room, following a natural rhythm, disappearing in the shadowed corners.

He backed her to the foot of the bed and pushed her to sit. She clutched his arm when he withdrew his hand, nails digging, and he gave it back to her, this time a little near enough. A strangled sound escaped her parted lips when he gave just a little more. Seeking. Deeper. Firm.

He leaned down and kissed her, guiding her on her back. “No…” she protested when he withdrew his fingers and hovered over her.

“What do you want?” he asked, taking her hands in his, sliding them high over her head, stretching her beneath him. She squirmed and tried to tug free. Of course, she would; she never enjoyed being vulnerable. And right now, her hands pinned on the mattress, his wide form looming over her, she was helpless.

“What do you want?” he asked against her mouth, stepping between her legs, spreading them wider. He grazed her thighs with the rough material of his trousers.

“This… and more,” she said through gritted teeth.

A grunt rumbled out of him, feeling her softness against his heavy arousal. She was just a fabric away, moist and within his reach. Her breath hitched when he slid against it once. She whimpered when he did it again. And again. Then more, unable to help himself. He growled another curse into her neck, and more guttural sounds escaped him as he moved against her, loving the torture. “Good God, Elle…” He swallowed, voice strained, “… so good.”

Her hands tugged free and he let her because he was as restless. Perhaps later there would be time for slow. She clutched the sheets above her and tugged. Her head arched back, her hips moving frantically beneath the friction of his trousers, of her shift against her breast as he took it into his mouth, soaking the thin material. Not quite satisfied, he shoved her shift higher to capture her bare breast into his mouth, and a deep groan of relief vibrated from both of them.

Who would have thought they would be like this? He meant to tell her that, but her hand clasped his hair, and he forgot because the torture was becoming relentless. Grinding against her as if he was already inside her, he built a fire.

“I think it’s time,” she choked out, her words laced with uncertainty because she was just as lost. It was there in her half-opened eyes which reflected the flickering candlelight, in the flush of her cheeks, the open mouth, the heaving chest.

“Not quite,” he said, kissing her hungrily again before he left her to kneel on the floor between her legs. He pulled her hips closer and claimed her with his mouth, laving as if it was what he intended to do from the start.

He pushed her back on the bed with one hand flat on her abdomen when she writhed beneath him, hissing orders to stop.

No, don’t.

Please, there.

Stop it. I can’t.

Yes.

“Dior,” she called, rising on her elbows, mouth open, nostrils flared, her brown hair a glorious mess as she stared down at him between her legs, as if she was trying to decide if she should murder him now or later. Then she fell back in surrender, a helpless heap on the bed, her digging deep into the mattress as she moved in rhythm with his mouth and hands, utterly shameless in taking pleasure, just like the many times they tortured each other in the last few weeks.

While she was heady with passion, Robert freed himself from his trousers and swiftly slid higher to find her mouth, swallowing her cries of protest, taking her knees, pressed them over her chest, and buried himself into her in one swift motion.

She stiffened.

Panting, then swallowed. “Does it hurt?”

“You could have warned me.” She gritted out, biting his lip. “But no, it does not hurt as much as I expected.”

“Good,” he smiled before taking her mouth, moving slow. Another torture; sliding in and out in long, painful strokes.

“This feels so good.” He shook above her, shoulders taut as tried to master himself.

She chased his mouth for a heated kiss. “Good…” she breathed, swallowing hard, her eyes fluttering open to gaze at him. “It’s so good.” Her nails dug at his back. “More.”

He blindly unstrapped the dagger from her ankle, throwing it on the floor, and pushed her knees to her chest. “More,” he promised as his pace raced with their heartbeats. The searing heat was unbearable now, and he could tell she was feeling it, too. She was restless beneath him, meeting each thrust, as greedy as he was, mouth open against his jaw, teeth grazing skin.

Her head fell back, and she choked on words that could have been blasphemous or pleading. He watched her flushed face. Her eyes were closed again, her face scarlet as she strained her neck, digging her head into the mattress. His fingers raked through her hair, then grasped just enough to make her love the pain.

No one else would see her this way, he thought. Not another soul could witness how she would lose control and offer herself in surrender. And he would hate to have another hear her beg like she was now, crying for them to give her what she wanted.

His muscles bunched as he lowered himself on his forearms. Thrusting her deeper into the mattress, tormenting her because this was profound and surreal. He had imagined this, yet why could he not believe it? She—her sounds, her skin, her unspoken thoughts—were as familiar as the touch of cotton fabric on his skin, but still as different with each clothing. She was like the constant changing season, but still as new as every first snowfall in winter. An inveterate part of his being that changed with each touch, shifting with each breath.

Finally, she went rigid, eyes tight as a strangled sob drifted through her lips as she shattered. And Robert let go, like he was chasing wind, racing for his own release. Mouth open against her neck in a soundless cry, he plunged himself into an endless groundswell of consciousness and sensations.

The heat was immense, scattering to the tips of his fingers. He fell onto her and his hands wound around her shoulder and waist, hips jerking a few more times as he spent himself into her.

A shudder ran through them both. Then the cool night wind. And then the wonder and surprise. They had just discovered something.

Breathless and panting, he rolled to the side, taking her with him, and met her eyes. “Unexpected?”

“I honestly thought it would be a chore,” she admitted, running fingers through his hair, a small smile curling her swollen mouth.

“A bloody good chore.” Robert looked over his shoulders. Spotting where their clothes were, sensing his trousers still around his ankles, he scoffed. He rolled his head back down toward her and buried his face in her neck, tasting salty sweat and heated skin. “Elle, we are both bloody fortunate. We shall enjoy being lovers.”

He felt her swallow. “I expect more of this.”

He kissed his way back to her mouth, rolling her on her back again. “There are many ways to do this, you know. Now that I’ve had a sample, I’m quite eager to show you more,” he said, pressing his hips closer, reminding her they were still connected.

“Now?”

He groaned. “Later.”

She squirmed beneath him. “You’re not yet ready.”

He smiled against her lips. “No.”

She blinked impatiently. “Then when will you be?”

“A couple more minutes,” he said, kissing her again.

She fell quiet. Then a curious frown. “How many ways?”

He bit her lower lip. “ Many . Hours of many .“

“Interesting.”

“Exhilarating too.”

“Perfect.” She leaned away just enough to ask, “How did I do?”

He groaned into her neck. “Like the first time you beat me at fencing.”

Much later, after they fell asleep, sated and completely naked, Robert’s valet knocked on the door and slipped into the room. The man’s eyes widened when he saw Ellise sleeping flat on her chest, her naked back and hips exposed. He stiffly turned around as Robert pulled the covers higher and asked, “What is it?”

“He has arrived, my lord,” the valet murmured over his shoulder.

Robert nudged Ellise awake, and as she stirred, he pulled the covers higher to her shoulders. “And?” he asked.

“The crown prince is here with the princess.”

Ellise grinned. “Perfect,” she croaked.

“You can leave now, Pier.”

“G-good night, my lord,” the valet said, bowing at the window before he disappeared, sidestepping toward the door.

“We should go down,” Ellise said, climbing over him.

He caught her in his arms, throwing her back on the bed. “No.”

She glared at him. “Of course, we are.”

“No. We wait until the morrow.”

“Because you intend to debauch me again, or it is a bad idea to show ourselves downstairs?”

“Both. And also,” he said, stripping her of the sheets. “They do not have to see us.”

She wound her arms around his neck. “But you will bring me Macmier tomorrow.”

“I promise,” he murmured in her mouth.

She grinned against his smile. “Are you quite ready to steal a princess?”

XII | Blackballed

The morning light was warm, seeping through the white curtains. Her moans floated in all corners; soft, phantom-like, a breath of heady passion. A pillow fluffed on the floor over discarded garments. The cover was slowly sliding down as well. The bed, enormous as it may be, creaked in its joints.

There was a battle going on in bed, one between two creatures who wanted to dominate. Ellise growled in frustration when Dior pushed her on her back and pinned her shoulder on the mattress with one hand, the other holding her knee close to her breast as he rammed into her, hard.

She would have allowed it, but she was enjoying the previous torment she was giving him. Twisting away from his hold, she rolled him on his back to bestride him. His hands gripped her hips tightly when she slowed down, biting her lip as she savored each sensation, inch by inch.

He pushed up and pulled out of her, covering her furious cry of protest with his mouth, punishing her with his tongue and teeth. “Turn,” he ordered, gripping her hips and turning her to face the wooden poster at the foot of the bed. “Hold,” he added, guiding her hands to wrap around the rod. Her heart thudded, following his demand because it sounded promising. He spread her legs apart with one knee and then took her from behind, pushing her higher against the poster, his arms around her, one hand around her neck and jaw, the other between her legs, tormenting her from behind, showing her more than promised.

She choked out a curse as he quickened his pace, biting her neck as he did so. It was too much. It was a different height. And God, the fall was spectacular.

Thousands of heartbeats later, still shuddering, they fell back onto the mattress. He sought her mouth, hands caressing everywhere he earlier dug and punished.

“We should cease fencing. I enjoy my defeat in bed far more,” she said against his languid kiss.

He gathered her brown locks off her neck and shoulders and grinned as he rained kisses down her jaw.

Much later, they both dressed, then undressed before they reached the door. He showed her how their time in the closet in Sinclair should have ended by dragging her to the one standing in the corner of the room. And as they dressed again hours later, he promised to show her how the chaise might make her change her mind.

“Later. We have another piece to take out,” she said, looking out the window. “And a storm is underway.”

---

Leila watched with curiosity as Oliver St. Vincent removed the bandages. How could such giant hands be so gentle? And how could such a humongous man be so comical after the morning drama in the breakfast room?

“Do you think the wedding will not happen now?” she asked while he helped her take her first steps out of her crutches.

He frowned. “Why do you think so?”

“Because your mother had a quarrel with the duchess.”

“They did?” he asked.

It was her turn to frown. “Yes. You were there.”

“I’m quite certain it was just a small spat between two very proud women,” he said.

“But if it’s not, then the wedding may not happen.”

“The wedding will happen, child,” Oliver said. “Dior is with my sister in Coulway. Whatever happens between our mothers, those two will have to marry.”

“But if—”

“Now, now, stop with questions about the wedding. Why don’t you show Camila and Jamie your new leg?”

She frowned at the scar on the outer portion of her left thigh. It did not look new. It would stay with her forever. She only hoped it would be worth it. Looking up at Oliver St. Vincent, she smiled. “Thank you, Doctor.”

He grinned, his bearded face suddenly bright. “You are much welcome. Now, go. And don’t drag Mason around with you this time. He has lessons.”

Not much later, Leila was back at the edge of the woods with Camila and Jamie, the three of them hiding behind the thick wild laurel, far away from the nest. The chirping of birds and the rustling of the trees broke the constant sound of the waves. Jamie was holding a stick to ward off squirrels and smaller animals. Camila, sitting on the ground covered with a blanket, was frowning at her journal.

“Jamie, I believe the babe should be in the western wing.”

“Why?”

“Well, you see, if the babe cries, it would be quite a bother.”

“Camila, the babe always stays with its parents.”

“Not all the time.”

Leila frowned. “What babe?”

“Ours,” the two chorused.

“Yours?”

“Our future child,” Camila explained, tucking curly blond locks behind her ear.

She blinked. “You are making plans on where to put your child?”

“Yes, of course. This is the fun part about being betrothed, see?” The girl showed her a rough sketch of a floor plan. “We get to plan our future.”

Jamie joined Camila on the blanket and pointed at what could have been the west wing. “If the babe cries, we will not hear it. And that’s bad, Camila. What if it’s hungry? Or hurt?”

Camila thoughtfully considered his words, biting her lower lip. “Oh, you are correct. But the nurse will be around.”

“You cannot trust our child to a nurse, you fool. Have you not heard about Tommy Greyson’s little sister?”

“What about her?”

“She almost died because the nurse dropped her.”

“Did they kill the nurse?” Leila asked.

Camila and Jamie gaped, eyes wide. “Why would they kill the nurse?” Camila asked.

“Because she dropped the child.”

“No, they did not. That’s a horrible punishment,” Jamie said with a wave of his hand. “They dismissed her, of course.” Turning to Camila, he added, “Our children shall grow up with the best nurses, but also sleep near our bedchambers until they’re old enough.”

Camila nodded and wrote notes on the journal. “We are yet to design the nursery.”

“We should design the courtyard first,” Jamie said. “I want a vast one.”

Losing interest, Leila looked around. “Have you ever entered the woods?”

“No, it’s dangerous,” Jamie replied. “Ellise forbids it.”

“Animals?”

“Wild animals.”

“Or maybe,” Leila said, craning her neck, “a secret place.” She turned and looked down at Camila and Jamie. “Mason said Ellise has a secret place in the woods.”

“All the more reason we should not go,” Jamie told her. “If it’s a secret, then she would want to keep it that way. And it’s about to rain. We should head back to the manor.”

But Leila was already walking away. If Ellise was keeping secrets, she would want to discover them.

“Leila, come back here,” Camila called out. “Jamie, tell her.”

“Leila, come back here,” Jamie said.

When she continued to ignore them, Camila and Jamie jumped to their feet and chased. “Let’s go back to the manor, Leila. A storm is underway. And your leg is not fully healed,” Jamie said, grabbing her hand.

She twisted from his grip. “You can go back, the two of you. I will return shortly.” When they looked at each other, she added, “Are you not curious?”

Camila was the first to break. She shrugged. “Well, if we can return before the rain drops…”

Jamie’s brow furrowed. He looked around and down the path, amber eyes uncertain. “This is a terrible idea.”

“We will not go far,” Leila said. “We’ll just look around.”

Jamie sighed. “Ten minutes. Then we’ll head back.”

Leila smiled and grabbed Camila’s hand. “We better not waste time then.”

Camila, now overcome by curiosity and excitement, skipped to Leila’s side. “But if we find nothing, we should head back, yes? Do you think Ellise hides her weapons in her secret place? They say she has bows and arrows.”

“We may find out, Camila. Or do you think she’s hiding something else?”

“Like what?”

“Dead bodies.”

Camila hummed, hooking her arm around Leila’s. “Animals?”

“Well, yes. Or people.”

Camila gasped. “Do not be absurd!”

“Women,” they heard Jamie grumble behind them.

---

Black clouds loomed over Humbrick, sending rain and thunder all over the estate, forcing everyone else in the party to retreat indoors and enjoy various entertainments in the parlors and gaming rooms.

One particular drawing room, however, was spared of fun and games. Ten palace guards lined the entire length of the corridor, and five more men dressed in black coats stood nearby, eyeing the ten men in red and blue.

Inside the drawing room, Robert sat by the fire. Across from him, the crown prince himself, Emory Louis Frederick Davercher. The young prince’s slim figure and dark blond hair were a contrast to Robert’s built and dark locks. Blue eyes studied Robert with curiosity, even disbelief.

“I would have never thought, Chester, that you are with the Royal Circus,” the prince said, voice calm with a hint of amusement. “I can have my guards take you this very moment.”

“But you will not,” Robert said, clasping his hands over his lap. He did not know the crown prince well. Save for a few occasions, he never interacted with the man. And it was not as if Emory was a strong presence. Unlike his deceased brother, the former crown prince, Emory hid in the shadows of his parents. He never held parties like Albert did, nor did he dally with just any woman. One would think he was mum because he rarely spoke. But in the rare times Robert heard him speak, he had a hint that Emory was merely wearing a façade. Being silent and ignored was a choice. Behind his handsome, timid look was an intelligent man. However, Robert was still to find out if the man was wise. “This is no longer about Reginald and the king,” he said. “We have a common enemy.”

“Belcourt.”

He slowly nodded. “You coming here should mean you agree to our plans.”

“Or it may simply mean I am here to enjoy Humbrick,” the prince said with a shrug. Then he scoffed, shaking his head. “Bold of the Circus to ask my former Belle to send me a note.”

“Aliya knows the consequences of Belcourt’s plans.”

“If I should believe her—and I’m not saying I do—how do I know this is not part of the Circus’ plan to dethrone the king?”

“Your father’s dethronement will come early if you do not cooperate with us.” He unclasped his hands and rested his head on one. “The Prime Minister is planning to assassinate your father at the Kinsley Ball.”

Emory’s smile did not reach his eyes. “There is always a threat of an assassination, Chester. But I see no reason the Prime Minister would want that. Why would Magnus Westwell want to take out the king he can control and make way for the crown prince he cannot fool?”

“Because Sutherland would not need a new king. They will simply welcome an emperor.”

Prince Emory stiffened. His blue eyes dimmed, revealing the danger he was capable of if given the power.

“Belcourt is making plans with Westwell to allow the entry of the French soldiers into Sutherland.”

“The Houses will never allow that to happen,” Emory said, voice suddenly cold, eyes calculating.

“Westwell met with prominent members of both Houses. With them were ladies from Belcourt’s innermost circle. If you do not see where this is going, Your Highness, you can look back in history—at how Belcourt brought your father to power by mere manipulation.”

“My father did not—”

“Your father was a puppet from the start. He still is. He is only where he is because of the blood in his veins,” Robert interjected, straightening in his chair. His mouth curled into a faint smile. “And because of the Queen.” He saw the man’s jaw tightened. “But of course, you already know that. And you know Napoleon does not have to be a Davercher to be emperor. The days of your monarchy is numbered as we speak.”

Silence reigned in the room as Emory regarded Robert with his intense gaze. No longer was he the thin, handsome prince with golden hair. Suddenly, he looked more like a king than his father ever could be.

“Being the leader of the Royal Circus does not make you trustworthy, Chester. In fact, it makes you a traitor.”

“What makes you think I’m the Royal Master?”

“Is that what you call your leader? The Royal Master?”

“You call yours Belcourt,” he said with a shrug. “That’s your true master, Your Highness. For years, in fact.”

Emory’s eyes were a pair of minacious blue spheres. But he remained quiet, scrutinizing Robert from where he sat in his chair, looking regal in his red and gold mantle, a façade of his family’s power.

“We shall not lose much should you refuse our help. In fact, we already established foundations for our plans. But the Royal Master believes that with your cooperation, we can easily deal with Belcourt.”

“Bring me this Royal Master.”

“I’m afraid you cannot meet him. You will only have me, I’m afraid.”

“And yet you expect me to hand over my sister.”

Robert nodded, smiling at the man’s palpable anger. “Can you imagine what the people will think the moment they find out that the princess killed Prince Albert?” Emory’s jaw tightened. Good. “She would not suffer at all. They may demand she be hanged, but that would be the extent of it,” Robert said with a shrug. “But you will face the consequences. After all, you are reaping the benefit of Prince Albert’s death.”

“Whatever Esther did shall be dealt with by me the moment I gather enough—”

“We will not hurt her. We only want to keep her away from the little power she holds. Her disappearance will make things easy for you and the Circus. It will distract the king and cause a slight unrest in the parliament, giving us enough time to act. She has a personal vendetta against Belcourt and it is making her a liability.” He sighed and wryly looked around the room when Emory frowned in confusion. But Robert did not plan to spend the entire day explaining everything to a prince. So before the man could ask his questions, he spoke again. “She easily killed Albert right under your nose. How certain are you that you will not be next when it is clear that your enemy is very much closer to home?” The prince shook his head. “We care not how you see your sister, but we know you recognize what she’s capable of. Otherwise, you would not have brought her here when we asked you to.”

Emory stared at him for a long time as the sky thundered outside, the rain hard against the windowpanes. Finally, the prince spoke. “The moment you kill my sister, you’re dead, Chester. No one punishes her but us.”

Robert nodded and rose from his seat. “The Royal Master wishes to continue working with you once this is all over.”

“You mean when Reginald gets here.”

“Let us not get ahead of ourselves. For now, the Royal Circus is working with you.”

“Then tell your Royal Master to stop the nonsense about Belcourt and the king on the Sutherland Post,” the prince demanded. “I know the Circus is behind it all. Stop planting ideas in people’s heads.”

“You do not agree with the articles?”

“Reginald was a monster. The stupid articles are painting him to be a saint.”

Robert shrugged. “The articles about the king and Reginald shall stop, but Belcourt will continue to be attacked. Is there anything else?”

“Who is running Belcourt now?”

Robert sighed. “You are the ignorant brother, after all.” Before the prince could lunge for him, Robert stepped back, shaking his head. “I will tell you everything you need to know once we have the princess. Good day, Your Highness.”

---

Esther was surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting inside her bedchamber in Humbrick, the largest one the mistress could provide for a princess. She studied her gown with less enthusiasm than before.

“The Belles are here, and I’m wearing the most dreadful gown in the kingdom,” she whined, staring at her petite form in the mirror.

“The crown prince wishes to remind you that you are still in mourning, Your Highness,” one lady said. “Black looks beautiful on you.”

“Do not patronize me, Pippa. I know I look horrible. And it’s just the second day of Humbrick! How should I survive the rest of the week with these gowns?”

“You look beautiful,” Tanner Macmier’s voice said from the doorway.

Esther snapped her head in his direction. “What are you doing here?”

He flashed his charming smile at her. “Your guards gave me permission to enter.”

She looked at the five ladies around her. “Leave us.”

The women filed out of the room, heads bent, and left Esther alone with Tanner. He locked the door and turned to face her. “You do look awful in that gown.”

“I know.” She turned and faced him fully. “Why are you here?”

“Well, to rid you of that gown, of course,” he said, pulling at his cravat.

“I’m not in the mood, Tanner,” she said, facing the mirror again. “How many Belles are here?”

“Around a dozen.”

“And Ariel is not here?”

He stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Staring at her through the mirror, he said, “You know she’s not.”

She blindly ran her fingers through her diamond necklace. “And Royals?”

“Of course, they’re here.” He planted a kiss on her neck and gazed at the mirror. “Are you ready?”

She studied their reflection and met his eyes. “How much does this Lord Darcy want to destroy Belcourt?”

Tanner shrugged. “I honestly do not know. You do not have to meet him if you think it’s not safe.”

Her eyes never left his as he spoke. “You know that if something happens to me, my brother is here, yes?”

“You do not trust me.”

“You have been blackballed by the Royal Circus. And now they came to you to reach me. They would not have done so if you did not tell them of our… special arrangement.”

He smiled. “Darling, do you truly think your ladies-in-waiting or your servants do not talk? By now, nearly everyone in the kingdom is aware of our affair.”

She scoffed. “Do not be funny, Tanner. We are not an affair.”

“Of course.”

“You expect nothing from me.”

“I do not.”

She smiled. “Tell this Lord Darcy he will only have ten minutes of my time.”

He kissed her jaw. “Of course.”

An hour later, before she had to spend the entire night sitting in a chair with her brother in the ballroom, watching everyone else dance, Esther waited in her bedchamber. The two guards stood on each side of the doorway, ready to die for her. Just as she thought she had waited enough, the doors opened and a somewhat familiar figure stepped into the firelit room.

Robert Dior smiled at her. “Good evening, Your Highness.”

“You are Lord Darcy?”

“No,” he replied. “But I’m here under Lord Darcy’s orders.”

She stood. “Then I refuse to speak with you.”

“You do not have to. I’m here under a different order.”

“What do you mean?”

“You will be escorted to a new place,” Dior said. He looked behind him and five men filed into the room.

Esther’s eyes flickered to her guards. They remained unmoving. Her heart leapt to her throat, sensing danger. She stepped back. “What is the meaning of this?”

Robert Dior smiled. He turned and started for the door. “I will come by and visit you soon, Your Highness.”

As the men advanced toward her, Esther stumbled back in panic. “What are you doing just standing there!” she screamed at her guards. Her eyes veered back to the doorway. Robert Dior was gone.

“Get these people out of here!” she roared at the guards, but they remained where they were, staring straight ahead as if nothing was happening.

And then she realized why.

Emory.

She screamed then, but it was a futile attempt. The storm drowned her cries of fury as Robert Dior’s men grabbed her.

XIII | Blindfolds

The storm chased them through the woods. At first, they tried to run back, but Camila tripped and hurt her leg, carrying Leila with her.

“Camila!” Jamie shouted, dropping on his knees in front of the girl. “Are you hurt?”

Leila turned and peered down at Camila. The girl looked like she was about to cry, but she swallowed, her face crumpling in pain. She slowly pulled her skirts higher and revealed a bleeding knee. Jamie and Leila sighed in relief. “Just a scratch, but it hurts,” said Camila.

The rain finally fell on them and soon they were soaked.

“Can you stand?” Jamie asked, rising to his feet, holding Camila’s hand.

Camila nodded and stood, but when she tried to walk, she limped. Leila stood and looked around and found it.

A cabin.

“Look—there,” she pointed, taking Camila’s hand. “We can wait out the storm there.”

“We have to go back,” Jamie said. “Camila’s hurt. We don’t know how long the storm will last.”

“There may be supplies there,” she reasoned. The three of them were soaking wet now, the leaves of the trees around them rustling, harsher with each passing gush of wind.

Thunder broke through the sky and Camila and Jamie nodded. Leila started to lead the way to the cabin, but a shout came from behind, stopping them dead on their tracks. Leila turned and found Trent Durham running toward them. Behind him was Oliver, not running, but his long strides were enough to keep in pace with Jamie’s brother.

“No one speaks,” Camila hastily said under her breath. Leila was curious why the girl said it, or why her hand was suddenly tight around Leila’s.

It did not take her long to find out why. “What in the bloody hell are you three doing here!” Oliver thundered, reaching them. It was the first time Leila saw him so angry, and a chill ran up her spine when she also saw the same look of fury on Trent Durham.

“Come home at once!” Trent shouted at Jamie.

“Camila’s hurt,” Jamie told his brother.

Oliver immediately rushed to the girl. “Where?”

“Just a scratch on my knee. I fell.”

The doctor growled under his breath and lifted Camila in his arms without much effort. Trent grabbed his brother’s hand and ordered, “Get home now. Now.”

As they turned to walk away from the direction of the cabin, Oliver stopped and turned to face Leila who remained where she was, stunned by the fury from both men. “Leila, don’t make me haul you over my shoulder,” Oliver said, rain running down his serious face.

She blinked, then swallowed. And then she forced herself to move. As she walked, Jamie jumped to her side and whispered, “If they ask, we tell them we got lost. Do not tell them about our plan.”

“Why?” she asked, teeth chattering.

“You step away from each other,” Trent ordered, tearing his brother away from Leila. “No conniving. You’ll all explain everything in the manor.”

The ladies were already waiting for them by the veranda. Lady Calbridge cried and rushed toward Jamie, arms outstretched. “Oh, thank God! Are you hurt?”

“No, Mother—”

“Good! Because you have a lot of explaining to do, young man! Your mother entrusted you in my care! What would she think of me!” The woman’s voice had turned stern, shaking but graceful, too. “Camila, dear, are you fine?”

“She hurt her knee,” Oliver explained as Caroline rushed to her sister, saying, “Mother will kill me, Camila, if she finds out about this. Are you certain you are all right?”

“We found them in the woods,” Trent told his wife, eyes on his brother, as if telling Jamie he should have known better.

“Oh, good heavens!” Lady Calbridge cried out in horror before her eyes rounded at Jamie. “Get inside. And get dry!”

Everyone rushed back inside the manor. Leila hesitated, but then she felt herself being pushed forward. She looked up and found Simon St. Vincent beaming behind her. “Go on, child. Get dry. Then perhaps you could join me for an early hot meal while your two friends get scolded.”

She swallowed. “I will not be scolded?”

“Of course, you will. Once remember you, of course. So go on, rush to your room and change into dry clothes. Then come find me in the dining room. I will protect you from the scolding that will follow.”

At his word, Leila nodded and crept up the stairs to her room. Later, dry and with her hair tied in a ribbon, the door to her room opened and Jamie and Camila slipped inside.

“We have to make a plan,” Jamie conspiratorially whispered. “But we should make haste. We are expected to join them downstairs.”

“What plan?” Leila asked.

“For our story, of course,” Camila replied, limping slightly, taking Leila’s hand to pull her down on the floor. The three of them sat in a small circle. “We need to tell the same story.”

“We can tell them the truth. That we ventured into the woods.”

“They will be mad.”

She frowned at Camila. “They found us in the woods. There is no point lying.”

“They will be less mad if they know we were in the woods for a good cause,” Jamie said.

“And not going in to search for Ellise’ secret,” Leila finished.

“Precisely. Now, I already hinted about the eggs hatching,” Camila said. “We tell them we saw a fox trying to get to the eggs so we chased him away.”

Jamie nodded. “Perfect. I also told my mother we saw a fox.”

“But we have to talk about the color of the fox should they ask,” Camila said, leaning and pulling Jamie closer to Leila so their heads were almost ear to ear. “And what height.”

“I do not think they will ask for details,” Leila said.

“They might,” the pair chorused.

She sighed. “Very well.” Then she paused, frowning at the floor. She had made many plans since she became High Priestess. She had also ruined many things. But never had she ever been placed in a situation where she had to protect herself from berating adults. “I suggest we also do not say anything about the cabin we saw.”

“Why?” Jamie asked.

“Because it might be Ellise’s secret. The one we do not want them to know we know.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” He turned to Camila. “Do not mention the cabin.”

Camila nodded and smiled, satisfied. “Now, shall we agree on the color of the birds?”

---

Two days later, Ellise stood in a corner of one parlor in Humbrick, watching the parlor game with little interest. Ruby was currently blindfolded, arms outstretched, while everyone else were soundlessly laughing with excitement, jumping away from her reach as she tried to catch them.

She was the lone spectator, although someone told her earlier she was part of the game. Staying away from all the ruckus would have been much preferred if Dior was not amongst the players. He was standing in one corner, hands behind him, trying to evade the blindfolded Ruby, slowly making his way toward Sheridan Garmont.

When he finally reached the woman, he murmured something under his breath. Sheridan replied, her eyes focused on Ruby who was now making her way toward Dior.

Ellise instinctively moved and slithered toward them, slipping between Dior and Ruby mere seconds before the woman could touch him. She smiled when the Belle’s hand brushed against her shoulder, then came back to hold it. Behind her, Dior stepped away as everyone else cheered. “Now, you have to kiss your captive, my lady!” someone said, reminding Ruby of the rules of the game.

Most of the guests were amused, others tried to look away. It was not every day that they get to see a woman kiss another. To get it over with, Ellise leaned down and planted her lips at the corner of Ruby’s mouth, eliciting a gasp around the room. Then she leaned back as the other players cheered and clapped their hands.

Ruby took off her blindfold and stiffened when she saw Ellise. The woman recognized her, of course. But as all Belles were trained for, she was fast to cover her surprise with a charming smile. “I hope I did not get you in trouble with your fiancé, Miss St. Vincent,” Ruby said, flashing Dior a smile.

“He is not my husband,” Ellise replied, eliciting more cheers from the others.

“It’s your turn, Miss St. Vincent!” someone cried and Ruby raised the cloth in front of Ellise. With a smile, the woman walked around her, covered her eyes and tied the cloth behind her head. “The other Belles are watching you. Be careful,” Ruby whispered before gently guided Ellise to the middle of the room and whirled her around a few times. Then she let go and suddenly, she felt alone.

The room had gone quiet again.

“You should walk around, Miss St. Vincent,” someone said with a laugh, a few other snickered. She concentrated on one corner, rolling her eyes down, but she could not even make out her own feet. “It also helps if you raise your hand and try to catch someone!” another shouted from one corner of the room.

Ellise wanted to tell them it would be much better if she was holding a sword as she waved her arm around. Finally, she felt a presence in front of her and she stopped. She sniffed, tilting her head to the side. It was not Dior. And obviously, he was not trying to stop her from reaching for this gentleman. And so she did and before anyone could react, she tilted her chin high.

“Kiss! Kiss!” the other players shouted.

And then it happened. Whoever her captor was, kissed her.

Ellise peeled the cloth off her eyes and found herself face to face with a man she did not know. His was fairly handsome with curly brown hair, light brown eyes, and bristled jaw. He was smiling, amused by the game. “Michael Simon, Miss St. Vincent,” he introduced himself with a slight bow. Her eyes flickered to the corner of the room and found Robert standing there, face hard and filled with warning.

“I believe this is now yours,” she told Michael Simon, handing the cloth to him.

“You will not put it on me?”

“No,” she replied, stiffly turning away.

Ellise walked toward the window and leaned against the wall, ignoring Dior, knowing he was making his way toward her. Sheridan Garmont was no longer in the room. Ruby was with the other Belles, laughing excitedly as Michael Simon was being whirled around the room by another man.

Dior’s large form stepped in front of her and surreptitiously ran his hand around her waist as he murmured, “Why did you do that?”

“Why were you talking with Garmont?” she asked, looking over his shoulder to watch the game.

“The prince asked for a favor.” He looked behind him and stepped to the side to completely block her sight. For everyone else, they may appear to be talking, which was true, but his hand was also traveling up to the side of her breast, across it, then back again. “Why did you do it?”

“You mean kiss Ruby?” she asked. “Why did you not move? You saw her coming your way.”

“Are you jealous?”

She frowned, considering her answer. “Yes.”

His finger traced her arm. “Of her or of me?”

“Why would you think I’m jealous of you?”

“You seem to like her.”

“I’m jealous of her,” she said.

He scoffed softly, shaking his head. “I never had interest in her like you do.”

She frowned. “Are you jealous of her?”

He shrugged as a small smile tugged at his lips. He bent down and whispered in her ear. “I also do not like Michael Simon.”

“He has a rather charming smile.”

His eyes darkened at her words, but the back of his fingers caressed the side of her breast, soft and careful, deliberate. “I believe we are done here.”

“You mean you wish to leave Humbrick?”

He stepped closer. “No. I want to take you upstairs.”

Her skin tingled and her heart raced, his touch spreading a bristling wave to her midriff and downward.

She turned her head and brushed her lips against his jaw. He turned, chased her lips for the barest of kiss. Her hand blindly found his and led him out of the parlor. Outside in the corridor, he pulled, holding her back.

His gaze was grave, giving her a hint of what it felt like to dip her toes into dangerous waters. “Don’t kiss anyone again.”

Ellise scoffed. “It was a game.”

He did not look amused. “Even for a game.”

“Is this an order?”

“I only keep one lover, and I hate sharing.”

“Is this a common rule?”

“Most often, yes.” At her lack of response, he let go of her hand. Making sure no one else was around, he added, “If you wish to exercise more liberties, then I would have to take a pass.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. She hated yielding, but she was not also a stupid player. No game was fun without a worthwhile opponent, which, in her case, was him. “I shall not be intimate with anyone in the duration of our affair.”

He grabbed her hand and led her away. “Good.”

“Am I getting my reward?” she asked later when they entered his bedchamber.

He pulled at his white cravat, standing before her. His gaze held hers, his face bare as always with just the smallest hint of amusement in the corner of his mouth. Without a word, he wrapped the cravat around her eyes.

“Not funny, Dior,” she warned as he moved to stand behind her, securing the cravat with a knot, then another; but she did not stop him because then she felt him standing too close, his smell more distinct around her.

“Which one did you like? Ruby’s or Simon’s?” his voice asked in her ear.

“None.”

“I wonder if I should believe you.”

She gritted her teeth. “Are you saying you do not trust my judgement?”

His breath was suddenly in her ear and she felt the warm spread in her chest. She tried to reach for him, but he was not there. Her jaw tightened. She took one step forward then froze as the lace of her wrap was tugged, coming loose. With a swift motion, she whirled. Again, he was not there. She kicked the space before, thinking he might have docked.

His chuckle came a few paces away.

She paused, hands on her hips. She could take off the cravat and end the game, but then she would lose. Making up her mind, Ellise lifted her arms and searched.

For the bed.

“Where are you going?” his voice asked as she climbed on top.

The corner of her mouth curled into a smug smile as she knelt, facing the foot of the bed. “I will make you come to me.” Shrugging her wrap off her shoulders, she easily discarded it to the side.

“That’s cheating.” His voice was far from disappointed, coming closer with his footsteps.

She remained silent, reaching behind her to loosen her stays, her heart hammering against her chest, her body too aware it was being watched. The stays landed on the mattress beside her knee. Then her shift followed. She bit back her smile when she heard him undress. “I can hear your defeat,” she said.

He did not reply. In fact, the room was too quiet that for a moment she feared he left. She freed her hair, letting it fall over her shoulders, and fell back on the mattress to discard her shift, pulling it over her head. And when her hand lifted to take off the cravat, he was suddenly above her, bare as she was, hands around her wrist, pinning them above her head. “Don’t,” he murmured on the pulse of her neck. “You can’t take it off.”

“I won.”

“You cheated,” he said, mouth gliding across her jaw, hand between her thighs. He groaned and cursed under his breath, telling her she was ready. But louder, he asked, “How do you like your prize?”

She tried to free her hands, but he tightened his hold. “Bad,” she said, blindly searching his mouth.

He shook with laughter above her, and she also tasted his mirth in his lips as they closed over hers. The kiss was crass, clumsy, open-mouth, sharing one breath as he slid into her, slowly, as if he meant to test if she was ready for the torment.

“Is this all right?” he asked, breaths coming in short gasps, one hand gripping her hips as he moved in a lazy pace.

A strangled moan rumbled up her throat. “Are you bloody blind ?” she asked.

And he laughed, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

Ellise smiled, very aware that had never—and perhaps would never—witness this man laugh. But her smile melted when he changed his pace, and in no time, they were both racing against heartbeats. She managed to tug free from his hold, her hands finding new curves as she drowned in darkness, just feeling… hearing.

Her explosion was both in her ears and behind her eyes, a flash of light beneath her closed lids and his cravat. His followed with a long, low growl in her neck. But he did not stop because he was still as ready as he was moments ago.

He slowed down, hands running down her sides, soothing her calming nerves. But she knew he was building another fire when he pulled the cravat from around her eyes.

His handsome sharp edges smiled down at her. “I may never want to let you go,” he said, smiling at her as if he was holding a secret, and it was one that made her want to be reckless. He slid deeper into her and she jerked, sensing another fire crawling back to life. “Will that be all right?” he asked, tying the cravat around her wrists, looking into her eyes. He looked uncertain then, so far from the man who could render anyone stupid in any setting.

She was uncertain how she should answer his question, so she asked, “Have you done this with the others?” she asked.

“Once.”

“And?”

“She never came back,” he said with a smile, biting her lip as his hands tied her to the post above her head.

“And do you smile at them like you do now?” she asked.

He paused. “I’m not certain.”

“I do not think I like the thought of you smiling at other women.”

“Your answer?” he asked instead. “Will it be all right?” He tugged at her lower lip. “If I do not let you go?”

He was still above her, inside her. For a moment, she forgot where they were a moment ago, or where they were headed to. She moved her gaze down to his mouth, lower to where they were joined, then back up to his dark globes, seeing her own reflection there.

“If you can make it worthwhile,” she finally replied.

His face gentled as he bent to kiss her lips, his hands relearning her planes and curves.

That day, as his mouth traveled lower, Ellise discovered that all the women who left Robert Dior for another lover were stupid fools.

---

The moon spilled a rectangular light on the lower half of the bed inside the cabin, the sound of waves against the hull of the ship now a familiar constant. Sitting with her in bed, their backs against the headboard, West played with Sasha’s hands on his lap, right where the spot of moonlight touched them.

“Reginald told me how your father helped him escape,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “You ought to have seen his face when he told me how he had to travel through the underground tunnel.”

West smiled, then scoffed. Interlacing their fingers, he kissed the back of her hand. “He was green the entire way, Father said. He was a king, after all, and he had to wade through the filth of his own people to save his own life.”

“I am beginning to appreciate Leo more than the father.”

“No one said you have to like either. Or both.”

A long silence reigned between them. “Rider is certain there are only two Soldiers on the ship,” West said, leaning away so he could look at her. “Should we capture them now?”

She smiled. “Why are you asking me?”

He frowned in confusion. “Because I want your opinion.”

“I’m no longer Darcy.”

“Yes, but you still—”

“I’m your wife and the mother of your unborn heir. I have no other responsibilities.”

He chuckled. “You are jesting.”

She kissed his jaw. “If we catch them now, they will have more time to think of a way to escape.”

West grinned and shifted so she was almost covered by him. “And that is why I ask, darling,” he murmured against her mouth.

Later, as her husband slept, Sasha walked out of the cabin wrapped in a thick scarf. She walked along the narrow corridor and into another room which remained unlocked for her.

Inside, the woman with red, curly hair faced her.

“I’m glad my note reached you,” she said to Gabrielle.

---

Arielle looked up as an Elected walked into the room followed by Jade who was clad in a blood-red cloak. “My Lady,” the Mistress of the Court of Flowers greeted with a deep curtsy. “I have urgent news.”

She stood from the chair Albert once owned. The room underneath the garden was now free of Leila’s doll house and other toys. The bed was now white, the canopy sheer purple. The closet was now filled with her gowns and cloaks. “What is it?” she asked Jade.

“Tanner Macmier sent a note.” Jade’s heart-shaped face hardened as she added, “Esther was abducted from Humbrick. Everyone is searching for her as we speak. Macmier suspects the Circus.” A small pause, then she added, “Robert Dior was in Humbrick.”

“And Leila?”

“She is still in Herst.”

She scoffed. “They trapped her there,” she thoughtfully said.

“We can’t let her suspect anything. If she learns that she cannot go back here, she might retaliate.”

“Are you suggesting we should rescue her?”

“Or at least let her think we are attempting to.”

Arielle shook her head. “Leila is too proud. She would not easily fold. Our problem is not her. The Circus is finally making a move.”

“What do you want us to do?”

“Bring Tanner here at once.”

Jade nodded, then reluctantly asked, “Do you think this is part of Esther’s plan? Is she working with the Circus?”

“Let us hope Tanner has the answers,” Arielle sighed. “One thing is for certain. The king will no longer be at the Kinsley Ball.” She turned to the Elected standing at the door. “Call the Maidens.” She faced the Mistress again. “You and the other Mistresses will hear more orders soon. And Jade,” she added, stopping the woman’s departure, “I am proud of your work.”

Jade smiled, eyes glistening. “I will try harder, my lady.”

---

The night in Winfield was calm. The storm had passed, both outside and indoors. The adults ushered the children to their bedchambers and soon after retired to their rooms.

But past midnight, Leila slipped out of bed and found her coat. Alone, she walked out of her room, down the staircase, and out into the veranda.

The cold breeze greeted her. The ocean moved like dark cloth against soft wind, the moon the only light in the sky. And although the storm had long died down, the stars still hid behind the clouds that had come back to shadow the night.

She made her way to the woods, in naught but her walking shoes and coat.

Soon, she was standing behind a giant alder, staring at the cottage. She did not have to see anyone outside to know that it was occupied. The soft yellow candlelight was visible through the window.

Royals , she thought.

---

The journey was long and exhausting. The carriage only stopped twice to change horses. Esther fell in and out of sleep with her eyes blindfolded, her hands bound in front of her. She knew now that there were three men traveling with her.

Of course, she tried to bribe them. She shouted profanities, cursed them, promised to bring them hell once she escaped. It did not get her anywhere. They ignored her, only speaking to her when they handed her food which she had to blindly eat with her hands. They did not even dare touch her.

What did Robert Dior promise Emory?

How long had they been planning this?

Is Tanner Macmier a part of this?

Of course they are, the bloody bastards!

By the second day—or was it the third? No matter, after what seemed like a long journey through hell, the carriage finally drew to a stop. She knew they had reached their destination. They were not stopping to change horses. The absent sounds of villagers or other carriages, or the fact that her companions did not gag her mouth to keep her from shouting for help, was enough proof of that.

“Move,” ordered one of them, pulling her from her seat. When she was too stiff to do it, she was hoisted out of the carriage by force, her petite form making it easy. The man deposited her on her feet and she was guided up a short flight of stairs.

Esther was done struggling at this point. She just wanted a bed. And perhaps, within a day or two, her father would find her. Or her mother would. Yes, the queen would search for her.

Like Albert, Emory would not succeed, she promised.

The smell of pine and hard wood greeted her. The soles of her silk slippers made a squeaking sound. Polished floors . Even the doors opened without a sound as they guided her into another room.

And finally, something soft. Cushioned seat. Carpeted floor.

At the very least, her prison was not filthy.

The guards retreated away from her from where they left her in the chair. Then the door swung open again and footsteps echoed around the room. She remained still, blind, tired—furious.

She could not see, but she felt the presence before her, a palpable shadow. Finally, the cloth around her eyes was peeled away.

Esther let out a soft, shaky breath before she lifted her lids, grateful for the lack of sunlight. Then she realized it was nighttime and the room was lit yellow from the candles and the fire nearby.

And someone was standing before her. The presence—the shadow.

She looked up and found dark eyes staring at her with amusement and interest. He was tall, his shoulders not as broad as the men who took her, but they were enough to block the door behind him. He turned his head to the side to dismiss the guards and Esther discovered that his dark hair was long, tied haphazardly in a bun at the back of his head. When he looked back down at her, his smile widened, stretching his bristled jaw.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” the man greeted, voice low and teasing as he offered a mocking bow.

“Who are you?” she demanded through gritted teeth.

Finally, his lips broke and flashed a big smile. “Ivan Miller, Marquess of Rothsker. But everyone calls me Rothsker nowadays.”

XIV | Pieces

“The king has a request,” Sasha told Gabrielle, smiling gently at the woman.

Gabrielle wore a dark cloak, her red hair tied at her nape. Sasha had always found her beautiful. With her pale green eyes and freckles, she could make one think they were facing an angel. But they both knew that was a lie. Gabrielle could kill Sasha now if she wanted to, but Gabrielle would never stray from the orders given to her. She was not ordered here to kill Sasha or anyone.

One thing Sasha learned about Arielle was that the woman was mad. She would want to witness the killing herself.

The Soldier stared at Sasha, eyes bare of emotion. “Which king?”

“Reginald.”

“He is not a king.”

“He will be—again. And he has a request.” Sasha took one step closer, knowing her husband would kill her if he learned she had been in the same room as a Soldier. “He wants you to work for him.”

“I work for no one but Belcourt.”

“I told him the same, but he is insistent. Do you wish to die in this ship, Gabrielle? You are outnumbered.”

Gabrielle scoffed, a knowing smile on her lips. “You do not know that.”

“I know,” Sasha said with the same knowing smile. “We have been watching you for weeks. Our dear fried Rider Fairborne is eager to get his hands on you and we both know he is not the most charming.”

A hint of fury glinted in Gabrielle’s eyes before she blinked it away. “Then tell him to come to me. He’s very much welcome to try.”

Sasha shook her head. “The king wants to meet you.”

Gabrielle remained quiet, the corner of her mouth curling in a snarl. “They have poisoned your mind, Sasha. Do you also hope they will achieve the same thing to me?”

She shrugged. “You can do whatever you wish after your talk with him. He has quite an interesting story to tell you.”

“Is this about my brother? How you poisoned his mind?”

Sasha nodded, eyes never leaving Gabrielle’s. “That and more, Gabrielle.” She looked around the small cabin. “Be here tomorrow. The king will come alone, I promise.”

“I cannot trust you.”

“You should not. I can even say my husband should not trust me as much. He does not know I’m doing this.”

“And you expect me to believe that? Everything you did was because of him. You betrayed us because of a man.”

With a shake of her head, Sasha decided it was not important what Gabrielle believed. What mattered was what she would believe before they reached Sutherland. “Tomorrow, same time, Gabrielle. We’ll understand if you do not show up.”

---

The Marquess of Rothsker. Esther scoffed. She had heard stories about the man—why he disappeared. There were too many that circulated the palace, none of them seemed plausible.

Had she ever met this man? No, she had not. She met Lady Renee, of course, the aunt.

“You share the same name with my aunt, do you know that?” Rothsker asked.

She did not reply. What did this man want from her? Was he part of the Circus? How did Emory meet him? When did her bloody brother start working with the Royal Circus?

He turned to her with a charming smile, one that would have surely made some women swoon. But not her. She was a princess, and she had seen too many men pulling this trick.

“I will be your company on this vacation,” he said, motioning around the room. “Well, I am on vacation. I’m not so certain about you.”

“I’m a prisoner.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” He shrugged. “But I am willing to share this humble manor. We have enough room.” He tilted his head to the right. “Or would you rather share one with me?”

“You’re a Royal.”

His smile morphed into something different. Dangerous. Familiar. What was it? “In all sense, yes.”

Her lips trembled as she forced a smile, hating that she was in a position with no power. “What do you intend to do to me?”

Again, he shrugged. “I’m not quite certain myself. The Royal Master only tells me what they want me to do. As of now, it is to keep you company.” He eyed her for a few seconds before adding, “But I am certain you are here so the Circus can go on with their plans.”

She let out a snort, then chuckled. “Am I that big of a threat to them?”

He laughed as well, but it was closer to mocking than mirth. “Oh, no, princess,” he said, laughter dying in faint chuckles. “The Royal Master simply does not like unnecessary pawns.”

She scowled, gritting her teeth.

“You are the piece on the board that gets in the way,” he said, charming smile completely gone, then shook his head in pity. “You are not a threat, princess. You are the uncomfortable splinter between their toes.”

Her nose flared, and she shot to her feet, ready to… to do what? This man could overpower her in a split second. And it was obvious he was not one she could seduce. She had tried that with Macmier and it landed her here.

“You stay here until we decide to return you to your palace.” There was a finality in his voice and she sensed he would leave any moment.

“We have the same enemy. We can help each other. I can help you,” she said, stopping him from turning away. “You cannot trust Emory. He is not capable, and he is—”

“We have enough help, princess.” Rothsker took a step closer, hands deep in the pockets of his trousers. “I suggest you do not fight this. Stay here like a good discarded piece and wait for another round of the game.”

He broke into a bigger smile when she just glared at him.

His dark blue eyes roamed over her face, amusement pasted there as if he knew what she was thinking. “Know that I will only tolerate three attempts of escape. Do not make it a habit while under my watch. Good night, princess.”

---

Ellise walked into the theater through the back door to find just half of the Royals in the room. Dior was in his usual seat, sitting quietly. Absent were her father, Oliver, Dior’s father, and the others who were in Herst and those in other parts of Sutherland.

She was left with only two clusters in Coulway. Also present in the room was the Duke of Remington, Caroline’s father, and the Duke of Whitton, Trent’s father. Remington had to stay because of his close ties to the king and the House of Lords. He was their spy from within the king’s circle. Whitton, on the other hand, was powerful within the House of Commons.

“Opera is open,” she announced, standing in front of Blackwood’s old desk. “The princess is now with Rothsker in a manor in Calbridge. She will stay there until the duration of this mission.”

“The king is angry, understandably so,” Remington informed them. “The Royal Watchers are on full alert and are dispersed all throughout Sutherland. We have to be careful.”

“The crown prince will deal with the king,” Dior spoke.

“It’s not the king that’s mobilizing the search,” Remington explained. “It’s the queen.”

She smiled. “Of course, it’s the queen. As expected from a mother. I want eyes on her,” Ellise said. “Do we have enough men in Coulway?”

“No, but we have a few in Dockerly. We can pull them out of there,” Lord Winthrop suggested.

“No. The Duchess of Eaton wants them to stay in Dockerly. Now that someone else may be running Belcourt, we have stronger reasons to keep them there.”

“Dior’s new neighbor is on her way to Herst,” another Royal said. “She is with a Soldier.”

“She’s planning to rescue Leila,” she said, shaking her head. “There are too many children playing this game.”

“What do you want us to do?”

“Let her get to Leila.”

“I disagree. I suggest we confine her as well.”

“That will only make Belcourt send more Soldiers. Let the children play in Herst. We have enough men there to supervise.”

“Shaw sent a note. The Leila has been visiting the cabin in Winfield,” Dior said.

Ellise nodded. “Good. Tell him to go on with the friendly plan .” The men looked uncomfortable with her orders and she could not blame them. All she could do now was explain her actions. “We are uncertain if Belcourt has indeed tried to kill Leila, or if this is part of their plan. We should not care about that. Whatever their goal is, the important thing is that they have less communication. And it gives us room to plant doubt. If Leila is a victim as she claims, we want her to be desperate enough to come back. If she is working with Belcourt, we want her to feel threatened enough to storm back into Belcourt and reclaim her throne. But we control when she comes inside.”

“This is a child we are talking about, Darcy,” Remington said, voice serious. “Are we truly doing this?”

“Ask Belcourt the same question once we are face to face with them, Your Grace,” she said. “Why did they send out their children?” She looked around the room. “I know this is a difficult mission for most of you, but I hope you all see why we have to do this. There are other children inside Belcourt that could be used, gentlemen. Leila and this other girl heading toward Herst are not the last, nor the first. Sasha, my sister-in-law, and many others before them had to suffer the same thing.”

She stepped forward, hands falling to her side. Her eyes landed on Whitton, then Remington. “I hope Esther’s disappearance has provided you enough time to gather more supporters against the prime minister. But do not assassinate the man. It will only give us frightened allies instead of friends. Does anyone have any more questions?”

When no one said a word, she sighed with a bored look on her face. “Good luck, gentlemen. Opera is over.”

---

Ruby stared at the parcel wrapped in brown paper in front of her, her heart beating fast at the thought of where she was taking it.

For a moment, she wondered if she was doing the right thing, doubting herself again.

Sheridan looked at her from behind her table with a knowing smile. “Are you nervous?”

Ruby swallowed and scoffed, then tugged the corners of her mouth into her classic, charming smile. “Of course, not. Why would I be?”

The woman nodded, leaning back, elbows resting on the arms of her chair, hands folded in front of her. “Humbrick was fun, wasn’t it?”

“I would say I had better Humbrick days,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It is not as much fun with fewer friends.”

“You mean your friend Jade, who is now the mistress of your court.” Ruby refused to answer. “Did you enjoy Ellise St. Vincent’s kiss?” Sheridan asked, voice taunting.

“It was nothing, Sherry. I have been kissed by women before,” she easily lied.

“The things Belles suffer?”

“No, the things Belles can indulge in.” Another lie. It was against Belcourt law. No woman was made for another.

Sheridan laughed. “Then you like Ellise St. Vincent.”

This time, she answered truthfully. “No. The woman frightens me.”

Sheridan shrugged. “Liar. I know you fear nothing. Otherwise, you would not be doing this.”

She did not reply. Instead, she looked around the office, eyes stopping on a portrait. “Is that your uncle?”

“Yes,” Sheridan replied, eyes still on her. “The one your dear Soldiers shot to his death. Do you know that his passion was writing? That’s one reason I acquired the Sutherland Post. In his honor. He provided me everything when I had nothing. He was the only one I had.”

The smile wavered on her lips, and she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for your loss. I hope that someday you can get the justice you seek for.”

“Oh, dear, I ’m not looking for justice.” Sheridan shook her head as she spoke. “I know my uncle knew the risks when he joined the Circus.” Smile growing gentle, she added, “I believe what he stood for and that’s what I’m seeking as well.”

Ruby nodded, wondering how much of Sheridan’s words were also true. How many lies was the woman also hiding? “He used to write for the Sutherland Post. It was him who wrote on Reginald’s efforts to free the women in Belcourt. I read old copies of the paper.”

“And you believe them? For all you know, they were written to manipulate. That’s one power printed words can bring,” Sheridan said, looking at the parcel on the table.

“I also read transcripts from both Houses, how the former monarch tried to pass the law to exercise more power over Belcourt.” She reached for the parcel and stood. “I’m more than capable, Sherry. I know where to find my facts.”

“I never said you’re not capable, Ruby.”

She turned, then stopped when Sheridan spoke again. “I wonder what the Circus had against you before. You were forced to work with Robert Dior.”

“You can always ask him.”

“Dior does not tell me everything.”

Ruby smiled bitterly, reminded of her old flower, Daniel Willoghby, and the secrets he uncovered. “Are you curious about me, Sherry?” she asked, turning halfway to shoot the woman a teasing smile. “Like how curious you were when Ellise St. Vincent kissed me?”

Sheridan laughed, eyes on hers. “Do not tempt me, Ruby. I easily give in to temptation.”

Ruby shook her head, turned, and walked to the door with a smile. “Good day, Sherry.”

---

“That’s a good smile,” Dior said from across the room where he held a fireplace poker in naught but his breeches, his chest naked, the fine hairs glistening with sweat. His hair was tousled, far from its classic well-arranged upsweep.

She set aside the note he delivered earlier, the smile still on her lips. “We are set for Dockerly.”

He poked the fire for a moment, not saying a word, before he crawled back into bed.

“We will travel to Calbridge to see if Rothsker is still alive. Then we shall move on to Dockerly to visit a friend.”

“I can go alone,” Dior said, eyes serious. “You do not have to leave Coulway.”

“There is nothing to do here,” she said. “And do you think our friend in Dockerly will speak with you? She is a retired Mistress. Should she desire a talk, it will have to be with a woman.”

He glanced at the open note on the table. “Are you certain we have the right information?”

“Her name was on that ship ten years ago, and it was also there amongst the list of those who perished.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “Yet she is alive.”

He gathered her hand in his, squeezed. “I do not feel confident about this plan, Elle. She will have Soldiers surrounding her estate.”

“Are you afraid to fight with a few Soldiers?”

“No, but I would be much more comfortable if we bring more men.”

“You can stay here if you wish.”

“And let you go alone?”

“Are you stopping me?”

He sighed. “No.”

She slid down the mattress and lay on her side, facing him.

Dior slipped under the covers, wrapping an arm around her naked body and pulled her closer. “What are you thinking about now?”

She pressed closer. “Sometimes I think I am evil.”

“That’s why you are Darcy,” he murmured against her forehead. “You are capable of difficult decisions.”

Now that things were in motion, now that the waiting was over, she had more tough decisions to make.

“Stop thinking,” he whispered, running his hand over her hips and waist, as if taking measure. “Rest.”

“Are you fretful?”

“That we might be wrong? Yes. That Sasha could be wrong? Yes.” He leaned back to look down at her, chin touching chest. “But I also worry that I may pick the wrong colors for anything. Or that I may have not locked the door and someone could come in and discover us naked. I also think about our mothers killing each other by now.” She scoffed, and he pressed his smile against the corner of her mouth. “It is all right to worry, Elle.”

“I do not like the feeling.”

“The first step to becoming human.”

“You are not so human yourself,” she chuckled. “No man has your virility.”

“Do not patronize me. I may just prove you right.” He tightened his hold around her. “Sleep.” And in her ear, he added, “I’ll wake you in a while.”

“How?” she asked, smiling in his chest.

His hand traveled to the small of her back, pulling her against his groin. “You will know,” he whispered in her ear. “Sleep, Darcy. Monday is in a few hours.”

Ellise closed her eyes, wrapping an arm around his waist. The worry was still there, but so was her desire to see this through. If Sasha’s theory was right, then they had a much better chance against Belcourt. And she so wanted to win.

XV | The Rulers

Dearest Reader,

I came to Belcourt after my father killed my mother, and then himself. I went through what you went through and experienced the joy of being loved. Of family.

My Courting Ceremony went as I expected. I was courted into the Court of my dreams.

I became a Librarian. A researcher.

But one day they whisked me into the Court of Flowers. I did not understand it then. I feared going back outside Belcourt, back into the world I escaped from. Yet I had to because Belcourt said so. And Belcourt is law.

And then I met him. The man who would change my life. The man who ruined me; made me betray the very home I held so dear. The man who loved me. Loves me.

This is my story. But this is also yours.

I will tell you about my journey. I will tell you why I did the things I did. Why I’m fighting for all of you from outside. Why I’m bringing back the rightful king of Sutherland.

I will give you reasons to question, because you have every right to ask.

Are you truly alone? Do you truly have no one outside?

Is no one looking for you?

What if someone wants you?

I will not have the answers, my dear Ladies of Belcourt, but I will tell you the truth.

I will tell you about the Vandenbergs, the true rulers of Belcourt. The people behind the walls that keep you away from the rest.

And I hope that by the end of these letters, you will learn, as I did, why Belcourt lies.

-The Fainting Belle

Arielle fed the paper to the fire and watched its form turn to ash.

Behind her stood the other Maidens, all of them wrapped in their purple cloaks.

“Someone is helping Sasha start a revolution,” she said, face trembling with contained rage. “Her previous Servants?”

“No suspicious activity, Your Highness. Their current Belle claims they have been nowhere near Belcourt, nor have they traveled out of Dockerly where the Belle is currently posted.”

Arielle’s lips pursed. “Then have them shadowed. Inform their Belle that her mission is to spy on her own Servants.”

“At once, Your Highness,” said Asa.

“Save for the Librarians and the orphans, almost everyone has access outside Belcourt. I want them investigated.”

“Right away, Your Highness,” said one Maiden. “I also have another news. Venus has gone to Herst.”

“Stupid girl,” Arielle murmured under her breath. “How many Soldiers do we have in Herst?”

“A dozen.”

“Royals?”

“We cannot say for certain, Your Highness.”

“Then send more Soldiers. And make sure Venus does nothing stupid.” She turned around and faced the fire again. “I want all copies of this article gathered. Everyone caught with a copy shall be sent straight to the dungeon and interrogated.”

---

Leila had trouble going back to the cabin for multiple reasons. One, because of the recent trouble with Camila and Jamie, the servants were on constant alert whenever the children walked through any door of the manor. Two, Mason seemed to have grown attached to her for some odd reason, and the child would not leave her alone. Three, Camila and Jamie decided they were now friends with her , thus they should spend more time together.

But one night, after a long day out in the nearest village, everyone was tired. Even Camila fell asleep in her room before she could drag herself into Leila’s bed to sleep with her.

She slipped out of the manor without a sound. The night breeze was chilly but tolerable now that the storm had passed. The forest was dark, with only the moonlight to guide her.

But she knew the trail now, and the journey to the cabin was uneventful.

She stayed behind the tree, staring. Waiting.

She wondered if she could come around and peek inside, see the men hiding there. The candlelight told her someone was awake.

And apparently, someone was also outside, watching, because from behind her, a man’s voice spoke, “What are you doing here, child?”

---

Robert Dior sat in his chair with great ease, as if he was not responsible for her abduction. His hands were clasped before him, watching her pace around the room.

She was no longer bound, but she was still a prisoner. They provided her with good food, a bath whenever she desired it, and books when she demanded it. The bedchamber was large, but the doors remained locked.

“Do you truly think that I will forgive you for doing this?” Esther finally spoke.

“No, of course not, Your Highness,” he said with a smile, his dark eyes following her as she approached. “But I know you will eventually concede.”

“Concede to what?”

“Our plans.”

“And what is that? Kicking my father out of his throne?”

“No, of course not. Dethroning your sister.”

She stiffened. “Arielle?”

“Do you have another bastard sister somewhere?”

“Dethrone her?”

“We believe she is currently ruling Belcourt. Taking you here is keeping you safe.”

“No, taking me here is tying my father’s hands!” she hissed. “I know Emory had a hand on this, that bloody fool!”

“Your brother is a wise man.”

“He will end Sutherland. He knows nothing!”

“Is that so?”

“I am the one who saved us all from Albert and his stupid plans. Emory was ignorant. He had always been. You sided with the wrong man.”

He nodded slowly, but she could tell he was not taking her seriously.

“Once my mother gets her hands on you, Robert Dior, you and your family will lose everything—”

“Your mother,” he said, tilting his head to the side, “told you everything, did she not? She told you everything about Albert.”

Esther scoffed, stepping back with a sneer. “You do not know what the queen is capable of.”

Dior smiled, one that dragged at her own, melting it into uncertainty, telling Esther she was not facing an ignorant fool. “I know enough to say that it is the queen we should all be wary of, Your Highness. And Prince Emory is very much aware of that as well. That is why you are here.”

Her nostrils flared, her hands balled, refusing to discuss her mother. These people knew about the queen. This is bad , she thought. Then she swallowed the panic. Does Emory know?

“Now, if you do exactly what your brother wants, you might enjoy this… heavenly prison.”

“And what does Emory want?”

“That you behave, of course. While we try to deal with Belcourt. Can you do that?”

---

Robert entered the drawing room and found Leo laughing while Ellise frowned at him with bafflement.

“Good Lord, do you not see what I mean?” Leo asked Ellise.

“I do,” she replied.

“Then why do you look baffled?” Leo asked, laughter bubbling through his lips. “It is quite funny.”

“I do not find it funny at all, Leo,” she replied, leaning against her seat.

Robert walked closer and was about to take a seat beside Ellise when Leo suddenly jumped and stole it from him, twisting in the chaise to face Ellise, who leaned back to frown at the prince. “There was a man, yes?”

“You already told me the story twice,” she said. “Why are you repeating yourself?”

“Because you do not get the humor behind it!” He turned to Robert, who took the seat by the fire. “Perhaps Dior will appreciate—”

“Is this the story of the blind man who found you foxed on the side of the road in the Americas?” Robert asked, brows arched.

“Yes!” Leo replied, chuckling, blue eyes glimmering with mirth.

Robert nodded. “We are leaving first thing on the morrow,” he said instead, completely brushing off the irrelevant subject. “The princess seems well. However, she is not willing to cooperate. She vows to make your life hell while she is here as your prisoner.”

Leo looked at him, then at Ellise, face crumpling with incredulity. “You mean your prisoner, considering this is your family’s estate.” When none replied, he sighed. “Did you even try to charm her?” he asked.

“She is not the type who can be charmed,” Robert said.

“She is the type who needs a dagger against her throat,” Ellise added.

Leo blinked at them. “If you will allow me, I can very well make her do whatever we want,” he said with confidence, spreading his arms on the back of the chaise, causing Ellise to stand and announce, “I wish to rest.”

“Will you join us for dinner?”

“No, but I would like one,” she replied, walking out of the drawing room without a backward glance, the tail of her bound hair swaying in the air.

Leo frowned. “She wants her food delivered to her chamber,” Robert explained.

“She does not like anyone, does she?”

“No. On the contrary, she can like anyone.” Robert smiled. “The difference is that it’s not just anyone.”

“Even Sasha liked me,” Leo said with a shake of his head.

“Sasha tolerated you.”

“You dare cross the future king of Sutherland?”

Robert sighed and stood. “I would also like to enjoy a glass of brandy with you, Your Highness.”

When he returned with a glass for each of them, Leo’s face had turned serious. “Taking the princess may only make things difficult for the Circus, Dior,” he said.

“That is why we are traveling straight to Dockerly. It is about time.”

Leo sipped from his glass. “Once my father gets here, he would want to rule the Circus. Are you prepared for that?”

“If that is what he wishes.”

“He might be senile,” Leo said. “You must agree that he is too old for this.”

“Even death cannot stop the greedy, Your Highness. Even your father.”

Leo scoffed. “It’s what keeps him alive, to be honest. He may even outlive me if he thinks I’m a threat to his throne.”

“I’m certain he will want no other heir.” When Leo did not reply, simply swirled his drink in his hand. Robert frowned, realizing something. “You do not want it.”

“This is a rather excellent brandy. I like it,” Leo replied with a quick smile.

Later, after spending dinner with the man, Dior slipped inside Ellise’s bedchamber and found her reading, her finished meal sitting on the table in front of her.

He stripped off his coat, deep in thought.

She closed her book and placed it on the table. “What is it?”

“Leo,” he said, unbuttoning his dress shirt. “He does not wish to be king.”

Ellise shrugged. “More reason for Reginald to stay alive.”

“You are not bothered?”

“I should, but I am not at the moment,” she said. “We have other priorities.”

“But once we are done, once we ensure Napoleon doesn’t step unto Sutherland soil, and once Belcourt is free, it will matter who sits in the throne.”

“Otherwise we will all die?”

“Yes. All Royals will die.”

“That is why we have secured the allegiance of the crown prince, Dior. Should we fail to put Reginald in power, we have someone in the kingdom to save our pathetic lives.”

He approached her with a smile. “Pathetic?”

“We all are. All humans are. Would you not agree?”

He kissed her before taking the seat next to her. “Then who would you consider not pathetic?”

“Everything else not human.”

“For someone who hates humans, you surely do well enough to save them.”

“Because children are not yet humans,” she replied.

Robert smiled and reached for her hand. “Are you done with your meal?”

She nodded.

Without a word, he stood and led her to the bed.

---

Fatima’s dirty blond hair was moist with sweat, sticking to her wide forehead. Her brows fused, her eyes flickering to all corners of the Tea House. “There are three Servants currently in the dungeon being interrogated,” she said under her breath before she tried to nonchalantly sip from her cup. “Carrie is one of them,” she added, voice choking.

Ruby reached out and squeezed her hand. “We have foreseen this, Fatima.”

“Yes, I know. Carrie is a strong woman. I know she wanted this. But I still worry.”

Ruby could not offer more comfort, not when they were inside Belcourt. She would understand if Fatima and the others would stop working with her, but the lady’s next words astounded her. “When is the next article coming? I have thought of a better way to spread it. We’ll insert them in the cloaks—in the laundry room, before we deliver them to their respective Courts.”

Ruby smiled, her chest swelling. She had good allies. She simply hoped she could protect them when trouble befall them.

Much later, Ruby was back in the Flower Garden, laughing with Summer as the woman told her about her new flower, how the man almost fainted when he met her.

“He was shaking. Profusely sweating, too, I might add,” Summer was saying as Jade entered the room, clad in a beautiful blue dress. The pin on her left breast with a rose carved into it glinted as she walked.

“Ruby, if you please,” she said, giving the entire drawing room a sweeping smile before she left.

Ruby winked at Summer, her smile disappearing as she stepped out into the corridor, where Jade was already waiting. Her old friend hooked an arm around her and said, “Walk with me to the garden.”

The sun was friendly that afternoon, a bit too hot for Ruby’s preference, but Jade, whatever she felt about the sun, was not saying anything.

She remembered the many days when there was just her and Jade, them together in Coulway, two new Belles excited to navigate a new world they had not been a part of for most of their lives, all the while happy to serve Belcourt in the way they knew how. They enjoyed many moments together and with other Belles, but in most of them, Ruby always found herself tired. Perhaps maybe she had always been pretending.

That she was happy.

That life was beautiful as a Belle.

That she was free.

“How is Aaron these days?” Jade asked, arm still hooked around Ruby’s.

Ruby looked down at the red-haired woman stitched to her side. She knew what Jade had done, what the woman was capable of. She betrayed Belcourt, yet she was still here—a Mistress. And like many of them, Jade was once more being manipulated.

“He is perfectly fine, as always,” she said with a chuckle. “I accompanied him yesterday on a trip down the countryside. His father has been urging him to find a wife.”

“Ah, poor Aaron. But we told him many times he will eventually have to find one. It is about time. They need heirs.”

Ruby nodded. “He does not wish to end our friendship even after his marriage.”

“Of course. You are his best friend, after all.”

They fell silent again, their footsteps slow, the sun growing a little more uncomfortable. Then, Jade finally told her why they were pretending to be two happy friends taking a walk around the lush garden. “The High Priestess wants to find the person behind the articles in the Sutherland Post.”

Ruby frowned. “The one who writes about Belcourt?”

“Yes.” Jade stopped and unhooked her arm from Ruby’s, took a step back, the smile on her face now gone. “They believe the person behind it is also responsible for the papers that circulated around Belcourt.”

Ruby’s jaw tightened. “You mean the articles that claim to be from Sasha?”

“Ruby, we know they were from Sasha. As the previous Mistress, she had access to more Belcourt ladies. It would not be surprising if she bewitched some of them.”

“But I heard you already gathered some ladies, interrogated them. Had none spoken?”

Jade shook her head. “They all claim the same thing. That they found the articles on the floor, slipped under their doors. We cannot punish them for crimes we cannot prove. They are to be set free, but will still be watched. Just in case, of course.”

Ruby nodded. “Sasha’s old Servants?”

Jade shook her head. “Her former Servants are in Dockerly in their new posts. They were posted there before we caught Sasha and had not left the island since then. But their Belle is currently watching them.”

“I do not know, Jade. This is—”

“You are the only one I can trust, Ruby. I know how good you are.”

“This is the Sutherland Post we are talking about.”

“And you were the Belle of the previous owner.”

She shivered at the memory of Willoghby.

“Surely, you know his inner circle—the people he trusted. Those people must know who the current owner is.”

Ruby sighed. “Very well, I shall try my best.”

“Delaney is working on the crown prince, but we doubt she is getting any closer. Emory is quite a difficult man. Elusive, even.”

Ruby chuckled, reached out to take Jade’s hand. “Fret not, Jade. I believe I’m the more experienced Belle. I will learn who is behind the Sutherland Post with little help.”

Jade grinned. “I never questioned your capabilities, Ruby.” Then the lady looped her arm around hers again. “Now, should we go back inside? I hate the sunlight.”

---

Sasha ignored her husband’s deep sighs beside her. She threw him a sideway glance and instantly looked away.

He was not terribly pleased that she went behind his back. And he was not looking thoroughly at ease either as they walked behind Reginald, the fallen monarch slow in his steps.

“Once we take him out of that room, and the moment you walk out of there alive, I will chain you to our bed,” her husband grumbled under his breath. “I swear, darling, I will do just that.”

He had said it four times now, and each time he did, Sasha sensed that the threat may be true. “This will be the last time I will keep something from you,” she promised.

“It is not that you kept something from me, Sasha,” he said, hand resting firmly at the small of her back. “You deliberately placed yourself in danger.”

“I knew Gabrielle would not hurt me.”

“You are carrying our child.”

She felt his fear, and she did not blame him for it. She also understood his lack of trust in any Belcourt Soldier. Perhaps she took an enormous risk, but they would not be here now without it.

Reginald’s men were at the other end of the corridor, watching. Rider and Greene were somewhere in the ship as well, watchful as always because they did not know where the other Soldier was.

Finally, Reginald reached the door and stopped. Sasha moved forward, but was stopped by West. “I do not like this,” he murmured, ignoring Reginald’s impatient look.

Sasha smiled and kissed his chin. “We shall be back.”

He reluctantly let her go, his eyes still angry and disappointed. But they had both endured more than this before. He had to let her go multiple times in the past.

“Go before I stop you,” he said, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead.

She joined Reginald at the door. The old man grumbled something about bloody husbands before he reached for reached out and pushed the door open.

Already inside was Gabrielle, sword in hand.

“At the very least, it’s not a pistol,” Reginald murmured to Sasha before taking a step inside. He stopped, a mere three steps away from Gabrielle and her weapon, his eyes steady, hard mouth breaking into a soft smile. “Good evening Gabrielle.”

The red-haired Soldier ignored him, eyes darting to Sasha who stood at one corner. Gabrielle scoffed, looking back at Reginald, eyes unreadable. “If you think you can persuade a Belcourt Soldier into something, you are wrong. I am here to kill you.”

“I know, child. You are not the first to try,” Reginald said, chuckling as he reached for a chair. “But I’m not here to talk to a Soldier or whatever you call yourselves.”

Gabrielle, if she was curious, did not voice it. She remained where she stood, in her dress shirt and breeches, her hair tied up; she was ready for battle.

Reginald let out a sigh of relief as he sat, as if the walk from his cabin to here had been a pain. He took his time, shifting in the chair until he found the perfect position. Then he looked up at Gabrielle. “I’m here to meet a Vandenberg.” Gabrielle’s face hardened, and Reginald smiled at her knowingly. “That branch of your family has always been very naughty, child. Very naughty, indeed.”

XVI | Vandenbergs

“Gabrielle Jane Vandenberg Shaw,” Reginald said from where he sat.

The Soldier threw Sasha an accusing look.

“Tell me what you know about your family, child,” the old monarch said. “What did they tell you?”

Veering her gaze back on Reginald, Gabrielle said, “You seem to already know about them. Why are you asking me?”

“Of course, I know about them. You Vandenbergs are an odd sort,” Reginald said with a light chuckle. “I’m asking you because you seem… clueless.”

“I know enough to say you are trying to manipulate me.”

“I’m not, child. How could I when you already are? Manipulated, I mean. Now, your brother, thank God for his excellent sense, is not quite fond of your mother’s side of the family. He wants you to join him.”

Gabrielle smiled coldly. “What story about my family did you tell my brother? Is that how you got to him?”

“Your brother told us nothing. He was as blind as you before he joined the Circus.” Reginald motioned his hand at Sasha. “The Duchess of Eaton did everything. Can you believe it? A lady from Belcourt managed to uncover more secrets than my useless subjects ever did before. Everything is quite clear now, you see—Why you’re in Belcourt. Why Albert was the High Priestess. Why I was dethroned.”

Gabrielle did not say a word, nor did she move from where she stood. Her hand was firm around her weapon, ready to strike at any moment. The ship was not gentle tonight, but the woman held her ground better than Sasha or the chair Reginald was sitting on.

“I was taken out of power not because Louis had to be king,” Reginald continued, his wrinkled eyes steady and firm on Gabrielle. “Louis became king so your dear aunt could be queen.”

Sasha noted the surprise in Gabrielle’s green eyes. So, she did not know.

Reginald scoffed, shaking his head. “How ignorant are you, child? I wonder…” he said, leaning over so he could peer closely at Gabrielle. “Are you aware your family owns Belcourt?” By now, Gabrielle’s face was as white as the moonlight on the wall. “No?” Reginald asked. “Or are you aware that the previous Mistress you served—the one before your current one—was another aunt?”

“You’re lying,” Gabrielle gritted out.

Reginald chuckled, staring at Sasha who did not share his mirth. “You are telling me, child, that you’ve been serving Belcourt blindly? That your previous High Priestess, the dead Albert, was your cousin and you did not even know it?”

In one swift motion, before Sasha even realized it, Gabrielle moved forward and pointed the blade of her dagger right between Reginald’s eyes. The monarch held up his hands and leaned away.

“The Vandenbergs built Belcourt as an orphanage over a century ago, Gabrielle,” Sasha said, finally breaking her silence. “They hide behind the thousands of benefactors they collected over the years. They still have those benefactors—they are the same names we danced for when we were in the Common Court. Over the years, the Vandenbergs had built its own empire within Belcourt’s walls, planting their own into its core.”

“Stop spewing lies, Sasha,” Gabrielle said, weapon steadily pointed at Reginald. “Albert was not the High Priestess. He was a man—”

“His mother, the queen, was the High Priestess before him. He was trained to replace her, and he did. How do you think they manipulated Louis? His wife was the High Priestess, and his mistress was a Belle—Elizabeth Blackwood. We are both familiar with her, are we not?

“Queen Helena, then High Priestess, kept Arielle in Belcourt. The king’s bastard could not be out in society. Your mother, the queen’s cousin, had to give up one of her own to be trained within Belcourt. It was easy, because you were a twin. There was no failed pregnancy to explain because no one had to know she carried twins. Your brother is a needed heir, and you are a sacrifice to show loyalty to the family.”

“Do you see it now, child?” Reginald asked, then stopped when Sasha threw him a look of warning.

Sasha took a step forward, eyes on Gabrielle’s dagger. “It will not be surprising if your new High Priestess is one of your own, Gabrielle. A Vandenberg. But we know it is a child. And knowing Arielle’s close relationship with Albert, and with her ambitious nature, it could be safe to assume that she may be amongst the ones who are currently ruling Belcourt until the High Priestess is of age.”

“The problem now for the Vandenbergs,” Reginald spoke again, voice less mocking, “is that Elizabeth Blackwood’s daughter does not carry your blood.”

“Arielle is in danger, Gabrielle. The queen, along with the rest of the Vandenbergs, will attempt to regain control of Belcourt. They will need to infiltrate the Palace.”

Gabrielle looked at Sasha. “Why are you telling me all of this? I am but a Soldier.”

She met the woman’s gaze. “You know Arielle better than I do. And you care for her. She is a danger to herself as much as she is a danger to Belcourt because of what she is not .” She stepped back, hands on the bulge in her abdomen. “This is no longer about serving Belcourt, Gabrielle. This is about saving it from your own family.”

---

Ruby could tell that Sheridan was surprised to see her.

“I never said you can meet me in my home, Ruby,” Sheridan said, wrapping a red robe around her petite form.

“Clearly, I am one who needs clear rules,” she replied, pulling down the feathered hood of her light blue cloak. “You have to leave.”

Sheridan blinked, then frowned. “Why?”

“Belcourt is looking for you.” She stepped closer, her footsteps muffled by the thick carpet of the small drawing room. “Leave Coulway for now.”

“Did they catch you?”

“No,” she said. “I don’t know. One can’t truly know with Belcourt.”

“What do you mean?”

“My Mistress has given me an assignment.” She held Sheridan’s gaze until understanding dawned.

“They asked you to find me.”

“Belcourt does not ask. They give orders,” Ruby said, voice etched with irritation. “I’m a very capable Belle, Sheridan. And Jade knows me too well. She knows my connections and that I can very well use them to easily find you. My own Servants will also spy on me. I do not have their loyalty.”

Sheridan shook her head. “I’m as capable as you, Ruby. I have my men.”

“Your men can easily be bought,” she snapped. “Go. For now, leave Coulway.”

Sheridan merely looked at her. Ruby could tell she was already making plans. And she also knew the woman would not go away. “No.”

She sighed and looked around. “Then at least find another place to stay. This villa belonged to your uncle. At the very least, make it seem difficult for us to find you.”

Sheridan smiled. “Are you worried?”

“Of course. I need you.” Her gaze flickered away with annoyance. “How many more articles did Sasha leave?”

“She only left five letters.”

Ruby nodded and pulled her hood back up. “Print them all.” She rushed to the door, saying, “And I’m utterly serious, Sherry. Find another place.”

---

The two Soldiers outside the white villa stood motionless, guarding the door as if they had been there for years, frozen.

Ellise and Dior waited in the villa across the street along with two other Royals, who had been on the island for months. The other one was on his way.

The moonlight streamed through windows of the parlor. The lamps were put out because they would not be needing them. The distant sound of the wind from the nearby ocean breezed outside, rustling the trees that lined the street.

No one asked, although Ellise knew they were all thinking about the same thing: Where in the bloody hell is he?

Dior threw her a look. She ignored him, her eyes on the street outside.

Another silent hour later, they heard it. The carriage wheels and the hooves echoing down the cobbled road.

Ellise got up and the three other men followed her out into the hall. They all waited by the door, Dior with his hand on the handle. She felt for her pistol as she stood by the window, lifting her free hand, palm open. Waiting.

The carriage stopped outside the villa, blocking them from the view of the Soldiers. Someone asked a question, perhaps one of the Soldiers, and a woman’s voice replied from inside the carriage, her words drowned by the distance and the wind.

Wasting no time, Ellise flicked her fingers. Dior pulled the door open and rushed outside, the two Royals right behind him. They were not wearing their coats, their strides long and sure. Ellise stayed, moving swiftly beside the open doorway to wait.

She poked her head out just as the woman in the carriage shouted for help. Her cries were soon muffled by her companion, but not too soon because the Soldiers heard. The two Royals rounded the carriage to deal with them.

Dior swung the carriage open and Sasha’s previous Servant jumped out, square jaw set tight, looking scared. Edward Worthington, the other Royal, followed soon after, his hand clamped over the Belle, one arm around her midriff as he carried across the street and toward Ellise.

The carriage driver, a woman with curly blond hair and wide forehead, rushed to help him with the struggling Belle.

Ellise stepped aside to let them all in, drawing her pistol out.

“The cook is unaware of our plans,” Iyana said to Ellise as Worthington dragged the Belle into the parlor without a word. “We could not risk it.”

She nodded, throwing Dior and other two Royals a glance. Dior had just disarmed one Soldier and was now fighting with the woman with bare fists as the other two Royals lured the other Soldier to her comrade so they could trap the pair.

“You can take her here later.” Her eyes went to the wide-eyed driver. “For now, hide the carriage,” she ordered, bounding down the steps, drawing her pistol out.

One Soldier was down, lying limp on the ground, one Royal tying her hands behind her. The other was holding her sword in front of her as she backed against the door, warding Dior and the other Royal.

They had agreed not to use their pistols tonight, but with just one more Soldier to deal with, Ellise was willing to risk waking up the entire strip. She pointed lower as she approached, then pulled the trigger.

The woman fell down with a surprised cry, but not without a fight. She swung her sword to the side, almost hitting Dior, but the other Royal already reached her, catching her hand and disarming her. She screamed, perhaps even louder than the pistol, and also to warn whoever was inside the white villa. The Royal covered the Soldier’s mouth with her own cloak, dragging her toward the villa where Worthington and the others were.

The carriage driver climbed behind the two horses and rode off without a word. Soon, the street was empty.

Ellise had already opened the door when Dior joined her. He pushed her behind him, taking the lead.

Then they stopped.

“What do you want?” the stern voice asked from the second landing.

They both looked up and found an old woman, wrapped in a green silk robe, looking down at them from the top of the staircase. Her graying hair was almost white under the moonlight spilling through the round window behind her.

Three women stepped out of the shadows, all of them holding pistols.

The older woman, however, held a rapier, its long blade glinting in the moonlight.

Ellise’s jaw tightened as Dior stepped forward, and her eyes flickered to the three servants. All of them were pointing their pistols at him.

Taking a slow, dragging breath, she placed her hands behind her to hide her pistol. And then waited.

“Good evening, my lady,” Dior greeted, his voice confident. “I was sent here by Sasha Merson.”

“The traitor,” the old Mistress of the Court of Arms said, tone as blank as Dior’s.

Ellise knew Dior was smiling as he said, “If you ask your Servants to put down their weapons, I will gladly deliver the message I came here for.” He turned to the three women. “And if my message fails to serve its purpose, they can point and shoot.”

The woman looked magnificent where she stood. Glowing in the moonlight, an old goddess ready to strike a blow of mercy. Then her eyes went to Ellise and stayed there for quite a while, curious at first, then knowing.

“I would rather get the message from tonight’s master of the game,” Theodora Vandenberg stonily said.

Ellise smiled at the woman and took a step forward, dropping her hands to her side just as she brushed past Dior, who secretly took her pistol. She stood two paces away from him and tilted her head to the side, sensing two servants turning their weapons at her. Then her gaze went back to the older woman.

“Good evening, my lady,” she greeted. “The Circus wishes to work with you.”

Theodora Vandenberg just stared at her with a calculating look in her eyes. “I prefer if you tell me something that will spare you life.”

Ellise blinked slowly, as if foxed. Then she threw the woman an empty smile. “Very well,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “We have Albert’s daughter.”

The relief Ellise felt when she saw the frozen look on the woman’s face was quite immense that amusement reached her eyes. “You are not aware?” she asked with mock surprise. “The two remaining Vandenbergs are now out of Belcourt. One was sent off to kill Reginald; the other cast out.” She took another step, ignoring the pistols that followed her. “Your sister, the queen, is having troubles of her own. Perhaps that’s why you never got the news. There is trouble in your little Belcourt kingdom, my lady. Your family is losing control.”

Theodora Vandenberg looked stunned. Speechless.

“Can your Servants now drop their weapons?” she asked. “I’m quite certain you would want to hear what we have to offer.”

XVII | Horizons

The sunroom was dark, with just the faint moonlight slipping between the drapes surrounding them. In a few hours, they would be drawn to the side and the entire room would glow in warm sunlight. Tonight, however, there were just shadows and fire.

Theodora Vandenberg looked as imperial as anyone who had the power to sink a ship. Ellise smiled at her from where she sat, her leg crossed over the other, a line of moonlight cutting diagonally across her form. Dior was outside the door, face to face with the woman’s servant.

“How did you know?” Theodora Vandenberg asked, her blue eyes fixed on hers, unmoving, unrelenting.

“When you burn something, you leave ashes,” Ellise replied, the corner of her lips quirking before she added, “Or in your case—what you drown eventually floats.”

The wrinkles around Theodora’s mouth deepened as her lips pursed in what could be a hidden smile or hate. Or regret for being caught.

“As I said, Albert’s daughter is with us. The child he bore with his mistress. The same child you all sank a ship for to steal. In her place reigns the king’s bastard.”

“Arielle is loyal to Albert’s cause. I see no reason for alarm.”

“Are you certain? I do not see the confidence. Are you aware Albert wanted to side with Napoleon? Under Arielle’s rule, Belcourt is now working behind her father’s back so Napoleon could be king.”

Theodora’s face hardened, fulgid antipathy in her eyes.

Ellise shifted in her seat, wanting to get this over with. “If the king is dethroned, so will the queen, your sister.” She could almost see the woman’s thoughts. Theodora, like others in her family, was chosen to grow up in Belcourt. She became Mistress of the Court of Arms to protect the High Priestess, while her sister became queen.

“Do you wonder?” she asked. “That if you stayed as Mistress, you could have kept an eye on Albert? Could have stopped his crazy ideas? He was mad—we know that now. That’s why the queen had to kill him. Through your niece, Esther, of course.” Ellise smiled. “She would have been a better High Priestess. But that may not be possible now. We also have her.” Theodor’s brow twitched, and Ellise’s smile widened. “Gabrielle is also on a ship with Reginald and our Royal Master. I wonder how that will go for your brave Vandenberg niece?”

“If you think Helena does not have a plan, then you underestimate the queen,” Theodora mockingly said.

“Well, whatever she is doing, it must be quite limited. The Circus has also struck a deal with Emory, who willingly gave us his sister.”

Theodora’s shoulders shook as a low chuckle rolled out of her. “It seems you also underestimated Emory.”

“Mayhap. But it does not erase the fact that Belcourt is without a Vandenberg. And soon, Napoleon’s army will dock in Sutherland soil. Your royal family will soon vanish.” Ellise held Theodora’s gaze. “Arielle will get rid of the High Priestess. Do you think she will not come after you?” She leaned back, enjoying the conflicted look on Theodora’s face. Then she looked around and sighed. “Now, would you like our help, or would you rather sit in this place surrounded by Soldiers who could very well turn on you after one order from their new Priestess?”

---

Sasha stared blankly at the wall from across the bed, absently caressing her womb.

“And she simply left?” her husband asked, buttoning his shirt.

“Did you expect her to gather her swords and transfer to our cabin?” she asked.

He rolled his eyes and climbed into bed. With a sigh, he turned to her. “Do you truly think she would side with us?”

“I do not know, West.” She looked at him. “Did you think I would side with you?”

“No.”

Having made her point, she smiled. “We planted a seed, that is all.”

“Ah, you and your bloody planting,” he said, grunting as he slid lower in bed. She joined him, lying on her side. He turned to face her and his warm hand settled on the bump between them. “We have been doing naught but planting seeds, darling.”

She snorted and slapped his arm.

“No, I am serious,” he said. “If your plans with Ellise are going as planned, then we have too many bloody seeds all over the kingdom. How do we know they do not grow as weeds and kill our fruits?”

“I knew you would be impatient. All of you.” She kissed his jaw. “The harvest will come, darling. And it shall be in our favor.”

---

Arielle’s hand was shaking as she read the paper. Her jaw was tight, so was the knot in her midriff.

My greatest downfall was when I fell in love with a man who wanted to destroy Belcourt. But they are not as what Belcourt paints them to be. The Royal Circus fights for what was stolen from Sutherland.

We are ladies who were trained to be great, but outside, they see us as naught but whores. To them, we are all the same. The previous King Reginald is not how he is painted to be, as you are not what you are painted outside Belcourt.

Reginald tried to help us once. He tried to save us from the Vandenbergs, the true rulers of Sutherland and Belcourt…

She knew the Maidens were looking at her with concern. And she was aware that they were divided. And if she could not control this, if she did not find whoever was responsible for these articles, she would see a divided Belcourt.

And she could not allow that.

This was her home.

She would see it burn before she could see it crumble.

She looked up and eyed one Maiden. “Execute another raid in all Courts. Whoever has a copy of these articles shall be poisoned until they start talking.”

“But Your Highness, we already have too many women in the dungeon.”

“Then make room for more,” she said, crumpling the paper. “I do not see why we still do not have the culprit.”

“The Soldiers and the Belles are investigating, Your Highness.”

“And who is investigating them?” she asked. The Maidens looked dumbfounded. “If you think that a mere Soldier or Belle cannot be a traitor, be reminded that Sasha was a bloody Mistress herself.”

“We shall conduct an immediate investigation.”

“Start with Jade. Then start with the people she trusts.” She smiled at Asa, who was looking at her with a frown. “What is the matter, Asa? Do not tell me you can trust someone who once connived with someone outside Belcourt. Jade is only here because she is useful until she is not.”

The Maiden bowed her head and murmured an apology.

“You are the only people I can trust at the moment,” she told the seven ladies before her, all of them clad in velvet cloak. “Please do not give me reasons to question your loyalty, too.”

---

Leila looked on at the edge of the woods, absently digging into the sand. Behind her, Camila and Jamie were planning the garden of their future home. At the moment, they bickered about the flowers: of which one would grow with another, or which one would die if planted amongst others.

In front of her, Mason was bent over a bucket, lifting it with both hands. He was shirtless, his skin sprinkled with sand that sparkled against the sun. His shoulders sagged when the contents of the bucket crumbled.

“It does not have enough water,” she told him, frowning at his failure.

The boy looked up at her, the wet part of his hair dark, the dry ones golden. His blue eyes squinted at her, then blinked, pleading.

Leila rolled her eyes and sighed. She grabbed the bucket from him and stood on her bare feet. She walked near the water, her heart pounding. She had never gone near it alone.

Mason ran after her and asked, “Are you afraid?”

“No,” she snapped. Putting the bucket down. “Go fetch the water.”

He picked up the bucket and smiled. “Ellise taught me to swim.”

“I know. You told me many times.”

He ignored her and walked away, his small body too frail against the waves. He did not go far. She watched him catch the approaching wave into the bucket, stood and walked back to her.

“That is not enough,” she told him, grabbing the bucket. She walked into the water. He walked with her. “I don’t need help.”

“It is all right,” he said. “You won’t drown. No sharks here.”

Leila rolled her eyes again, bent down, and filled the bucket with water. When they returned to where they came from, she poured the contents over Mason’s mound of sand. He said thank you and returned to work.

Her eyes veered back to the woods, her thoughts drifting back to the man and the cabin. He had told her she could come back, but she would have to be careful. He could not be seen.

The man could be playing with her, but she needed to know how much of a threat he was.

“Where is your Mama?” Mason asked her.

“Dead,” she said, turning to face him. “Are you a bastard?”

He frowned at her. “Ollie said that is not a good word.”

She shrugged. “Bastards are humans, too.”

“I am not a bastard,” Mason murmured.

“Then is your Mama dead?”

“No. I’m waiting for her.”

“Where is she?”

Mason looked up at her. “I do not know.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you lying?”

He shook his head.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because Ali promised Mama.” He grinned. “You can join us if she comes back. She can be your Mama, too.”

“Mason, come here,” said Camila. “What do you think of this garden? Would a child your age enjoy this one?”

Mason immediately stood and ran to join Camila and Jamie. Leila’s eyes followed the child, thoughtful.

---

Gabrielle was frowning at the ocean. Nora, the other Soldier, stole her a look.

“Where did you go last night?” Nora asked.

“Reginald talked to me.”

The surprise in Nora’s brown eyes was apparent, but the woman remained motionless beside her. They both knew they were being watched. “Why?”

“He wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

“My family.”

“You have no family.”

Her jaw tightened, and she remained quiet.

“That is how they manipulate us,” Nora said under her breath. “They will attempt to give us what we yearn for. They know what we want most and they will do whatever it takes to use it against us. What did they tell you? That your family is looking for you?”

“Yes,” she lied.

“What else did you discuss?” Nora asked, voice suspicious. The woman was not stupid. She was not only one of the best archers in the Palace, she was also one of the most trusted Soldiers. Nora could read anyone like a bloody map. She enjoyed doing it. She would come up with strategies for both herself and the enemies simply because she found it fun.

“I almost killed him,” Gabrielle said instead. “The tip of my blade was against his pulse.”

“Then why did you not?”

“Because we have orders,” she said, looking to the side. From the end of the deck, she could see Rider Fairborne idly standing by with his friend. He no longer bothered to hide, too confident.

Nora saw where her gaze went and murmured, “A few more weeks, Gabrielle. My mind is also being tested during this trip, but we are better than them. We have a plan and we adhere to it.”

She looked at Nora. Her fellow Soldier was younger than her, Courted two years after her. Nora would have done well as a Belle, but she always claimed that her beautiful chocolate brown skin and golden-brown eyes were not weapons she preferred to use.

Gabrielle wondered how much the woman knew. Was she pretending ignorance now? Did she know about Gabrielle’s family? Her brother? About her parents?

Her eyes swerved back to Rider Fairborne, and this time, she knew he was looking at her. How much did he know? How many people knew of her ignorance?

She looked away and stared at the ocean, the horizon. For too long, she had been looking at the same line. It was there before the day broke, and would be there as the sun returned. She was sick of it. It was like a wall. She could travel all her life and she would never get near it. It was suffocating, the thought of it being there, always there.

Gabrielle turned, aware that Rider Fairborne’s gaze was on her, as well as Nora’s.

A few more weeks. She had a few more weeks to make up her mind.

XVIII |Family

Esther could not tell what he wanted, but by now, after having shared countless meals with the man, she was certain of one thing: he was amused. He would look at her from where he sat at the head of the table, the smile on his lips reminding her so much of her dead brother, Albert. As if deliberately implying he knew many things she did not, and he would not tell her because she was just a princess—a useless symbol to a kingdom that did not need her opinion.

She chewed her food and caught his gaze. He smiled, eyes twinkling like the stars he talked to her about. Yes, he told her about his travels around the world, how he spent nights in the mountains just staring at the clear sky. He told her of the people he met, the women he bedded, the childhood he both loved and hated.

“In a way, we are the same,” he had told her one morning. “We were born predestined to be someone. Have you ever wondered if that is the destiny you want for yourself?”

His question had persisted and stayed with her even as she lay in bed later that night after he said it. It still lingered in the corner of her mind even today, at this moment, as she looked at him. “You are not who you say you are, are you?” she asked, breaking the morning silence.

She did not expect him to answer, or even tell the truth. But he surprised her by laughing. “Of course, I am not.” He leaned back in his chair, his food completely forgotten. “Who do you think I am, princess?”

Esther had always believed she had a gift. That she could sense a storm before it even showed in the sky. When she was young, she would smell it in the air before anyone could. And now, as she stared at this man, she could sense a different storm. “I prefer you tell me.”

“And what do I get in return?”

“My surprise,” she replied with a shrug.

The corner of his lips curled, his eyes traveling from her eyes down to her mouth, then lower before it cruised back up to hold her gaze. “I am the son of the man intent to take your family out of the throne.”

It was not cold that rushed through her. It was dread, so strong it nearly pushed her off her chair in panic. She had been dining with the worst enemy. As she sat there motionless, just as she had been trained to react to situations such as this, she caught her breath and controlled it. “Leo Reginald Stanhope.”

“Ah,” he said with mock relief. “It is quite heavenly to hear my name spoken by you, princess.”

“You bastard,” she gritted out, her cheeks trembling. “You planned this.”

“No, but I asked for you to be here,” he said with a shrug. “I have quite a romantic bone, you see. The Royal Master was reluctant at first, but they eventually agreed to my request.” She did not say a word, nor did she ask the question. “Now, I am not so keen on being king, but my father is,” he started, and she scoffed, saying, “Liar.”

He grinned. “Not everyone is like you, princess,” he replied in a more serious tone that she almost believed him. “But like you, I am bound by blood. Once my father arrives in Sutherland, which is quite soon, there will be a war. Napoleon or not, there will be.”

“And we shall tear you to pieces.”

“You will now, will you?” he chuckled. “Would you like to hear my plan now?” When she remained quiet, he chuckled. “You are too stubborn.” He stood and walked closer, stopping just two steps away from her, hands behind him. “If we marry, you and I are going to save this kingdom.”

“There is no way I would—”

“There are only two ways this thing could end. First, your father remains to be king. Second, my father regains his throne. Now, supposing we marry, should the first one happen, you can behead me if you wish. But if the second one happens, you will be queen once I take the throne from my father because I hate beheading women.”

She forced out a laugh. “You may be stupid, Leo , but I am not. Do not think for a moment that I would let anyone use me.”

“How will I use you, darling princess?” he asked, looking at her with amusement. “In bed, perhaps, yes. But that is all I am interested in, really.” He laughed and stepped back when she glared at him. “Well?”

“Why would I ever be interested in agreeing to your plan?”

“Because you should start thinking about how you can survive this bloody game. Your mother never chose you to be High Priestess. Have you ever wondered why?”

She stiffened. How much did this bastard know? Much, that was for certain, she thought with dread.

“Why did they choose Albert? Was he more capable than you to run Belcourt?” He took a step closer. “More importantly, would she have ever found good use of you if Albert is still alive?”

Leo smiled at her. Her nostrils flared. “My mother has plans for me.”

“Of course, she does—turn you into the next High Priestess. I wonder how they can do that. You never grew up in Belcourt.”

“Neither did Albert!”

“But Albert certainly knew Belcourt for years before he ruled it. You do not.”

“You are not certain of that, ignorant fool that you are.”

His laughter rang in the breakfast room. “Darling, I know more about Belcourt than you do. I am not the ignorant fool. I know where every Belle is, where every Soldier is. And I know where they keep the retired ones. Do you even know where Sinhold is?”

She gritted her teeth but remained silent. Her mother promised to tell her everything once this was over—once she was High Priestess.

“That is where they send their women to die,” Leo said, smiling at her. “But you can learn all that, smart princess that you are. But tell me—how will you become High Priestess? Do not tell me you are planning to kick your own niece out of Belcourt?”

She scoffed. “Leila is but a child. She is not even ruling Belcourt as we speak.”

“Oh, balderdash. You are not fit to be High Priestess,” he said with a scoff. She was about to say something when he added, “You can be queen once I become king. And with you as queen, and a Vandenberg at that, you can take over Belcourt. You can choose the next High Priestess.” He stepped back with a satisfied smile, as if he knew he finally got her. “And that, my dear, is a far greater power.”

---

The man had red hair and green eyes, his gaze mild, his smile kind. But Leila knew she could not trust him. Yet, she came almost every night to talk to him. She knew that the stories he told her were all said to manipulate her.

He would answer any question she had. At first, she asked about the most trivial things. How did they hunt their food? What animals had he found thus far? Did he know how to swim? And he would answer with a gentle, playful voice. As if he was talking to his own child.

But she was no child. She had no parents either. Like everyone else from Belcourt, she was unwanted before she was chosen by Albert.

“What is your name?” she asked him one night, the two of them sitting under a tree in the shadow of the night.

“Why are you asking now?” he asked with a smile. She shrugged and waited. “August.”

“Leila,” she said.

“I know,” he said, his smile growing gentler.

“You know me, do you not?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“We are family.”

She stiffened. Family . She had none. “You are lying.”

“No, I am not.”

Swallowing the confusion, she asked, “Are you my father?”

“No,” he said. “I’m your uncle.”

Her brows fused into a frown, her mind spinning at an unbelievable speed. She was not prepared for this. How could she? But then, this must be how he planned to trick her. “And you want me to stay outside Belcourt. Is that why you are here? To take me away?”

He shook his head. “I do not have the power to do that. Not when everyone else wants you to return.”

She frowned. What was this man trying to do? She did not know how to deal with this. Albert never taught her how to deal with this. Should she have not come here? Should she return and never come back to the cabin?

“Leila, you are a Vandenberg,” August told her. “So am I.” He did not move, but she could sense he wanted to reach out. “The Vandenbergs rule Belcourt.”

She shook her head. “Belcourt is ruled by the High Priestess, one who has also been abandoned.”

“Albert was not a foundling, was he?” August asked. “He was the crown prince.”

“Y-Yes, but he was—”

“He was placed there by his mother, Queen Helena Vandenberg Davercher. All High Priestesses before him were also Vandenbergs.”

“But I—”

“You are Albert’s daughter. He took you away from your mother and placed you in Belcourt. Just like what they did to my sister—my twin.” His smile vanished, replaced by a look of both sadness and hatred. “Gabrielle.”

A warning screamed inside her, telling her to run away, to not believe him. But she could not.

Mother. He said mother. She had one.

She swallowed and moistened her lips. Mother. She wanted to know more, but how? Asking would make her look desperate. Asking would tell this man she wanted a mother. She did not. Belcourt had always been enough. Venus, Albert, Arielle… the other Maidens… they were enough.

Albert told her that her mother was dead. But was she?

“Our family, the Vandenbergs, will do anything to keep you inside Belcourt, Leila. That is how they plan to rule Sutherland.”

She shook her head. “Belcourt rules none but itself.”

His smile told her he knew something she should not know.

“And if what you are saying is true,” she said, “then I agree with your family. I will return to Belcourt.”

He shook his head. “No, you cannot.”

“You are going to stop me?”

“No, but Arielle would.”

She frowned. “Arielle is naught but my regent.”

“And she is ruling Belcourt as we speak.” August took a moment to look at her. “And she is doing a very poor job.”

“What do you mean?”

“Belcourt is in unrest. The ladies are realizing the truth about the Vandenbergs. Many of them wish to be free. We just got word that many are also being punished by Arielle for crimes they did not commit, for disobeying her orders.” August turned to face her, and she nearly scrambled away to run. But his gaze held her in place. “If you go back inside Belcourt, Leila, you will be killed.”

At that moment, whether or not this man was telling the truth, Leila realized her first mistake. She should not have left Belcourt.

---

Ellise looked out into the open sea, the night wind blowing her hair back. Dior was leaning against the railing, his back on the horizon, his hair blown face ward. They had not discussed Theodora Vandenberg since they left. They knew their visit could only go two ways: Theodora would betray them or work with them.

“They would be here soon,” Dior said, looking at her with a small smile at the corner of his mouth. “Once they dock, you will be free of the stupid Royals.”

She smiled back. “Pity. I was starting to get used to you, men.”

“When should we get married?” he asked. When she remained quiet, he added, “Are you weighing the consequences?”

“Of marrying you, no. Of marrying into your family, yes.” She sighed. “By now, our mothers must be at war.”

He looked over his shoulder, as if he could already see Herst beyond the darkness of the sky and sea. “I am willing to wager my entire fortune that we shall arrive to an announcement that the wedding could not happen.”

“No wager then. I agree. They must have already agreed our families are not a suitable match by now.”

“We will not have to tell them it was all pretend,” he said, belatedly adding, “If we both agree not to marry.”

“We did lie, but I’m quite certain I was not pretending,” she admitted.

His smile widened. “You will hate being a duchess.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Surely it is not worse than being Darcy.”

They fell silent, unbothered by what awaited them in Herst. Their minds were at the little pieces they had set in place, all waiting for the arrival of the king.

XIX | Arrivals

Arielle looked through the mirror and absently watched Tanner button his dress shirt. She waited until he strapped the last of his shoes and straightened to full height and smoothed this black hair with his fingers. His brown eyes met hers and he smiled in the same charming way he always did. And as always, she looked away, not too keen on enjoying the gentle look in his eyes. It was his weakness, she thought. He was too soft, too easy to manipulate. One word from her and he would do anything.

“Do you know where she is?” she asked the question that she had tried not to ask. But things had changed. Like leashed hounds who were starting to realize they could bite, the women of Belcourt were becoming a little… uncontrollable.

And that was just one of her concerns. She was yet to know if the Soldiers had taken care of Leila in Herst. She was yet to find out who was behind the articles circulating in Belcourt, poisoning the minds of the ladies. They were yet to capture the owner of the Sutherland Post. They still needed to kill the king.

But before that, before she could do anything, she had to get to Esther. The woman was a threat to her seat and power, to the things she and Albert had planned for the future of Sutherland and Belcourt. Leila would be easy to deal with, but Esther… Esther was a capable woman who managed to manipulate one of Belcourt’s Belles. She had her mother’s support, and if Arielle could believe Albert, Esther also had the means to manipulate the king and even Emory, the current crown prince.

“Do you mean Esther?” Tanner asked, brow cocked high. “We have just met after a long time, Arielle. I was hoping we would not be discussing business .”

“I have priorities,” she said, throwing the warm bed a glance and then turning around to face him. “Now that you helped me satisfy one, I also hope that you help me with Esther.”

“They took her far,” he said, shrugging into his heavy coat. His face looked disappointed, as he always was whenever she talked about Esther or the Circus. He was a needy man, always had been.

“Where?”

“Do I get a prize if I tell you?”

“You can walk out of here alive,” she said in jest as she walked over to him and planted her palms flat on his chest. “I need to get to her.”

He sighed, looking conflicted. “If I tell you, she will know I betrayed her. Everything I have been doing for you will be over because she will never let me be near her again.”

“You need not come to her again,” she said, keeping herself in check, hoping he could not read the desperation behind her voice. “You will no longer have to be near her.”

He read the meaning behind her words and he shook his head. “Will you be safe?”

She knew he was asking out of concern, but he should know by now that it was unnecessary. It was never a question of how she could keep herself safe, but how she could get what she wanted. She was not reckless. For one, her greatest desire was to kill the king so she could place Napoleon in charge of the kingdom. But for now, that would have to wait. Louis had canceled all of his social functions to keep himself safe and to look for his daughter. And before he reached Esther, Arielle had to be there first.

“Of course,” she said.

He nodded warily. “She is in Calbridge,” he said.

“Where in Calbridge?”

“Stapleton.”

“It belongs to the Duke of Calbridge.”

“Yes,” he affirmed. “I’m uncertain what she plans to do with the Circus, love. This could be a trap,” he added.

“To catch me?”

He shrugged. “She is very much aware that you want to get to her. She could be luring you into a trap.”

Arielle nodded, appearing thoughtful. “Then I shall heed your advice and stay away.”

He looked unconvinced, but it soon disappeared when she planted a kiss on his lips. Later, long after he left the tavern, Arielle walked out wrapped in a black cloak and climbed into a carriage.

The Soldier sitting beside her was silent, waiting for her word.

“Gather as much Soldiers as you can. We are going to Calbridge.”

---

Winfield was eerily quiet when they arrived. Ellise and Dior exchanged a look as they stepped into the hall. There was no cause of alarm—the butler seemed unbothered, and the manor looked like it had not been through a devastation. It could only mean most of the people in the manor were not around.

“Where is everyone?” Ellise asked just as her mother, back erect and face eternally unreadable, emerged from the drawing room.

Natalia St. Vincent stiffly nodded when Dior greeted her good afternoon. Then, looking at her daughter, she said, “Please join us.”

They followed the woman and found her father standing by the fire, leaning against the hearth in the same manner he would every time he knew something dramatic was about to happen. But Oliver was not around to offer such entertainment, Ellise thought as her gaze swept around the room. The Duke and Duchess of Calbridge sat together, quite too far from Simon St. Vincent, looking like they were about to go to a funeral.

No one else was around. “Where is everyone else?” Ellise asked.

“They went shopping in town. Caroline and Trent took the children. Oliver and Aliya are with them as well,” her mother replied, taking the seat near her husband. When she threw the duchess a look, Ellise knew. And she knew the moment Dior realized the same thing she did because he sighed beside her. She stepped closer to him as her mother opened her mouth to say, “The duchess and I have decided that our families may not be perfect for each other.”

Ellise blinked, turned to her father who was biting his lips, who then looked away to stare at one corner of the ceiling after lifting his shoulder in a slight shrug. Veering her gaze to the other side of the room, she found the duke frowning at something on the carpet while his wife maintained her haughty posture, as if to challenge them if they challenged them.

“I did not realize the marriage included everyone else,” Dior finally said, breaking the terse silence that followed Natalia’s statement.

Ellise looked up at him and their eyes met, followed by a long silent conversation. This was a perfect way out, a voice said inside her head. There were too many consequences in a marriage, but the nuisance they would have to face if they remained just lovers would be just as much.

The corner of his mouth twitched into a small smile while he waited for her silent answer. Would she marry him?

“Likewise,” she finally said, tearing her eyes off Dior’s satisfied face to look at her mother’s gaze. “I have always thought the marriage would be between Robert and I.” From the corner of her eye, she saw her father nodding in agreement before he cleared his throat and shifted his weight on one foot.

The duke warily looked at his wife, who was looking at Dior with narrowed eyes.

“The duchess and I do not agree on many things,” Natalia said, throwing her friend a look.

“I believe it is I who shall have to agree to a union in front of the bishop on the wedding day,” Ellise said.

“If this is about petty things such as the color of her dress or colors of ribbons, I believe I would not care,” Dior added. “After all, I am blind to colors.”

Harriet Dior’s eyes narrowed into slits. “This is not just about those things, Robert.”

“Is this about where we shall reside?” Ellise asked.

“We would most definitely not live with any of you, fret not,” Robert said before their mothers could object.

Ellise frowned at her father as the man tried to mouth something. After two more tries, he finally managed to deliver the message. “Dowry? Is this about my dowry?”

“Do you not have enough?” Dior asked her.

Ellise said, “Of course, I do,” as her father shook his head.

“Then I do not see why there is a problem.”

Again, Ellise read her father’s lips. “Your mother does not agree that I should have full control of my dowry.”

The duchess’ face turned scarlet. “That is not what I meant—”

“Of course, that’s what you meant. You do not wish my daughter to exercise liberty on her monies.”

“I said no such thing, Natalia,” Harriet Dior insisted.

“Robert can have my entire dowry after three years,” Ellise said.

“Three years?” Natalia St. Vincent asked.

“After she invests it,” Dior replied. “I have a few suggestions,” he added to Ellise.

“Perfect.” She smiled at their baffled parents. “Robert and I shall marry,” she proclaimed, arching a brow when her mother opened her mouth to argue. “Everyone is invited, of course, but it would not matter if no one comes.” Her gaze flickered to her father who was smiling at her.

“Brandy?” Robert asked.

“Y-Yes,” the two older gentlemen immediately said, and soon, the four of them left the drawing room, leaving the two older women alone.

Ellise joined the gentlemen for a drink to discuss her trip with Dior, wedding plans completely brushed aside. An hour later, they heard a commotion. It was not from the duchess and Natalia St. Vincent, much to everyone’s surprise. The commotion came from the hall.

As they all filed out into the corridor, Caroline was running toward them, looking frantic.

“What happened?” Ellise asked, looking behind her friend, counting the children in the hall. One was missing.

“Leila,” Caroline breathlessly said. Her husband was immediately at her side, looking grim.

“She just disappeared. Gone. We were entering a shop when we noticed she was missing,” Trent explained, eyes on Dior.

Ellise looked at Dior, who nodded and strode away with Trent, Oliver, and their fathers. In the hall, Aliya was ushering the children into the parlor, answering their questions.

“Will we find her?” Camila was asking.

“Will she be all right?” asked Jamie.

When Ellise turned to leave, Caroline asked, “Where are you going?”

“Take care of the children,” she said, rushing to the veranda at the rear of the manor, and then straight to the woods.

---

Yesterday, the sign of land finally emerged from the horizon. And along with it came the tension. As far as Gabrielle knew, the plan was to take Reginald. He was not meant to be killed because, as Arielle told her before she left, Belcourt had a plan for the previous monarch.

“I will be the eye tonight,” Nora told her. “You take a rest.”

She did not argue and waited until night came, staring blankly at the ceiling, the sound of the crashing waves now a part of her system. The constant shout from the crew of the ship was an echo that would stay in her for a long time.

When minutes turned to hours, Gabrielle sat on her cot, her eyes landing on Nora’s side of the cabin. She knew where the woman hid the map she secretly took with her from Belcourt. She also knew where her spare weapons were. Not that she did not trust Nora if the woman kept secrets, but it was part of their training to always be vigilant. To always question. To keep secrets.

She knew Nora had searched her belongings as well. And it would not surprise her if the woman discovered where she hid her spare weapons. She stood and walked to the door dressed in trousers and a thick dress shirt. Strays of red curls flew from the band at her nape as she opened the door and poked her head out. The corridor was empty, but she knew where Nora would be tonight.

Her steps quiet, drowned by the sounds of the sea, Gabrielle walked down the corridor, turned a corner, and slipped behind wooden crates. She waited a few minutes, then continued through another corridor and down a set of stairs, landing in a dark, lower deck lined with more wooden crates and barrels. She slithered to one side, hiding in the shadows as drunk men chattered on one end. Blindly, with her back pressed into the hull of the ship, she walked to the opposite end, counting the portholes as she passed them.

When the chatters disappeared, she stopped and jumped on top of one crate, peering through one porthole.

Just like the many nights before, there was nothing there. She jumped down and rushed to the opposite side and peered. And just as she thought she would find the same dark waves, she stiffened.

From a distance, perhaps merely an hour away, was a silhouette of a ship. And minutes away were five smaller silhouettes.

Boats. Rowing straight toward them.

It only meant one thing: the Soldiers were coming for Reginald.

XX | Ships

Venus was smiling at her. She had just finished dressing and was ready to go to sleep. The bed was small, as was everything else in the small cabin of the ship. In a few days, she would be back in Belcourt. Hanna, the Soldier accompanying them back home stood in one corner, quiet. Leila turned to her, but the woman could not meet her gaze.

“I am happy to be finally going home,” Venus said, taking her hand. “You no longer have to worry, Your Highness. There are Soldiers around this ship who will protect you.”

Leila slowly nodded and turned. She was tired. Too tired, in fact. Camila and Jamie had dragged her around town to look at toys with Mason. She was about ready to see the day end when one Soldier approached her and hastily guided her away toward an awaiting carriage. And now, with the moon high in the sky, they were crossing the ocean back to the mainland. This was not the outcome she wanted, but she had to admit that she was safer in Belcourt. Ellise St. Vincent was right. A leader should stay safe.

The Soldier left her alone with Venus, who guided her into the bed. “I can sleep alone,” she said, but Venus remained where she was.

“How was your stay with the St. Vincents?”

She averted her gaze and looked at the ceiling. “Uneventful. I am glad you took me away. There were Royals in the woods.”

“In the woods?”

“Yes. One of them told me we are family.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Venus stiffen. “We have no family,” the girl said.

“Yes, we do not.”

A long quiet reigned between them. “And the other children?” Venus asked. “What were they like?”

“Childish. Two of them are betrothed and are constantly planning their future together. The other is an orphan…like us.”

“Who?”

“The boy.”

“Where are his parents?”

Leila blinked, stole Venus a look, then sighed. “I do not know. He does not know either.”

“And Dior?”

“Away. They trapped me in Herst. I want him found together with Ellise St. Vincent.”

Venus nodded. “We will. I am certain Arielle already has eyes on them.”

Leila’s jaw tightened. “And the moment I reach Belcourt, I want Arielle in chains.”

She did not have to look to know that her statement surprised Venus. But her words were law, and her Elected only nodded. “We shall do that as soon as we arrive, Your Highness.”

Turning away, Leila closed her eyes. “I want to sleep now.”

She did not hear Venus move. The door remained closed and they were alone, but she could hardly take a breath without feeling it rise to her throat. It was not the size of the room that made her feel suffocated. Something was wrong, she thought. Something was not right.

It must have been an hour, or perhaps more, when she stirred awake. It had been so long since she had awakened in panic, but tonight she did. The nagging feeling of uncertainty that she had tried to ignore since they left Herst came back to her. Nothing could go wrong now that she was with the Soldiers and Venus. Or could there be?

She looked around and found the room empty. And dark. Without thinking, she reached for her shoes and hastily put them on, her heart thudding against her chest, the feeling of dread slowly burning in her chest and at the back of her tongue. The voice in her head was talking again, telling her to hide… to run. Something was not right.

She reached the door and grabbed the handle. It was locked. Why? So she could be safe? Or so she could not escape?

No. It could not be.

Ellise St. Vincent’s words echoed back to her…

What you do is dream, child. That you have power. But in fact, you are in a game where you are the pawn. Someone is making you play and you do not even realize it.

Her breathing came in short gasps.

Arielle .

That bastard did this. August, the man from the woods, was right. And she should have listened. She should have known better.

---

Gabrielle thought for a long time. No, not quite long, because she had not much time. Over the drunken laughter of the men on the deck, she thought hard. She could let Nora and the others get to Reginald. She did not have to interfere. But why was she not informed of this plan?

Because you’re a Vandenberg.

The voice got stronger, saying the same answer in every question that rampaged her thoughts.

Because you’re a Vandenberg. Arielle is not. You are a threat.

Impossible. She had served Belcourt all her life. She had no other aspirations. She could not even be High Priestess for what it’s worth. Why would Arielle consider her a threat?

Because you’re a Vandenberg.

She gritted her teeth and tightened her jaw, absently reaching for her weapon. She was crazy for doing this, but if they were out here to kill everyone else, including her, she could not allow it.

Her last conversation with her brother echoed back to her. He had begged her to join him. Back then, he did not tell her everything. Perhaps he should have, she thought. Perhaps he should have tried harder.

She walked away from the porthole and back to the stairs, mind in a haze yet quite determined to do something. But then someone was already waiting for her as she emerged at the top of the stairs.

Rider Fairborne smiled at her. “We have your friend.”

It took her a moment to digest his words. Without moving, eyes on the man, she said, “There are more coming.”

His brows rose, as if amused. “Do you mean the boats coming our way?” he asked, smiling widely. “They are not from Belcourt.”

She stiffened and her hand twitched.

“They are Royals coming to take Reginald away. The Duke and Duchess of Eaton will be joining him.” He stepped closer, throwing her weapon a glance. “And you are staying in the ship with me and a few other Royals. As you said, there are Soldiers on the way. It will be our task to make certain they will not be getting off this ship the moment they arrive.”

---

Sheridan looked up from her desk and sighed in disappointment. It was not a black-haired woman, but one of her guards. “We are ready.”

She nodded and stood. Gathering the papers on the table, she said, “I will be right down.”

She would heed Ruby’s advice and go away, but not for long. There were so much to do here. Belcourt was starting to get restless. Sutherland was starting to ask the right questions. More articles. They needed to produce more articles.

But for now, she had to go to safety. Until it was safe again.

Throwing the papers in the fire, she watched them burn. Slowly, like how she imagined Belcourt to burn.

The door burst open and a wide-eyed Ruby walked in. “We have to leave,” Ruby said, rushing toward her.

“What are you—I am leaving. But what you doing here?”

“I told you to go, and you did not listen,” Ruby hissed. “We have to leave now .”

Ruby was dressed in a dark coat, hair askew in many places. “What happened?”

“Soldiers are on their way here.”

“What?”

“I had no choice. I had to tell my Mistress.”

“You told them where I am?”

“My hands were tied.” Ruby stepped closer, looking more desperate. “I found a place we can escape to. We have to go now.”

Sheridan shook her head. “I am leaving. But you should stay. You have work in Belcourt.”

“Not if they can get you. And once they do, it will be over for me.”

“I will not talk, Ruby.”

Ruby looked beautiful—she always would be. But tonight, she looked frightened. “They will make you talk. They can make you talk.”

She scoffed, defiant. “I am not easily threatened.”

“You will not be threatened, Sherry. You will be tortured.” Ruby reached for her hand and tugged. “Come with me now.”

“Ruby, I’m going somewhere else. I will be safe there.”

“I do not trust your men. No one can be trusted, Sherry. They can be paid.”

“They are my uncle’s men.”

“ Were ,“ Ruby corrected.

Sheridan looked around the room, at the reflection of the flickering fire on the walls. “Where are we going?”

Ruby’s face hardened. “My mother.”

---

The night was quiet. Too quiet, in fact. The manor was just as silent and it was not the kind Esther was used to. Leo was always doing something, always eager for her attention. But not tonight.

She heard the clash first. Then the muffled shout.

Her heart raced, hope rising to her throat.

In her nightdress, she rushed to the wall beside the door. Nothing. She could hear nothing. Just that one clash. And that one shout.

Escape .

Whoever it was, whatever they wanted, it was her time to escape. Without further thought, she walked out of the room and padded down the corridors in naught but her soft slippers.

A thud echoed from the hall downstairs. She flinched.

She did not know why, but she rushed in the direction of his room. Did she think she would be safe there? She must be crazy. But she did it anyway. He did not want her dead, not yet, anyway. He was her safe place for now until she knew what was happening.

She stopped, realizing the end of the corridor led to the foyer that overlooked the grand hall below. Pressing her back against the wall, she poked her head out. And then she saw him across the foyer, at the end of the corridor that led to his rooms.

Esther swallowed the whimper that rose to her throat as Leo placed his finger over his mouth.

Quiet, he was telling her.

But should she? What if the intruders were here to rescue her? What if her mother finally found her?

His eyes were filled with warning. And that was when she screamed. “Help! I’m here!”

Leo cursed, sprang to his feet and rushed toward her. She did not go far before he caught her. “Stupid!” he hissed, hand over her mouth. “They are from Belcourt!”

Her eyes widened. She squirmed. He was lying. No, it was her mother’s men. They must be here to take her back home. The footsteps rushing up the stairs, however, told her otherwise. They were too light to be that of men.

Before she could confirm anything, Leo grabbed her hand and pulled her down the corridor, then another, and then another. She tried to pull back, wanting to believe she could be rescued tonight. But she did not scream again. A part of her knew she was running away from danger.

Leo pushed open a door. Another bedchamber.

“Do not make a sound,” he said, tone far from the teasing one she was more acquainted with. “Not a bloody sound, princess, or I will kill you myself.”

She was too stiff to even move, more so make another sound. He let go of her hand and rushed to the window. He cursed.

What? What is it —she wanted to ask.

“There are Soldiers everywhere,” he said. He looked around the room. “Do you know how to fight?”

She shook her head.

“Of course, you don’t,” he grumbled under his breath as he reached for something tucked in his waistband. “Stay behind me,” he said, cocking the pistol. “And whatever happens, you stay quiet.”

She nodded, swallowing another whimper, following him to the door.

“Not too close, darling,” he said over his shoulder. She took a hesitant step back, thinking she could easily push him toward danger or escape him if she had to. “Ready?” he asked, hand on the door handle.

She nodded.

Then he opened the door. And before she saw anything, a fire was shot and she was running after Leo down the corridor, jumping over a green cloaked woman on the floor.

Her hope was diminished as fast as Leo’s second shot. And as they passed the second body of a Soldier, Esther was entirely determined to stay with him. He was definitely her safe place tonight.

Leo skidded to a stop and she bumped into him. “There are three of them,” he said after poking his head out the end of the corridor.

“Then shoot them,” she ordered.

He checked his pistol, jaw tight. “I only have two more bullets.” He looked behind them.

“I’m not going back there,” she said. “Where are your bloody men?”

“Probably dead,” he said.

She cursed under her breath just as he stepped out of their hiding place and shot his last round of bullets. Then they ran—back to where the two Soldiers were. Leo picked up the sword and handed it to her. “At least hold it,” he said as he rushed to the first Soldier he shot and grabbed the woman’s weapon too.

They slipped back into the same room they came from. He went back to the window and she joined him there. There were carriages below. And probably a dozen more Soldiers.

But Leo was not looking down. He was looking ahead—at the roof of the extended part of the manor. Esther shook her head, regarding him as if he was crazy. “No,” she said, voice shaking.

He grinned at her. “Yes, or we die.”

“And we will,” she hissed, pointing at the roof.

“Not if you have excellent footing. And I assume you are a good dancer,” he said. “It is easier than a waltz.”

“You are asking me to climb out a window, cruise along the walls, and land on a bloody roof. Even the most difficult sequence of a quadrille will not compare!”

“Then die alone,” he said, pushing her aside to climb out the window.

She gasped in disbelief as he did so, then gaped when he stood outside the window, his foot on the ledge that ran along the wall. He would need to take three more steps before he could land on the adjacent roof.

“Is this goodbye?” he asked, brows cocked high.

She could hear the light footsteps outside now. She handed him the sword and gathered the skirt of her nightdress.

“Good girl, princess,” Leo said. “Now, try not to fall.”

For the first time in her life, Esther trusted her life on another that was not her mother. She let Leo guide her along the ledge, waited until he landed safely on the roof, and even gave him her hand when he reached out to help her down.

He must need her alive so much to do this, she thought. But for how long? Until when would she become useful to him?

“Careful,” he said, reminding her of the imminent danger they were in. As he said, walking on a roof was easier than a waltz.

“What now?” she asked as they reached the end of the roof. Below was nothing but grass-covered ground. And beyond was the woods.

“We jump.”

“I know. But after?” she asked, breathless.

He looked serious. They both looked helpless. He was in naught but a dress shirt and breeches, and boots. She, in a nightdress and soft slippers. “I don’t know,” he said. Perhaps it was the most honest words she heard from him.

Esther lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “Next, we survive. Then I’ll kill you.”

He scoffed, his grin returning. “Fair enough.”

Then they jumped.

And they ran.

---

Ellise was looking at the darkness before her, at the moving waves that caught that moonlight. Behind her sat Caroline, Aliya and Oliver. They were talking about Leila, how things went wrong that afternoon the child was abducted. Her mind, however, was on Shaw and ten other Royals who were in pursuit of the ship.

“The fact that they went for her meant she is the one,” Dior said beside her. “She is a Vandenberg. The question now is if this is her plan all along.”

“As I said, this could be a trap.” She looked over her shoulder, at the other men and women traveling with them. “That is why we are on a separate ship.” And just as she said the last word, Dior stiffened, his eyes frozen in shock. “Dior?” Ellise asked, frowning.

He did not reply. There was no time. He wrapped his arms around her and whirled her around. She heard him grunt, then she heard the sharp sound of the arrow fly past them.

“Dior?” she asked, pulling away and looking down at his chest.

The dark stain traveled fast, soaking his shirt. Then his arms loosened, his form falling forward. Ellise caught him, looking over his shoulder, finding the silhouette of the schooner. And the tiny yellow balls flying toward them.

And then screams. Caroline first, then Aliya. Then the Royals.

More arrows.

Then fire.

---

Sasha finally allowed herself to breathe. She smiled against the wind as the ship took them far from the one they left behind.

“Do you remember that time when we went to the Sailor Garden?” she asked her husband.

“Of course. You almost jumped off the bloody cliff.”

“Someday, I hope we can go back there,” she said. “With our family.”

“When this is over,” he said, stepping behind her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She rested her head on his arm.

“We’re going home, West.”

He planted a kiss on her temple. “We made it, Your Grace,” he said, smiling against her skin.

Sasha could only smile. She turned and found Reginald standing alone to one side, his eyes set on the approaching land, the home he had to escape many years ago. His greed for power was a juxtaposition to his frail state. Perhaps it was the only thing that kept him alive. He was not the best king in her opinion, but he would give Belcourt a chance, just as what he planned to do in the past. He would give it freedom.

Her gaze returned to the distant shadow of home. She hoped Ellise had set up the board and found the right pieces.

Because their king was on the way.

And the game was about to start.

XXI | The Lives We Lost

---

PART 2

---

THREE MONTHS LATER

Esther stared at Leo wryly as he sauntered into the room—a very tiny room. It was one of the many ones they lived in for months after they emerged out of the forest a week after their narrow escape from death. They had traveled on foot for days, slept in a small, dingy space the owner of the cottage they found on the side of the road called a room. She endured it, for she had spent a week in the forest with very little sleep. But as weeks went by, and then two more months, she was beginning to think that Leo had lost his bloody mind.

They seem to be traveling aimlessly. He claimed to be an expert traveler, thus she should trust him, but it was getting quite obvious that they were nowhere near Ross, the place he claimed to be the safest and nearest . It was that or he simply had no plans of going anywhere.

Worse, he seemed to enjoy running away. He would go away for the entire day, leaving her alone in a small tavern in the middle of nowhere, and return with food without telling her what he did or where he had been. She had thought of running away, of leaving him, but she never gathered the courage to do so. The Soldiers could be anywhere looking for her.

“Pie,” Leo said, smiling at her broadly. “Meat.”

“That’s an improvement,” she said, snatching the parcel from his hand. “Where are we going next? Another small town? Another tavern—one with a better bed, perhaps?” She did not let him answer, adding, “Or perhaps we should just go back to Calbridge and just let the Soldiers kill us both. I’m willing to take my chances.”

He rolled his eyes and brushed his hair back with his fingers. “You are too impatient.” He started to undress, and she stared at him boldly with a wry smile as she chewed on her food.

“Mayhap because I no longer wish to be dragged around by an insane man,” she said. “Or by someone who is deliberately taking his time because he refuses to go back and face whatever it is he should.”

He chuckled as he put on his only change of shirt. “You mean your men who want to kill me and the Soldiers who want to maim me?”

She offered a wide smile. “Yes.”

He sighed and turned to the bed. “Mayhap.”

She scowled. “What do you mean by that?”

“That I’m tired of this discussion,” he groaned, dropping onto the bed.

“You said we should go to Ross. I asked the barmaid, and she said we are weeks away from Ross.”

“Because we are.”

“The last tavern we went to was three days away from Ross. You are leading us away from our destination.” He did not reply and pretended to sleep. “Stanhope.”

“Hm?” he mumbled.

“This is part of your plan, is it not? To take me away? To keep me to your side until I agree to your plan to marry?”

He scoffed. “You mean to seduce you?”

“If seduction is your means to get a wife, then I believe you are the worst of the lot. It hardly leads to marriage.” She stood and went to the bed. “You are playing with my mind. You are manipulating me until I submit to you.”

“I cannot tell you of my plans.”

“I do not think you have any.”

“Then I do not.”

“You are a bloody bastard.”

“My father would disagree.”

She growled and walked away, stumbling on the shirt he threw on the floor. She kicked it aside, picked up her pie, and stormed out the room, slamming the door.

She would give him another week and then she would leave, she thought as she descended the stairs. But before she could reach the landing, she heard men angrily talking to the barmaid.

“He has long hair, yes,” the man growled. “He said his name is Leo. Bring him out now or we’ll ruin this bloody place after we ruin his bloody face.”

Heart in her throat, Esther quietly ran back to their room. “What have you done?” she demanded, throwing the pie in his direction.

He just moaned, half asleep.

“There are men looking for you downstairs and they sound angry.”

His eyes snapped open. “Bloody hell.” He jumped out of bed, fully awake now, and gathered their things. “We have to leave.”

Esther frowned. “Now?”

“Yes.”

“What have you done, Stanhope?”

He pushed his soiled clothes into his rucksack. “I may or may not owe them a few gold coins.”

Her eyes rounded in disbelief. “Did you bloody gamble—”

“You sound like a wife, darling, and it doesn’t become you.” He rushed to her, grabbing her coat along the way. “Let’s go.”

As he led her to the window, Esther almost erupted, but the shouting downstairs sounded angrier.

“Trust me, we will reach Ross soon,” Leo said before he climbed out the window.

“I don’t trust you,” she said, warily looking over her shoulder at the door. At the sound of heavy the footsteps, she faced Leo again. “This is the last time I’ll ever climb out of a bloody window!” she hissed.

---

The seven Maidens stood in a line outside the door, their heads bowed, shadowed by the hood of their purple cloaks. None moved as Arielle stepped out, in her new golden robe. No hood, no other ornaments. Her brown hair was down, free behind her.

She stopped and said, “Take your hoods down.”

They did as ordered. Asa, the seventh and youngest Maiden, was the first to take the courage to raise her head and look at her. There was fear there, uncertainty. Arielle could tell the young woman wanted to say something, but they both knew there was no turning back. The High Priestess had made up her mind.

Arielle nodded and Asa turned, leading the way down the corridor. The others followed, slowly lifting their heads as they turned away from Arielle. She followed them, the last in line. Their footsteps echoed as they traversed the path out of the hidden chamber, up the stairs that led to the secret garden. Eight Elected children were already waiting for them when they emerged into the hall of the Palace. And when they stepped out, more Soldiers were waiting with carriages.

No one was in sight. All eight carriages rolled down the roads of Belcourt alone. The Common Court was just as empty and quiet. No running footsteps of children, no tiny heads poking out of the hallways. Not even a whisper could be heard, only their footsteps.

They walked down the familiar path to the great hall and stopped outside the closed giant doors. Two Soldiers moved forward and flung them open, revealing the entire population of Belcourt inside, all wearing their respective colors, all with heads bowed in fear.

They had every right to be fearful, Arielle thought, but today, she would change that. She would make them feel safe again.

Asa led the way into the hall, and they all moved. No hoods, their faces in full view. But no one dared to look because for these ladies, stealing the Maidens and the High Priestess a look could land them in the dungeon. She would change that today. Today, these ladies would be free.

The closing of the doors followed their footsteps up to the front of the hall. No one spoke, not one soul moved, even the children standing at the back.

And then Arielle, stepping in front of the Maidens, ordered everyone to raise their heads.

---

Ellise was quiet during their entire journey. The carriage had made a few stops because her father needed it, but she never moved. She stayed motionless where she was until the next stop, then another.

It seemed an endless journey with no end in sight. The view in the window was mere shadows behind the curtain.

It had been three months to this day, and it still seemed fresh. She had always thought she was strong, that her detached attitude towards others would spare her from the pain. That was not the case now. Darcy or not, Ellise St. Vincent or not, she was not spared of the guilt.

This must be how Robert felt. For a long time, he had been blaming himself for Garmont’s death. Was that why he stepped in front of her that day? Caught the bullet for her? Was that his redemption?

Then what was hers? For the lives lost that day, how could she ever redeem herself?

She felt her father’s hold. She looked down, staring at his wrinkled hand over her own. He squeezed. She turned to him and found him smiling. He did not have to say the words because she knew what he wanted to say.

It was not her fault.

She could only disagree silently. She was responsible for all of them. It was her plan to take them all to Winfield, and it was with her permission that they were on that ship.

Brierwell soon came into view and her head started to throb again as images of that day came back to her. Of the blood and fire, of the cries and tears that followed. They lost more than they won thus far.

Reckless, that’s what she had been. Proud, too.

Finally, the carriage came to its final halt. And with as much dread as that day on the ship, Ellise could not move. The air in the carriage seemed to consume her, the open doorway of the large estate even more frightening. Inside awaited grief.

At first, they were all numb. They had to take care of the bodies, bury them with grace and affection and pride. It was the children and the wives and mothers… they grieved first and longer.

After weeks of silence, of taking care of Reginald and more planning and more spying, it was their turn—them, the Royals—to pay their respects, to face the loss.

“Ellise, darling?” her father asked, reaching out for her from outside the carriage.

Ellise squared her shoulders and took a long breath. Then she took her father’s hand. The drawing room was bright, the people inside laughing. She thought it odd, but she did not comment. The pain was clear in their eyes, the loss carved in their smiles. So she did the same. She pretended. As much as she could, she acted like she had accepted it all, that they did their best. That she was not to blame.

Caroline had a smile on her face when she approached. Her friend told her trivial stories about the curtains, of her mishap on the road last week, but her strong grip told Ellise of the story she was not saying. The way her friend clung to her as if her life depended on her made her want to cower, to drop to the ground, because she was not as strong as her friend thought. She was not even worthy of her friend’s trusting hold.

“Would you like to take a walk?” Caroline asked.

“Yes,” she replied, looking around the room. The Duke and Duchess of Remington were talking with Oliver and Aliya, her father standing in front of the window with Alannah in his arms. Caroline’s in-laws, the Duke and Duchess of Whitton, were nearby, sitting quietly, their smiles empty when Caroline gently told them she would be out for a while.

They did not take a walk. As they always did, they rode to the cabin. Caroline’s face seemed calm, but her eyes were empty. The pain Ellise was witnessing now in her friend was different, not the same when she lost her unborn child, Philippa. She could not say it was stronger, nor was it weaker. Both seemed… boundless. And somehow, to her surprise, Ellise understood it.

In a few days, they would be in Calbridge and she would see the same pain again. Witness it. And feel it engulf her, too.

They tethered the horses outside the cabin and suddenly she felt lost. She had nothing in hand, so she looked around and picked up the first daisy she found. Caroline only smiled before leading the way. “He never liked daisies,” Caroline told her.

“It is still a flower,” she retorted as they walked, emerging into the garden.

“Camila, tell Ellise Jamie never liked daisies,” Caroline said to her sister.

The girl, blond hair tied to the side and over her shoulder, looked up from her drawing pad. She frowned at the daisy in Ellise’s hand. “He hated them.”

“Then Philippa may want them,” Ellise said with an apologetic tone, turning to gently place the flower on Philippa’s headstone. As she straightened, she caught Trent’s gentle smile. He was sitting on a bench near his brother’s grave, reading a book, closing it as his wife approached and planted a kiss on the top of his head before she joined her sister on the grass beside Jamie’s tombstone.

It had been a surprise when they found out Jamie was to be buried in the cottage. But as typical of the boy, he had planned everything with Camila. They both decided to be buried in the cottage should they perish before they were wed so Philippa would always have company. No one contested, not even the Duke and Duchess of Whitton.

Ellise slowly approached them, almost afraid to be near Camila. While their ship burned in the middle of the ocean that day, Winfield was also being attacked, and God only knew what Camila had been through on that estate. She was found inside the closet of Jamie’s room, arms wrapped around Jamie’s dead body. She had dragged him inside and waited until the fight was over. She told no one of Jamie’s last moments. She told them, however, how the Royals from the woods rescued them. How Natalia St. Vincent shot one Soldier to save Mason after being shot herself. Until now, Camila only shared one detail at a time.

The children were supposed to be safe there. No one was supposed to know they were still there. And how could there be too many Soldiers? How could they have known?

Reckless. That’s what Ellise had been.

After her trip to the cabin, she returned to the manor alone, leaving Caroline and Trent with Camila. She could not bear to spend another moment with another soul, so she crept into the bedchamber she always used whenever she was in Brierwell, back when they only came here to fence and talk about conspiracies. Back when Jamie and Camila would burn their ears talking about their plans for the future—their future manor, the number of rooms, their gardens. Those things would never happen.

Ellise let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes to stop the tears.

There would be dinner tonight and she had to prepare for it. Then after, she would have to spend tea with the ladies. And then later tonight, a drink with the gentlemen to discuss their latest plans. But for now, she had to be alone because in a few days, she would suffer through the same things in Calbridge.

She poured herself a glass of brandy. Outside the window, the sky was orange, rapidly turning purple. She finished one glass, and downed another. As she sipped through her third, she felt his arms around her. She frowned and looked over her shoulder and was only met by his cold coat. “Why are you here?” she asked.

“I’ll be your escort to Calbridge,” Dior replied, his answer almost a whisper. He, too, was looking out the window. From afar, they could see the cottage, a tiny dot of shadow.

“Your mother needs—”

“She practically threw me out the door when your mother arrived. They both demanded that I be with you and your father on your journey.”

“To catch another bullet for me?”

His arms tightened around her. “My father would want this to go perfectly as planned,” was all he said, planting a kiss on her temple.

She was going to Calbridge to pay her final respects to the late Duke of Calbridge, to personally tell Lady Harriet that she was sorry for her loss.

But they would also be there because Prince Emory would be there to pay his respects. And so would be the Queen.

XXII | To Love, to Greed

Awe was too weak a word to describe the look on each of their faces. They were dazzled. It was as if they had finally found the last missing piece of a puzzle. Perhaps it was close to what these women would feel should they ever come face to face with the people who placed them here in the first place, the mothers who bore them into this world, the fathers who did not want them. But as children who grew up without one, the High Priestess was their mother. And Arielle intended to be just that. To be the one these women could rely on. The one they would trust.

“In light of all that has been happening in Belcourt, I understand why everyone will be confused and lost. At some point, you must have all started to question Belcourt,” she said, voice even and calm, but powerful. “You must wonder why we keep so many secrets, why we do not show ourselves.” She motioned her head to the Maidens behind her. “Perhaps I should start by addressing the articles that have been circulating in our home. I do not deny anything. It is true what Sasha has said. Most of them, at least. Belcourt has been run by the Vandenbergs.”

They looked horrified, their dreams finally crashing down on them. But the questions followed right after, clearly painted on their faces.

“For centuries, the Vandenbergs had been leading Belcourt. All High Priestesses were Vandenbergs. So is the queen.” If anyone wanted to say anything, they did not do so. They did move, however, perhaps to see if anyone else was thinking the same thing as them. But their lack of speech, their lack of action, gave Arielle hope. They were still in their practiced manner as ladies of Belcourt. They would not speak unless spoken to. “But I am not a Vandenberg. I only became the High Priestess a few months ago. After the Vandenbergs killed the last High Priestess simply because she did not fulfill her duty. Yes, ladies, they killed their own.”

This time, the women uttered a sound. They gasped, their eyes widened. There was a gentle buzz. The children looked confused, growing restless.

“She was killed by Princess Esther, daughter of the queen,” Arielle continued, moving her head to sweep her gaze across the great hall. “And Belcourt is on the hunt for the princess as we speak. We are seeking justice for what they took away from us.” She waved her hand. “The Vandenbergs, all the High Priestesses before me, never understood all of you. They had their families to go home to after a day in Belcourt. However, that has changed because I am one of you. I was born and raised here because my father did not want me and because the queen killed my mother.” They looked at her, some with doubt in their eyes, others with empathy and understanding. “That is why I’m here today in flesh because I know what it feels like to be kept in the dark, to do only what I’m told without explanation. I decided to change that. You, all of you, are children of Belcourt. You deserve the truth.”

She stepped back and squared her shoulders, held her head high. “My name is Arielle. I am the bastard of the king. My mother was Elizabeth Blackwood.” This time, the buzz grew, the shock on their faces apparent. But the understanding slowly cleared the frowns of confusion. “Like all of you, I was an unwanted child. My father’s wife had my mother killed by Belcourt, thrown to Sinhold. She managed to do so because at that time, she was the High Priestess herself.”

This was her moment to show them that she was one of them. That they were all the same. “At this time, Belcourt is being attacked from all forces outside. The kingdom wants to ruin us because the queen wants to take control of us. The Royal Circus wants to destroy us because they desire for the previous king to return and they believe we are powerful enough to stop them. And we are threatened because we are indeed powerful. We are capable. But we are not united.” Silenced echoed in the hall as the woman stood frozen. “They managed to plant doubt amongst us. They took some of us and turned them against us. Sasha is not the only one. There are others as well and they may be among you now.”

The fear returned. She would erase that as well.

“We have all been used long enough to fight battles we are not even a part of. We have to stand on our own, but first, I want complete loyalty. Today, I give you a chance at freedom.” She looked around her again, at the women and the children. “Anyone of you who wishes to leave Belcourt can do so today. Leave without a Vow. And those of you who wish to fight for our home, and those who wish to see a better Belcourt, you are welcome to stay.” A sudden stir erupted. The ladies moved, they whispered. Some looked lost, others started crying. “But know, ladies, that if you choose to stay, you will still be bound by Belcourt laws and with that comes specific punishments. I will be different, but I will be as firm. I am, after all, reclaiming the only home I have ever known and I cannot have any traitors.” Arielle took a deep breath, then let it out. “The gate will remain open for you to walk out freely until midnight.”

---

The bells signaled the afternoon prayer in the abbey. The nuns’ quiet footsteps echoed down the halls. It had become a familiar sound now to Sheridan. She was not one who prayed, but these people were keeping her safe. Or at least that’s what Ruby told her.

They prayed for hours. She did not join them and they never forced her to. Prayers should be heartfelt, Mother Marissa said to her. The woman did not look physically appealing. Her small stature made her look frail—vulnerable. Her black hair had streaks of white that glistened whenever she moved. And she moved a lot. Restless, even. One could tell even as she walked that she was different from the rest. She openly laughed and spoke her mind too often than necessary. Her words were always good and comforting, always fun and sometimes even wicked. But one conversation could easily convince anyone that she was where she wanted to be.

The abbey welcomed them without question when they arrived five days after they left Coulway. The journey was long and the abbey could not be easily reached. One had to know where it was to find it. It sat at the foot of the mountain that separated the land from the sea, but they had to first cross the forest to get to it first. Mother Marissa was the first to talk to them and guide them to their rooms. It was not long before Sheridan realized who she was in Ruby’s life. She fussed over them like a mother would, scolding them at times as well. But she never asked Ruby.

Until one afternoon, as the nuns all filed into their prayer hall and the entire abbey became still and silent. They were in the garden, relishing the cold air from the forest nearby.

“She loves him,” Ruby said. Sheridan turned to her and found a weak smile on her lips. “He’s a priest.”

“You met him?”

“Of course. He lives in a parish nearby, although I do not think they meet in person.”

She blinked in disbelief and Ruby laughed. “You look horrified.”

“I never thought it’s possible.”

“That a nun and a priest can bear a child? Surely, Sherry, you know they are still humans. They have the same anatomy as everybody else.”

“No. I meant… How did you find them?”

Ruby shook her head. “I never did. They never lost me. They just placed me in Belcourt. They always visited me. Not together, of course, but one at a time. They would teach us prayers and about God once every month.” She motioned her head toward the main building of the abbey. “She told me in secret. And he told me in secret. It was our little secret, us three.”

“So you knew.”

She nodded. “And I understand.”

“Understand why they chose to give you up?”

A sad smile curled Ruby’s lips, the tiny mole under the corner of her left eye lifting slightly. “I understand their love.” Sheridan shook her head to convey her confusion. “Their love for each other, for me, and for their God.” She took a lungful of air and sighed. “And their love for Him is unconditional, Sherry. I understand that. I see it. Don’t you?”

She turned to the abbey. “No.” What she could see was a fanatic love for someone who may not exist, that they chose that love over their own child.

“They serve God not because they are selfish and wish to be saved in return. They are doing it out of pure love, not just for me, but for others as well. They spread His words and they do His deeds.”

She could not grasp what Ruby was trying to say. Maybe because she was too human, too selfish.

“They are mortals with mortal flesh. They committed a sin and have repented,” Ruby said, as if she heard Sheridan’s thoughts. “They only had that one night of weakness and I was the product of it. I like to believe I am the link to that love. I connect them to their human selves, remind them of their sin and also the love they cannot share.”

“That is an odd thing to say, Ruby.”

Ruby chuckled. “She rolls her eyes every time I say it and he only laughs in amusement. They are different in many ways. Makes one wonder why they were attracted to each other in the first place.” Her laughter died down. “But that’s how feelings go, doesn’t it? Most often, it sees no reason and relies on instinct.” She stole Sheridan a look. “Sadly, instincts are also vulnerable to faults.” She reached for Sheridan’s hand and squeezed. “I’m going back to Belcourt tomorrow.”

Sheridan stiffened. For three months, she had forgotten about Belcourt or Coulway. The abbey seemed so far away, a world of its own. It had been safe for them both. But she knew Ruby had been keeping correspondence in Belcourt. The letters kept coming. And they could not stay here forever. What would they do here? Be nuns who could not pray?

“After what happened with the ship three months ago, Belcourt has made some changes. They are willing to hear my story.”

“And what are you going to tell them?”

Ruby’s hand tightened around hers. “That I took care of you, of course. I manipulated you into thinking I’m saving you. And that you talked.”

The past three months flashed before Sheridan’s eyes. They had shared the same room every night and did nothing but talk through the wee hours. They did tasks Mother Marissa ordered them to, spent the mornings walking through the fields behind the abbey, the afternoons drinking tea with the nuns, and the evenings preparing dinner. Nothing extravagant or special. Normal.

And for people like them, normal was phenomenal.

“Will you be safe?” she asked.

Ruby nodded. “Of course. No one can fool Belcourt better than I.” But she did not look too convincing. Her smile wavered as she stared at Sheridan’s eyes. “I’ll have Robert Dior send for you once it is safe. I will have to see what the Circus can offer you.”

“I can talk to them on my own.”

“No. You stay here. You have done enough.”

“You do not know what I’m capable of, Ruby.”

“Sherry, you are only powerful because you own the Sutherland Post. Before that, you were naught but a pampered rich niece of a man Belcourt killed.” She did not take offense, but it still hurt her pride to be slapped with the truth. Suddenly, she felt lacking. Here was a woman who had a broader understanding of a peculiar love between the two people who gave her life. She had a different vision this stupid game between Belcourt, the Circus, and the kingdom. Her purpose was far more than revenge. It was never that. She was doing this because it was the right thing to do, and she was doing it with grace. Just like a true Belle. “I will be fine, Sherry.”

“How will you go back? Hire a carriage?”

Ruby’s charming smile widened. “No, of course not. I’m a Belle, Sherry. My gentleman will fetch me.”

---

Queen Helena Vandenberg Davercher looked just like her daughter. She did not smile as she walked down the giant halls of Calbridge. If she was not wearing her crown and royal gown, she could join a crowd and be no one. Escorting her was her son, the crown prince. The two of them together felt too tempting for Ellise. Two bullets. That’s all it would take to kick them out of the game, she thought from where she stood on the second landing, looking down at the scene below.

But killing the queen would not end Belcourt’s plans. Nor would it make things better for Reginald. She held no power inside Belcourt anymore. And she was not as powerful outside either. And that’s what they should play with—their weakness. Their greed for power.

“Will she agree?” she asked.

“She will have no choice,” Theodora Vandenberg said beside her, eyes following her sister.

XXIII | Sisters

Ruby frowned as she peered through the small window of the carriage. The Soldier beside her, who was tasked with escorting her through the gates, said, “They had been here for three days.” She stole the woman a look before returning her eyes to the crowd of people shouting, pumping their fists in the air. “Sheridan Garmont is still missing and they are all blaming Belcourt. They think we did something to her after she released incriminating articles against us.”

Ruby did not comment. The Soldier knew Sheridan was her mission. She yelped as the crowd pushed and slammed their palms against the carriage. “They are demanding that we free the women. But they had been freed.”

“Not all left. Majority still chose to remain,” the Soldier replied. “And these people think we should free everyone.”

“It was our choice to stay.”

The woman looked straight ahead, face hard and determined. “They refuse to believe that, of course.” The carriage driver picked up pace as the gates opened. Ten or so Soldiers were holding their bows and arrows, ready to defend should the crowd choose to force entry.

Ruby bent her head over the copy of the Sutherland Post in her hand. Sheridan still corresponded with her writers secretly, and they were not stopping. How long would it take for Belcourt to find out that she was still alive? And if they did, what would they do to Ruby?

---

The only good thing the articles by the Sutherland Post had ever brought Belcourt was the common agreement of everyone that the king was useless. He could not enforce his own power to free the women in Belcourt. Either that or he simply did not care.

If they did not have a spineless king, Arielle would have to deal with more trouble. For once, she was grateful to her father. The man was not capable of doing what the protesters outside wanted. He relied on his advisors, majority of whom were fearful of Belcourt.

However, she could not just sit quietly and wait for the protests to go away. These people wanted to free the women? They did not appreciate Belcourt when it opened its gates for those who wanted to leave? And what would they do for the ones who stayed should Belcourt bend to their wishes? Would they feed these women and children? Shelter them? Give them warm clothes? All from their own pockets? No, of course not. They would demand for more things from the kingdom to care for the people they freed from Belcourt’s clutches. They would abandon their moral mission and find more things to fight for. Who cared what happened to the women and children once they left Belcourt so long as they were free? It would not matter if they lived in the streets so long as it was not in their neighborhoods.

Arielle did not care what the people outside wanted. They did not know what would happen in the future. They just wanted something to be done now simply because they believe something wrong was being done. They could not see beyond the walls of Belcourt—the vast fields, the hospital, the warm beds and food. They did not understand that these things would be deprived from the women and children if they ever joined their society outside.

“Ruby has arrived, Your Highness,” an Elected announced.

Arielle stood and turned around to find Asa waiting for her in the doorway, head straight, but eyes cast downward. “The French soldiers are on their way and the House of Lords has agreed to welcome them into our ports,” she said to Asa. “I want the Court of Flowers to prepare the Belles. We need to have eyes within the French army before they could even step foot on Sutherland soil. Every high-ranking official has to have a Belle.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Asa said, walking just slightly behind her as the Elected led them down the marbled corridors of the Palace.

She smiled to herself. They had eyes everywhere, even the king. He was still looking for his daughter, and the queen was not even around. She was still in Calbridge to offer her condolences to the duchess. Knowing the woman, and with her desperation to regain the Vandenberg power in Belcourt, she may be planning something with Prince Emory. They should have known better not to leave the king alone.

The Circus had withdrawn to the shadows, perhaps making new plans. They had captured some of their Soldiers in the ship where Reginald was supposed to be. But what could Reginald do now? He did not hold any kind of power. His son was on the run with the daughter of his enemy. And they, too, shall be captured soon.

Everyone was slowly being eliminated. Once Napoleon and his men arrived, it would be a new era. A new beginning. Belcourt would be free at last.

No more Reginald. No more Luis.

---

Esther was uneasy. She should not be. Their hired carriage was finally approaching the large estate of the Earl of Ross. After their narrow escape from the men he tricked for a few gold coins, Leo had been acting different. He was more… silent. And he was not the quiet kind. In the last tavern they stayed at, he barely left their room for the duration of their three-day stay there. Once, she asked just how much he took from those men for him to afford their lodging. He said, “Enough, princess,” with a charming smile. Then he went back to reading.

And now, he was still reading. He was in the last pages when he closed the book and pocketed it, raising his head to prepare for arrival.

“Should you not check if we are welcome here?” she asked, apprehensive. She was itching to get into a proper bath, to have a large bed and decent food, but she could delay those for safety. And every fiber of her being was telling her something was not right in this estate.

“We will be welcome here. The butler knows me.”

“How?”

He just scoffed. His hair was longer, tied in a greasy bun at the nape. “Circus business, princess.”

Esther prepared to disembark as the hackney rounded the large driveway. When it stopped, her heart thudded faster. “This might be a trap,” she told him.

“No one would dare,” he said. “You should feel at home here. The earl is a Vandenberg,” he said, smile taunting.

She glared at him. “The traitor side of the family.”

He shrugged. “His twin was taken away from him. That’s good enough reason to betray the rest of the family.” He pushed the door open, paused, and looked at her. “Behave.”

She rolled her eyes. “The worst you can do is kill me.”

“I’m itching to, but I rather like your company. Remember, I still have my eyes on that proposal.”

She just arched her brow and waited for him to climb down. He did with a loud groan, as if he had been in pain the entire journey. She could not blame him because she was aching all over as well.

The giant doors opened before they could reach the top of the stairs, and an old butler bowed at Leo. When he said, “This way, Your Highness,” Leo turned to her with a smug look on his face. She scoffed, although the fact that he was still considered a prince by some did not really bother her. It was the way the door closed behind them that caused alarm. It sounded like it would be the last time she would ever see the outside world again.

Mayhap it was because she had been kept prisoner in a manor as big as this one in Calbridge that stepping inside brought back ugly feelings. If she had not trusted her brother or Tanner Macmier, she would not be here right now. She would not have been captured in the first place.

The weeks she spent on the run with Leo had been different. The feeling of urgency and survival played a big role. The rooms they stayed in were smaller than any chamber she had been her entire life that she felt somehow safe, knowing the corners were closer to each other and no one would have enough space to hide. But this manor was just like Calbridge. She could see the large hall, the giant staircase, and she could picture the hundreds of rooms on the next landing. Anyone could be hiding anywhere here. The doors were closed, and she had nowhere to run. She almost laughed when her eyes flew to the nearest window.

The butler was leading them somewhere, perhaps a parlor. She would be meeting her cousin soon, she thought.

But of course, it was not August Shaw, the Earl of Ross.

It was Tanner Macmier.

Her jaw hardened when the man stood, face impassive, far from the charming lover who tricked her into this mess. If Leo did not turn to block her view of the man, she would have crossed the distance between them and tried to murder him. The surge of anger was replaced by confusion when she transferred her gaze to Leo.

He was trying not to look guilty, but he was. His dark blue eyes could not look at her for long. At that moment, Esther knew she was trapped again.

“When we arrived in the first village we stayed in, I sent word to the Circus. We had been in correspondence since then.”

That’s why he was always away.

“Why?” she asked.

“We have a plan,” Leo said. “And you will not like it.”

Her eyes flew to Tanner. “Do I even have a choice?”

“No, but it would be good if you cooperate.”

She glared at Leo. “I have been cooperative since you first asked me to climb out a bloody window.”

He slowly nodded. “Soldiers are on their way here to take you to Belcourt.”

Her heart stopped for second, the room stilling around her, sending a ringing echo in her ears. “You bloody bastard.”

“Arielle is keen on meeting you, Esther,” Tanner said, stepping forward.

“Do not come near me, Tanner. You betrayed me.” She looked at Leo, then back at him. “Who are you working for?”

“None, but I am loyal to just one side,” Tanner said. “I gained your trust for one purpose—to solidify Arielle’s trust.”

Her eyes darted to Leo. “This was your plan.”

“Yes.”

“The attack in Calbridge?”

“I led Arielle to you in Calbridge,” Tanner said, “but she has to think it was not a plan. So you and Leo had to escape.”

“And now you are finally giving me to her?”

Leo cleared his throat. “Yes.”

Tanner spoke before she could erupt. “The Circus wishes to extend you an offer.”

“Let the Soldiers take you to Belcourt,” Leo added.

She looked at them incredulously. “Why?”

“Because you will let us in,” said another voice, this time a woman’s. Esther whirled around to find two people behind her. A woman with dark brown hair and bluish gray eyes and West Blackwood himself. Blackwood’s woman stepped forward. Esther had heard about her, how she had been a Belle who betrayed Blackwood, then betrayed Belcourt. And now she was back with the Circus. Maybe Tanner’s story had not been all false, she thought. If he had been telling the truth, Esther was facing the new Duchess of Eaton. Another Belle who got lucky. Just like her father’s former mistress, West Blackwood’s mother.

Arielle’s mother.

“I will die the moment those Soldiers get their hands on me,” she told them, eyes darting from Sasha to the rest and back. “I would rather let the Circus kill me now than die in the hands of my father’s bastard.”

“Arielle will not kill you,” Blackwood spoke for the first time. His voice was low and clear. Esther heard nothing that showed any emotion about what she just called his sister. “She needs you as leverage against the king.”

“We need your help,” said Leo, stepping closer. “There’s a reason she has not stopped looking for you. She needs you to get to the king. Or to get the king to her.”

She shook her head, denying their logic. “And why would I help you?” she demanded.

“Because we have your mother,” said West.

---

Patience was taught to them in the Court of Arms, but there was simply something about Rider Fairborne that pushed Gabrielle at the edge every time he came in to see her.

She was back in his estate in Keene. Not in the same hidden room they kept her before, but in a much nicer bedchamber. Of course, there were no windows. There was only one door, and that was being guarded by men all the time. The ceiling was too high, the room almost bare of anything she could use as a weapon. They gave her clothes and books to read. Her food was delivered on time.

A livestock waiting for slaughter, that’s what she felt like.

He was a tall man, his hair as dark as candle soot, his brown eyes calculative. She had no opinions of his looks, but she could tell that the Earl of Keene liked how she looked. He may never say it, but she could tell. She may not be a Belle, but she was a woman. Belcourt had warned them of men who would take advantage of them, but they did not warn them of men like Rider Fairborne. The ones who looked like they could be trusted. Ones who had conviction.

He strode into the room with sure steps and stopped with his hands behind him to stare at her. She did not know what he might bring with him every time he entered. Most days, he would reveal a book. The other day, he brought one elastic band for her hair. This time, it could be anything. A knife or pistol to kill her.

He never asked questions, never interrogated her. He just kept her in that room. And that was the most frustrating of all.

“You have a visitor,” he announced.

Her eyes darted to the doorway and she stood from where she sat by the dresser as her brother strode into the room. How long had it been since they saw each other? Since her last visit?

“Gabrielle,” August greeted with a warm smile, his pale green eyes slightly guilty. When she did not say a word, Rider Fairborne turned and stiffly walked out of the room without another word, leaving her alone with her brother.

“If you’re here to convince me to join your little group of traitors, August, I’m not in the mood,” she coldly said. “I can stay here forever and I will never join you.”

“Then what do you plan to do?” her brother asked, slowly walking closer. “You know the truth now, Gabrielle. You know what our family has been doing to these women and children.”

“You have no right to tell me what these women and children have been through, August. You were not there,” she snapped, looking him in the eye. “You do not know where they came from. Or what Belcourt has brought them. You did not live the life I did.”

“Yes, and neither should you,” he said, tone hard.

She scoffed. It did not matter what August thought now, or even then. Nothing would change the fact that she was the daughter their parents did not need in their little family. She was meant for something else and she was staying there. “If you are trying to convince me to resent the Vandenbergs, you do not have to. I hate them. But Belcourt is Belcourt. With a new High Priestess, it will still be Belcourt.” She would continue to protect the unwanted children of society.

August closed his eyes and helplessly sighed. Opening his eyes, he said, “I will not force you to join us. The Circus is not stupid to allow a Soldier to work with us.” He stepped closer. “We do not deem Belcourt as our enemy. We want to save it as much as you want to preserve it.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Because your current High Priestess is as crazy as the previous ones, that’s why.”

“She only wants the best for Belcourt.”

“Gabrielle, Leila was forcefully taken from our care by Arielle’s men.”

“Brought back to Belcourt, for certain, where she belongs.”

“She belongs with her mother’s family. They are still looking for her. She is not unwanted.”

“No. She is the—”

“You already know who the High Priestess is, Gabrielle. Reginald told you.”

“Arielle is merely acting as the regent.”

“No, she is the High Priestess. Just days ago, she opened Belcourt’s gates and let everyone who wishes to leave go.”

She stiffened. Rider Fairborne did not tell her that news.

“The women who walked out told us who gave them their freedom.” She blinked away from her brother, confused. “She let some women go, Gabrielle, but not the ones who we know would want to go out.”

“You mean the people who worked with you and still trapped inside? The ones who betrayed Belcourt?”

“The ones who have much to lose if they stayed in Belcourt, yes. A mother whose child is still waiting for her to this day and her other friends. They did not make it out of Belcourt.” This time, August walked closer. “We also want them out. We have to give them their chance.”

“Belcourt has its own laws we follow. If these women broke them, they deserve punishment.”

“Belcourt stands on Sutherland soil, sister. It should follow Sutherland laws.”

“No, you do not understand—”

“I understand well enough,” he interjected. “We can spend days and weeks arguing about this, but we do not have that at the moment.”

Gabrielle looked at her brother and shook her head. “You want something from me,” she concluded. “What is it?”

“Arielle has infiltrated the House of Lords. They opened the ports to welcome the French armies.”

“And you understandably do not want Napoleon to be king.”

“No, because Napoleon as king will mean war on our lands. He does not care for Sutherland, Gabrielle. He only cares for the people he can use to expand his empire. He will pluck out anyone who can hold a sword and send them offshore to fight for him.”

“And what do you want from me? Go back to Belcourt and convince Arielle to change her mind? Allow Reginald to regain power and destroy Belcourt just as he planned when he was in power? And do you think she will listen to me?”

“No, of course not. If she trusts you, she would not have ordered Nora to kill you.”

Her jaw tightened as she glared at her brother.

“Nora talked. She was given the order to kill you. After all, you are a Vandenberg. Arielle cannot have more Vandenbergs in Belcourt.”

Gabrielle shook her head. No, Arielle would not do that. But she knew Nora had kept things from her while they were on that ship. Did she really mean to kill Gabrielle?

“You were sent out of Belcourt for a reason, sister.”

“No,” she said, turning away.

The door opened. She did not hear him, but she knew Rider Fairborne was responsible for her brother’s next words. “I will give you more time to think,” August said behind her, followed by his departing footsteps.

And she was alone again.

To think. To wonder.

To choose a side.

XXIV | Complications

Ruby traversed the Village with hurried steps, head straight and without making eye contact with anyone she encountered, her visit to Arielle running in her mind.

“We hope your mission was as we hoped?” Arielle had asked.

“Yes, Your Highness. She did not realize what was coming for her.”

“How much did you pay the men?”

“Ten-thousand, Your Highness,” she had replied.

“You could have waited until we sent Soldiers.”

“There was no time. I was afraid she would disappear for good.”

The new High Priestess merely nodded, looking at her intently before breaking into a gentle smile. “You were gone quite long. We were afraid you were running away with her.”

“I would never do that, Your Highness. Belcourt is home, and it was always my intention to return. Please forgive me for taking such a long time. I had to gain her trust.”

“I understand.” The High Priestess then stood. “File your reports to Jade and go back to your villa and await your next mission.”

She had meant to go, but she could not help but say, “I was not able to learn what happened with the ship, Your Highness.”

Arielle’s face had gone tight. “We lost a few Soldiers, and others are still in captivity.”

“And Reginald?”

“Your Mistress will give you relevant information.” Arielle faced her, a smile still pasted on her lips. “How is Mother Marissa?”

The question sounded innocent, but Ruby knew better. “She is doing remarkably well, Your Highness.”

Arielle nodded. “Is she healthy?”

A chill tingled through her spine. “Yes.”

“I hope she visits us soon. She is a splendid mother, is she not?” By then, Ruby was stiff. “I mean, for the children.”

“Yes, of course, Your Highness.”

She knew her days were numbered the moment she walked out of the Palace. And now, as she stepped into the Tea House, she had a feeling this might be one of the last moments she would be in Belcourt.

The woman with dirty blond hair straightened in her chair as soon as she saw Ruby. Beside her was Shay, brown hair in disarray, as if she had been doing naught but cooking and cleaning all day. “Why are you still here?” Ruby asked under her breath, taking the seat across from Fatima.

“We were in the dungeon,” Fatima said, looking around. Of course, there were no marks on the woman’s skin, no sign of her suffering in the dungeon. “They found a copy of the article under my bed.”

Ruby turned to Shay. The woman nodded. “Likewise.”

“And Carrie?” she asked.

“She was able to go out,” Fatima said. “They never suspected her.”

A despondent smile crept up Shay’s lips. “But we hope she’s not going anywhere near Aliya or Mason.”

Ruby understood their fear. Arielle must have had her reasons for letting some women go, but graciousness was not one of them. “They may still be watching those who left.” She looked around the Tea House and smiled at Keisha as the woman served her tea. She waited until they were alone again. “I may not be able to come back into Belcourt for quite some time.” Or mayhap never . “Arielle is suspicious.”

“What about the Sutherland Post?”

“They are still doing their best, but it will not be enough to help us.” She clasped her hands together tightly. “Once I leave, I’ll find help.”

Fatima leaned closer. “The Circus?”

Ruby shook her head. “No… I don’t know. Maybe. I just know I can’t do nothing.”

---

Ellise’s eyes never left the queen, and the woman did not seem bothered by it. She looked nothing like her children. Her hair was black with streaks of white at the temples, her eyes also as dark as the dress she wore. But she had the same stature as Esther—petite and seemingly frail. They knew better, of course.

Beside her sat her sister, Theodora, who was older by five years. Side by side, no one would think they were related. What were the odds that Theodora could have been the queen, and Helena the one sent to Belcourt? Did they ever wonder? Growing up, did they ever think they could have had the fate of the other? Mayhap they did not and they merely accepted it, norm as it was in the Vandenberg family.

The carriage came to a stop and the queen remained still. She waited until the door was opened and Ellise and everyone was out before she did the same. As her feet landed on the ground, she looked up and threw Prince Emory, her son, a look. Was she disappointed that he decided to work with the Royal Circus? Her sister, too?

The doors swung open and the queen and Theodora were both ushered to the drawing room where Esther and the others were waiting. Ellise, however, stayed behind. Dior stopped beside her, frowning. “What is the matter?”

“Go on ahead. I need to talk to the other Royals.”

As soon as he entered the room, she made a sharp turn and hurried down a corridor, made a wrong turn, and eventually found herself outside in the garden. Looking around, Ellise quickened her pace and hid behind a bush. And she retched just before she threw up everything.

Her brother had warned her about this even before they left Herst months ago. She straightened and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Her mind had raced to many things when she first suspected it: denial, then self-blame. She threw her head back, hands on her hips, closing her eyes.

Bloody hell.

---

“What is the meaning of this?” Esther demanded, rushing toward her mother, stopping just at the exact distance allowed: two feet away and nothing less. “Mother.”

The queen tore her eyes off her and they landed on Leo. The tiny twitch of her brow was enough to show her repulsion. “I want to be alone with the princess.” When no one moved, her next word was spoken more sternly. “Now.”

The men were the first to file out of the room. Sasha, the Duchess of Eaton, lingered a little while, studying them, before she, too, quietly left, gently closing the door, as if to tell them it was their only way out and that they were not utterly alone.

“Tell me you have a plan,” Esther said under her breath. “Surely you do not mean for me to put myself in that place. Tell me you’re just playing them all.” She was desperate. Her mother was the most cunning woman she had ever known. There was always a reason for everything. “Tell me you are not working with these people.”

But the look on the queen’s face told her otherwise. And Esther shook her head. “No, please, I will not go there. Not alive!”

“Esther,” her mother said, voice bare of emotions as always. There was no tenderness where the queen was concerned. She was not that kind of mother. Not like Caroline’s who would fret over everything Caroline did. No, the queen was different. If she was ever worried about her daughter being abducted, she was not showing it now. She was not even asking how Esther was because it was obvious she was well and alive. And that’s why she was queen. That’s why Esther wanted to be like her. To show tenderness was to show weakness. And in their world, a woman could not be weak. “The best way we can regain control over Belcourt is if we infiltrate it again.”

“You are the queen. You can do something about that bloody, useless place! Burn it down! I don’t care!”

“Stop being stupid.”

Her mouth shut tightly, a reflex reaction to those words she had heard too many times before. “She’ll kill me.”

“Not if she wants your father’s attention.” Her mother stepped forward. “That’s all she wants. It’s petty, but she’s just like everyone else in Belcourt. She wants recognition from the person who gave her life.”

Esther understood her mother’s words too well. Was that not what she thrived for all her life? To be acknowledged?

“She has more to lose if she kills you. It would be Belcourt’s end if the kingdom is forced to take action and overtake the institution. As Vandenbergs, we do not want that to happen as well because Belcourt is our kingdom .”

“Then what do you want me to do? Be like the other Vandenberg children you throw inside that place? Go to the gates and open them for the Royal Circus who has all the reasons to see our downfall?”

“No, of course not.” The queen’s voice was lower now, almost a whisper. At that moment, a tiny glimmer of hope sparked within her. This was the moment her mother would tell her of her plan. And by the way her mother stepped closer to whisper in her ear, her faith was restored. Indeed, Queen Helena always had a plan.

---

“Is everything all right?” Robert asked Ellise when she joined them outside the drawing room. “You look unwell.”

“I’m fine,” she lied, catching Sasha’s gaze. Merely a month ago, the duchess gave birth to a son. Yet now here she was, working with her husband. Their son was being guarded together with Reginald in an undisclosed location only the Royal Master and Darcy knew.

Sasha walked toward her. “May I have a word?”

They both turned. Sasha led her back out into the garden, pace slow. “How are your symptoms?” Sasha asked.

Ellise’s jaw tightened. “Getting worse.”

“But you’re almost certain now?”

“Unless I have a disease in the stomach, then yes.”

Sasha nodded. “It will not be easy.”

“It’s a complication.”

The woman merely smiled. “If you see it that way.” They stopped in front of the fountain. “Ellise, whatever happens, your child will have to come first.”

She read so much in those words and in the woman’s eyes. An orphan who spent most of her life with fellow unwanted children. That’s what Sasha was. She was not talking about being a mother. She was talking about being a child—an unwanted complication .

“Have you told him?”

“No.”

“Do you plan to tell him?”

“In due time. Once I’m very certain.”

Sasha nodded. “We have lost many lives in this game, Ellise. I do not want you to lose more.”

“Precisely why I have to stay as Darcy. I will not want any of those lives to mean nothing if we don’t succeed.” Sasha looked at her for a long time, face gentle, knowing. “What?”

“Do you blame yourself for what happened?”

“We planned this together, you and I. I blame us both.”

The lady smiled. “Of course.”

“And if we fail, it will be our fault.”

“Your success is different from mine, Ellise. Mine is seeing Belcourt free from the Vandenbergs and Arielle, from the people who control them. Yours is to place Reginald back on the throne. My husband’s is likewise dreaming of a different success and that’s to see none of the French soldiers step foot on Sutherland soil.”

“Yet all our visions of success bind us all. We have to work together to realize them.”

Sasha shrugged. “I can always find other ways to help Belcourt be free. I don’t have to put Reginald on the throne.”

“I know you are not fond of the man, Sasha. But he is the better king and he will make your mission far easier.”

“Perhaps. I do not hate the idea of putting him back on the throne.”

“You hate the fact that we are going to do to Louis what he did to Reginald.”

“Greed is a cycle, isn’t it? You take mine, I take yours. And you take more. And I more.”

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“About Reginald, I always have second thoughts. About the queen, I have more.”

“So do I.”

“I always told you, Sasha, that this is not a good plan. We know Esther will attempt to overtake Arielle within Belcourt. Theodora still has Soldiers inside who may support her. The queen, as former High Priestess, has more. Esther will not go out of Belcourt, much more so help us get in.”

“Not if we can make Esther do what we need her to do. If she has a reason to be afraid to stay in Belcourt, she will want to get out. And if she wants to get out, she will need to let us in and help her because her mother won’t.”

“What do we need then?” she asked. “Or who?”

Sasha looked her in the eye. “The very woman she betrayed.”

Ellise nodded, the gears inside her head turning. “I’ll give Trent his new mission.”

XXV | For Freedom

They told her she had to act hysterical when the Soldiers came for her. At the moment, her mother was with her brother in one of the hundreds of chambers in the large estate of Ross. The master of the manor was not here, probably out on a mission for the Royal Circus. Everyone else was somewhere, waiting for the time when Tanner Macmier greeted his lover from Belcourt to surrender the other.

Her anger at the man was beyond comprehension. She had no feelings for the man. He was not important. He was not a loss. But she was furious. Not because she felt betrayed, but because he managed to fool her. She had not seen it happen. All the while, she thought she had him around her fingers. The only light she could see in all of this was that Arielle was also a victim of Tanner Macmier. She did not consider the woman her sister, but they had something in common. They were not as wise as they thought they were.

She sat motionless in a chair inside the bedchamber they placed her in. She probably had a few hours to spare, maybe less. The lights were off, the room only lit by the scant amount of moonlight. She looked at the windows, knew she could try to escape, but this was her fate. Because her mother said so. And they had a plan.

The door to her room opened and by the sound of the heavy footsteps, she knew who entered the room. For weeks, she had grown accustomed to his sounds—how he snored, how he murmured in his sleep, his stupid smacking of his thigh whenever he silently laughed, his footsteps whenever he was anxious or excited. And tonight, his footsteps told her he was calm, maybe a little apprehensive, as if he stole a piece of her meat pie again.

“If you’re here to talk me into being a little more cooperative, I don’t need it. With my mother under your control and with my stupid brother working with you, I’m left with no choice.”

“Are you not hopeful your father will attempt to rescue you?”

She scoffed. “The king is naught but a puppet for the House of Lords. I would not be surprised if he is not yet made aware of our disappearance.” She turned her head to the right as he settled beside the chair, hands in the pockets of his trousers. He was looking down at her with a gentle smile on his lips. “Someday, I’ll kill you,” she said, but it only elicited a soft laugh from Leo.

He took a lungful of air and sighed. “I figured you will be angry at me.”

“I’m more than that.”

He nodded. A silence fell between them. The wind rustled the trees surrounding the back of the manor. It was he who broke the silence in the room. “We are both the same, you see. Trapped in all of this simply because we were born into it.”

Esther did not address the statement because somehow, she agreed. It made her wonder what her life would be if she was born into a different family, one that did not play the game of power and greed, one whose sole concern was to get everybody married to the best candidate. What would her life be if she was just like the other girls who were dragged around in balls to dance and flirt with gentlemen? Or maybe she could be a daughter of a servant. What if she was a barmaid? A farmer? She would not have to face this humongous task of getting into a place filled with women who could manipulate an entire kingdom. Maybe she would be married by now, have kids of her own.

“If you do not wish to do this, I can help you,” Leo said. “We can disappear.” She would have laughed at him, but she did not because he sounded like he meant it. It was almost as if he wanted her to say yes.

“What—climb out a window?” She could not help but smile when he chuckled.

“We may have to do that again, yes.”

“And where would we go?”

He shrugged. “Anywhere we want. We can catch the next ship out of Sutherland.”

“And go to London?”

“No, I hate the weather there. We can go to the orient.”

“I have not been there.”

“I will show you the desert, we can stay in an oasis and bathe in the sun for days.”

“I do not like the sun.”

“Then we can go to somewhere with more trees. A cabin in the mountains.”

She looked at him curiously. “And you have been to such places?”

“Of course. And more. I’ve traveled with different people of different colors.”

“I thought you were housed in a villa with guards to protect you.”

“Why? Because my father is on the run?” he incredulously asked. “Of course not. He threw me away just as fast as he escaped Sutherland.”

“And you expect me to believe that?”

“He may have been a great king, but he was not a brilliant father. He still is not.”

For a moment, a different kind of silent understanding passed between them. A knowledge of each other’s life by simply remembering their own. She could count the times she had been in the presence of the king, her father, the conversations they had, and the brief moments they spent alone together. Her birthdays were grand, but they were all for show. The gifts she received were not picked by him but by his advisors.

She blinked away from Leo and said, “I am my mother’s daughter. I am a Vandenberg.” She swallowed and moistened her lips, letting go of the adventure he placed in her head. It was too farfetched, too silly. “And Belcourt is ours.”

“Do you think you can take it back?”

She did not reply. She knew that the Circus would think that. Having played a game with them for this short a time told her they were not an easy opponent as she first believed. Her mother had told her so just earlier.

“They will know we’ll be planning something,” the queen had said. “However, we’ll succeed if you can fool Arielle.”

---

Ellise and Dior watched the two carriages filled with Soldiers drive away from the silent manor. Earlier, the place reverberated with Esther’s screams for help. She was a good actress, Ellise thought. But how good? How will she survive Belcourt?

“Sasha believes she’ll let us in.”

“If she wants to overthrow Arielle, she has to,” Dior replied.

“Not if she kills her first.”

He shook his head. “Arielle is not a fool. She’s the new High Priestess. Esther will soon realize she will need the Circus.”

She sighed. “If we just storm the place, this would be all be over in one night.”

“We can’t have bloodshed.”

She walked to the side of the window and leaned against the wall, facing Dior. “I’m pregnant.”

Many times, she had imagined how he would react if she finally told him, but never had she once thought about what she may feel while doing so. He looked surprised, of course. Yet, he looked calm as he faced her. She, however, felt her heart race to her throat. There were too many things happening within her all the at the same time and she could hardly keep up. She was not used to feeling so many things at once. Always, if she could help it, she only allowed one or two emotions at a time. That’s how she processed things. She could willfully shut down everything if she needed her logic. But now, she was anxious and worried, excited and hopeful. Also, she was relieved because she was finally free of the little secret.

“Oh,” was all he could utter at first. Just as she imagined.

“Yes, I know,” she said, moistening her lips. “I will keep it.”

“Of course we are,” he said. “There is a high chance you will get complications and die if you decide to get rid of it.”

“I know. But I want to keep it because it’s mine.”

“It’s ours, Elle,” he said, stepping closer, bending low to catch her eyes. “Were you afraid I would not want it?”

She nodded. “At least not at this point.”

A grin slowly curled his lips.

“What is so funny?”

“I can only imagine your surprise when you found out.”

“It was haunting,” she admitted.

The kiss he planted on her mouth was lingering and sweet. She frowned. “You will not start acting like a besotted fool, are you?”

“Of course not,” he said. “I’m simply grateful.” He took her hand in his and squeezed. “We have lost lives, Elle. We now have more reasons not to lose more.”

A smile twitched her lips. “We have to keep this a secret for now.”

“Whatever you wish.”

“My brother will chain me inside a closed chamber if he finds out.”

“My mother will offer the basement in Calbridge.”

She chuckled and leaned her forehead on his chest. It was rare to get a moment of peace nowadays. Their days were always spent traveling and making plans, of coming up with strategies on how to outwit their opponents. An endless mind game with no physical battle. It was exhausting, even for her.

“Are you tired?” he murmured above her.

She nodded and in one gentle motion, she was in his arms and he was carrying her to the bed. Her eyes closed the moment she hit the mattress. A part of her thought back to the many months before she became Darcy. Those days when she just rode her horse to the cabin in the woods in Herst to spend the day hunting. When it was just her and no one else.

Now, there was too much at stake. She did not just have herself in her care, but groups of men who were willing to sacrifice their lives for a dethroned king. And the women in Belcourt. The children there. And her child.

Her mother once told her that the moment she learned she was carrying another life, that’s the moment she would realize that her life is no longer her own. “It’s going to be scary,” Natalia St. Vincent had said.

Ellise agreed because now, most days, she was frightened.

---

By now, Esther was used to traveling. But this time around, she knew where she was going. It took days to arrive in Belcourt. And she knew when they arrived that they did. She was blindfolded, but she heard the shouts outside the carriage. People. Actual people of Sutherland screaming to free the women of Belcourt. They were demanding for something they thought was right. But what was right? Giving the women their freedom and throwing them back into a world she knew was worse than the one the Vandenbergs had created? Would giving the women their freedom just simply because the moral compass of those who fought for it were justified?

And what of the women inside? What was freedom for them? Was in living in Belcourt and serving their High Priestess? Or was it living outside and serving the king? What if they chose to stay because that’s their freedom?

She had read in the Sutherland Post that Arielle had given the women the liberty to leave if they chose to. So why were these people out here wanting more?

She heard the gates open, then close. Soon, the screams outside were drowned by the sounds of wheels against gravel. Birds. Trees. Then, children—playing and laughing. Running. Their voices also soon disappeared as the carriage traveled further away.

None in the carriage spoke, and it was as if she was alone. But she knew she was not. Arielle could be sitting across from her. Or it may be another Soldier. But Arielle, if she ever personally took Esther here, seemed to not want to confront her yet.

They traveled for a few more minutes in silence. She was finally here. The place where her mother once ruled. Her brother ruled. And now she would rule. It was her fate. If she could get to Arielle.

Oh, to have her own place. To exercise her own freedom. It would be a dream.

They took her out of the carriage and into a place she knew had marble floors. She knew what marble floors felt like under her feet. Was it the Palace? It must be. The hands that guided her in every turn were silent, talking to her through their grip.

It was a relief when she eventually heard a door swing open. They were not taking her to the dungeon, which would have been terrible. She was ushered into a room. And then left there without a word.

She knew she was alone the moment the door closed and the lock echoed. Her hand freed her from her blindfold and she blinked a few times to adjust to the light. And it was bright. There were windows when she thought there would be none. But this time, she knew better than to climb out of them because as she found out walking toward one, she was in a tower.

A princess in a tower.

Only in fairytales? No, of course not, Esther thought wryly.

“There’s no way out.” Esther jumped in surprise, whirling around to find the owner of the small voice.

The room was large and elegant. The red damask walls were pristinely well-kept, the wood panels running vertically and continuing across the ceiling were polished to perfection, and the marble floors were just as perfect, reflecting the walls and the ceiling.

There were two large beds with white sheer drapes in all corners. One was empty, the other occupied.

“I’m Leila,” the girl said, face unreadable as she studied Esther. “Are you Esther?”

XXVI | Belles and Soldiers

Esther stared at the child in silence. She had Albert’s eyes and hair. There was more of Leila that reminded Esther of her brother, pride and stubbornness among them. They may be siblings, but she did not practically grow up together with Albert. As the crown prince, he was raised differently. And as a woman, she was mostly separated from his trainings, including Emory’s. It was only when they were older and had little more freedom that they reunited as brothers and sister who wanted fun with people their age. But even when they did, Albert was always busy. More particularly when he took over as High Priestess. He also hid many secrets. Apparently, this child was one of them.

“You were born here?” she asked Leila.

Leila shook her head. “I was saved from a sinking ship,” she said, blue eyes studying her carefully. She tilted her head to the left. “Do you know Arielle hates you?”

Esther smiled. “Of course, she does. The feeling is mutual.”

Leila turned away, walked to the window, and looked down. “I think she intends to kill us.”

The hairs on her arms stood. To hear a child as young as Leila talk about murder was surreal. When she was her age, Esther thought naught of anything but dreams of being free so she could escape her guards and party with Caroline and their friends.

“Not if we let her.”

The child turned to her, face unreadable, sending another chill up Esther’s spine. She could not be afraid of this child! She was small and powerless, believing a false power that was stripped from her. Like everyone else in Belcourt, Leila believed a lie. She must think she was amidst a war between her and a traitor and conqueror and she was supposed to be its princess savior, or the princess the people would fight for. “Are you thinking that we should work together?”

Esther shrugged. Leila walked to one corner of the room where her doll house stood.

“If we work together and succeed, you will only do the same as Arielle. You will lock me here because I’m your brother’s bastard. Just like your mother did to Arielle because she’s your father’s bastard.”

“Or we can negotiate. You can think about it for a day or two,” she said with a smile, finally moving to kneel before the doll house. They stared at the little rooms inside. “They never open the door fully, do they?”

“No,” Leila replied. “The only time they did was when they took you in.” Esther knew that. For one week, the Soldiers only opened the smaller door at the foot of the main door to deliver them food. The buckets for their bath were also delivered in the same manner. Their wastes were deposited in a bucket and placed at the same door to be collected when their food arrived.

She reached out to drag a miniature bed to the door. “If they can’t open the smaller door, it will force them to open the larger door.”

Leila looked over her shoulder at their beds, then at her. “You are crazy. They’ll kill us.”

“You’re right,” she said, feigning ignorance. She returned the miniature bed against the wall. Looking at their actual door and the smaller door at the bottom, Esther murmured, “It’s too big for me.”

Leila’s eyes followed hers. And as she hoped, the child understood what she meant. “You’re suggesting I squeeze myself through that door.” When Esther only remained mysteriously quiet, Leila frowned. “It’s impossible. It locks from the outside.”

Esther’s eyes inspected the larger door. And then she smiled. “You’re right,” she said. Smiling, a genuine idea coming to her. “Locks are complications, aren’t they? But if we can’t make them work, we can work around them.” She stood and walked over to the wall beside the door. “Or we can walk through them.”

---

Ruby found that she was not so free outside Belcourt anymore. Her maids were replaced which meant her every move was being watched. But one night, as she stayed up alone in the parlor by the fire, reading a book, she found a familiar face outside the window. With a frown, she walked out into the hall and rushed to the front doors. Slipping out, she found the woman standing at the foot of the driveway.

She looked unkempt, as if it had been weeks since she met a bath. The woman was one of the maids she frequently encountered in the Village back in Belcourt. She was amongst those who left Belcourt months ago.

“My lady,” the woman said, eyes filled with self-pity. “If it’s not too much to ask, I would like to get your help.”

Ruby frowned and looked around. The street was empty and freezing. “Would you like to come in?” she asked. “It’s cold out here.”

Whatever pride left of the woman was no longer apparent as she eagerly nodded. Moments later, Ruby watched her gobble the bread and tea, barely looking up to take a breath. When her plate was empty, Ruby offered more food, which she accepted without shame. It took another serving before the woman’s pace slowed and she finished her food with the practiced grace of a Belcourt lady.

Shame, even for this woman, came after. She could not look Ruby in the eyes as she wiped her hands on her skirts, eyes filled with guilt as she stared at her empty plate.

“What help do you need?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“I…” The lady looked around Ruby’s pristine kitchen. “I left Belcourt filled with hope, but it’s not… It has not been easy, my lady.” Ruby could only stare. What was she to say? The offer to leave Belcourt must have been very tempting for them, most particularly the women in the Village. They had been doing nothing but serve everyone but themselves. And when they did the latter, they were met with disappointments because out here, serving yourself depended on how much money you had. “I have not found any employment,” the woman sobbed. “The moment they learn I’m from Belcourt, they turn me away.” Her eyes were filled with tears when she finally looked into Ruby’s. “They all think I’m out to get their husbands and sons, that I’m… I’m a wench.”

“Katie,” Ruby gently said, “you know I can’t offer you employment. I have my own servants.”

Katie sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I know, my lady. The other Belles said the same thing. Their servants… well, they hate us. They say I should have known better before I left Belcourt.” She let out a shaky breath. “That we’ll always be unwanted.”

Ruby quietly stood. She grabbed a basket and began to fill it with food as she asked Katie where she was staying.

“At an abandoned house she found with other ladies from Belcourt.”

“Some of us are sick, my lady,” Katie said. “Fall is coming soon and I’m afraid we won’t make it until winter. We do our best. Those who found work try to feed us,” she added, stealing a glance at her empty plate again. The guilt in her eyes almost crushed Ruby’s heart. No one should ever feel guilty over satisfying a basic need.

She added more bread into the basket. Then she stilled, closing her eyes to fight the tears before she covered the basket with a clean cloth and turned to face Katie. “I’m sorry, Katie, but this is all I can do.”

The woman’s eyes went to the basket, and her shoulders fell. But she nodded anyway. “I understand, my lady. It was our choice to leave.”

At the corner of her eye, Ruby could see a shadow outside the kitchen doorway. Her maid was spying on her again. She carried the basket to Katie and told the woman she could not stay long or she would be in trouble. The shadow disappeared before she guided Katie back into the hall and to the door. Once outside, Ruby hastily whispered, “I’ll try to find help.”

The woman nodded, but it was clear that she had little hope. How many Belles had she approached for help? How many had given her promises and forgot about them?

Ruby still had those questions and more the next day when she greeted her flower, Aaron Stanway, Earl of Emsworth, her friend and confidante. Also enemy. With his blond hair and charming smile, he could light up a room. And he did that afternoon of his visit. She gave him a hug and a peck because she genuinely missed him. He had the power to make her forget the realities of Belcourt and take her into a world void of spying and politics and drama.

But his father was loyal to the kingdom. And he was loyal to his father. They were members of the House of Lords, and they were also amongst the larger group who blindly followed Belcourt and the Vandenbergs. Aaron often joked about ruling the kingdom with the other lords because the king could not do so. “He’s a puppet, love,” he would say.

“Ah, I missed you, my dearest Ruby,” Aaron said, dropping in the chaise with a sigh. He loosened his cravat, smiling at her. “I’m here to take you away for a week of torment. I hope you won’t mind.”

The maid walked in with fresh tea as Ruby asked, “Hmm. Torment. Which one?”

“My father, of course.”

Ruby smiled. She had hoped he would invite her. Perfect. “Oh, I would love to be tormented.”

“By the by, I saw Summer three days ago. She was with one of her former flowers—and I say former because Ridgemonton is no longer a flower after Summer left Belcourt.”

“And how is Summer fairing?”

“Fits right into society like the Belle that she is.”

“Was,” she corrected. She was not surprised Summer left. The lady knew she could survive the outside world, and she proving that to be true.

“Well, she is still a Belle in the eyes of many,” Aaron said with a shrug. “Now that we have my father’s ball out of the way, why don’t we talk about other things? I’ve been down lately, what with some of my favorite friends leaving Belcourt, Belles and flowers combined.”

And so they talked about books, the play he recently saw without her, the friends he hated, and his plans to find a wife. They were never sexual. Aaron always respected her as a lady and a friend. And most days, Ruby did, too. But unlike before, with him siding with Arielle and working behind the king’s back for the French, Ruby had to make her dearest friend her foe.

By the time Aaron left, a Soldier arrived as if she had been waiting for him to leave all this time.

“Your Mistress sent you a new mission,” the Soldier said with a smile, eyes flicking toward the table with the empty teacups and crumbs of biscuits. Satisfied to find nothing suspicious, she added, “We heard that a deserter came by to ask for your help.”

Deserter . Someone who failed to uphold an obligation, one who abandoned home. Was that what Belcourt called those who wanted freedom?

Ruby felt the chill travel through her spine and down her arms. “Yes.”

The Soldier nodded. “Gather all the other deserters you can find. Find out where they’re staying and report to us immediately.”

Ruby frowned. “Why?”

Annoyance flashed the Soldier’s face. “You can’t question why. Just do it.”

---

Gabrielle had not seen Rider Fairborne in weeks. She spent that time to think about her situation and what her brother said to her. It was inconceivable to think about working with the Royal Circus. But so was the thought of working for the Vandenbergs who were just like the other monsters who left their children outside Belcourt’s gates.

For years, she had always believed she was meant to be in Belcourt. When her parents came for a visit in the Common Court and explained that her purpose was to protect their family by staying inside, she believed them. It seemed pathetic now that she once pitied her brother for growing up with no one to play with while she was surrounded by children her age, with a Mistress who showered them love and care. She grew up thinking that parents were just… they just bear you into the world.

Unlike the other children in Belcourt, she was not an orphan, her parents said. She was… purpose. By staying, by serving the High Priestess, she was saving Belcourt and its children. That’s her purpose. To serve. To protect.

But the truth found the opportunity to sneak in, to awaken questions that she ignored for years because they did not fit in her purpose.

Or the answers scared her.

Lead her astray.

Betray Belcourt, the children who were abandoned, the women who were unwanted.

She was absently looking at nothing, thinking of naught but her fate, her purpose, when the door opened and Rider Fairborne walked in. All glory and pride. He did not smile, nor asked how she was doing. He simply stepped aside to let Ellise St. Vincent into the room.

Gabrielle never knew the woman could be a problem when she first knew of her. How wrong she had been. The woman reverberated power. One that did not move mountains, but one that could send an avalanche down one and ruin the villages at its feet.

“Hello, Gabrielle,” Ellise St. Vincent greeted with a stoic face. “I’m here to take you away.”

Surprised, Gabrielle frowned. Her eyes flew to Rider Fairborne. “Take me where?”

This time, he spoke. “A ball.”

XXVII | Summer

“I know understand why we have to do this,” Prince Emory said, staring straight into West’s eyes. Sasha sat quietly in one corner of the room where a woman should be during conversations between men.

“I do,” said West with a smile. His leg was crossed over the other, both arms resting on his chair. The prince mirrored him, smiling equally.

“My aunt is quite adamant about getting her daughter back.”

“Of course,” West said. “As we are about getting both Royals back.”

“Fret not, they are in safe hands.” Prince Emory threw Sasha a glance, then just as quickly ignored her presence.

“You did not have to resort to this,” West said. “We would have gladly handed Gabrielle Shaw.”

“It was not my idea,” Emory said, but Sasha did not believe him. The prince was wise. But he was also desperate. A man clinging on to his father’s power so he could one day have it. He wanted to show the Circus what he could do. However, it was not clear how much control the queen had over him.

“We’re hoping for a pleasant exchange,” said West, standing to his feet. The prince did the same. West bowed.

Emory noted the reluctant bow and chuckled, shaking his head. “I would hate to be your enemy when the time comes, Blackwood.”

“I fear the same, Your Highness.”

With his impending departure, the prince’s stiff posture loosened. He took a deep breath and let out a long breath. “Is there a chance that you will surrender Reginald?”

West smiled. “Is there a chance your father will step down?”

At this, Emory laughed loudly. “There is, but you and I both know the power is not with him. It’s on the other side of the family.”

“We understand.”

“I hope Leo will someday be gracious enough and join us. I would love to meet him.”

“He’s currently occupied.”

“A pity,” Emory said, clucking his tongue. “I heard he wants to marry my sister.”

“It’s a joke to spite his father.”

“A joke I would consider,” Emory replied. “Perhaps what we need is a union.”

Sasha stood as the two men walked to the doors.

“Congratulations on your child,” said Emory. “I heard you have an heir.”

“We do, yes,” West said.

“Good for you. Keep him well, Blackwood.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Depends on how you see it.” Emory stopped at the threshold of the doorway. His guards, all five of them, were outside. “Please deliver Gabrielle Shaw safe and sound and you shall have your Royals back.”

The moment Emory left, Sasha approached her husband, and they both walked out the doors to the garden. He took her hand as they strolled down the familiar path walk.

“I know you don’t want to give up on Gabrielle,” he said, kissing the back of her hand. “But I agree with Darcy.”

“That Gabrielle is a useless piece?”

He chuckled. “I would not put it that way, but Darcy’s argument makes sense.”

“Better to give up one useless piece for the two we can use—of course, her argument is sound,” she said with a shake of her head. “What did Shaw think?”

“He’s still hoping his sister will make the right choice. Otherwise, he knows that his family will take care of his sister better than they would Worthington and Berthon.”

“We should definitely get Worthington back. His sister has written us a rather long threat.”

He kissed her temple. “Of course.”

“And we need to move Reginald. He’s getting bored.”

“Leo will join him. I’m certain his boredom shall end soon.”

“Don’t give me a nightmare, darling. Not while I’m awake.”

West laughed. Sasha smiled, half of her thinking about Gabrielle and the choice she would make.

---

“Why do you have to make it difficult?” Ellise asked.

They had reached Greene’s estate and were preparing to cross to Islefield. All the while, Gabrielle had been very uncooperative.

Not getting an answer, Ellise pointed at the dress on the bed. “That’s just a dress. You put it on and you are still the same person.”

The woman stared her up and down with raised brows. “I don’t see you in one.”

“That’s because I am not yet in one,” she said. “Put on the dress.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll have Fairborne do it for you.”

Gabrielle’s jaw tightened. Ellise smiled and stepped back. “I’ll be back in half an hour. By then, I hope we shall both be in a dress.”

Thirty minutes later, Robert and Rider stood silently on the threshold of the room while the two women, one dressed in a green dress, the other in blue, stared at each other. It was the oddest encounter they had to witness. Both women looked utterly uncomfortable.

“Now that we are off to a good start, may I proceed in relaying our plans?” Ellise asked.

Gabrielle may have been stripped of her shirt and breeches, but not her pride. She kept her silence.

“You will join us in Islefield where your family is waiting.”

Robert did not expect Gabrielle’s reaction. He expected her to be surprised, yes, but he did not expect the flash of panic that crossed her eyes.

“Why would you hand me over to them?” Gabrielle asked.

“Because they have two of our own. Quite clever of them, actually. Don’t you agree?” Gabrielle did not answer. “But,” Ellise said, pausing at the word until Gabrielle met her gaze, “if you do not wish to join them, I have another plan.”

Gabrielle scoffed. “What makes you think I will not join them?”

Ellise shrugged. “For one, the Vandenbergs are out to get Belcourt.”

“So are you.”

“Well, no longer. The Royal Circus and your family have reached a temporary truce. We are not to intrude in their plans to reclaim Belcourt from Arielle and we, the Circus, will stop Napoleon’s army from setting foot on Sutherland.”

“You will stop the French so Reginald can return to power.”

“That’s what Reginald wants, yes. But that does not mean the Royal Circus has to agree. Unlike the women of Belcourt, we get to vote on things.”

“But don’t you serve the true king of this kingdom, as you call him?”

“Of course. But there are two of them, you see. Reginald is one, and the other is his heir. Leo wants something else, and he won the vote of the majority.”

What Ellise said was true. Leo wanted something else. It was preposterous, but it made sense. At this point, priorities had shifted, much to Reginald’s disappointment. He wanted to return to the throne as soon as possible, but as soon as possible was not possible. There were too many factions, most of whom favoring the French because of Belcourt. The Vandenbergs and the Royal Circus were the minorities now.

It was no longer important what Reginald wanted. “It’s just his ego,” Leo had told them. “Or he might be senile. Why should we blindly follow him?” And he told them of his plans for the future. Once the Vandenbergs got Belcourt and once Napoleon was no longer a threat. “But first, I need to talk to the old man. Get his blessings, you know. And I have to first explain about the voting. I’m afraid he doesn’t know how it works and he should honor it, king or not,” he added before he left to join his father.

And so here they were, making a different deal with Gabrielle Shaw.

“Well? Do you want to hear my other plan?” Ellise asked.

“Do I have a choice?” Gabrielle gritted out.

“That’s the point, Gabrielle,” Ellise said. “I’m giving you a choice.”

“And what are my choices?”

“One, as I’ve said, is you join your family. We get our Royals, your family gets you back.” Ellise stepped closer. “The other choice requires you to join us.”

“You’re crazy.”

“You’ll understand my reason once you hear me out.” Gabrielle waited, jaw clenching. “We have a ship full of Soldiers. The ones we captured before you reached Sutherland.” At this, Gabrielle’s face softened. “We need someone who can make them believe they’re being saved, and then use them to scare away a ship full of French soldiers. And once that’s done, you can join whoever you wish. Go back to your family or go home to Belcourt with the rest of the Soldiers on that ship. Just one mission for the Circus, that’s all.” A tense silence followed.

“Don’t you have enough men to deal with the French?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have enough who can fight. Think about it. We’ll deliver you to the Vandenbergs as promised to get our Royals. We’ll leave on the second day. If you wish to join us, be there before midnight.”

---

It was easy. All it took was hours of chipping the edges of one brick with the end of their spoons and forks. They worked between meals, after they quickly ate their meals (and sometimes during) and before the Servants would take their empty plates again. Just one brick and then it became easier.

One, two, three bricks. Five… ten. Until it the hole was big enough for Leila to squeeze out of. The brick wall, as Esther hoped, led into a dark cupboard and the cupboard led straight into the hallway.

It was too easy, they both thought, that it made them suspicious. What if someone was waiting somewhere, expecting exactly for something like this to happen?

But they needed to take the risk, Esther had said. If they wanted to get out of there, they had to. And so Leila, after the third night of planning, squeezed herself through the hole and sneaked into the empty hallway.

Not a soul was in sight.

She knew where the tower was and where Esther wanted her to go. The Village, she said. Leave a message for a certain Servant, she said.

Leila headed down the stairs, but she did not take the direction that would lead her out of the Palace. With hurried, muted steps, she took the series of corridors she knew would be empty in this hour of the night. Until she emerged into the marbled hallway she knew quite well.

Esther was far away, probably hoping Leila was doing exactly what she wanted. And Arielle may kill her for good this time if she caught her.

But Leila was far wiser than her two aunts—one Albert trusted and the other he did not like so much. One Leila once trusted, and one she did not know much. One who stole her throne, the other intending to steal it again.

Arielle and Esther were not the best choices, of course.

So why not play both?

---

Ruby enjoyed the chilly wind that swept the schooner. Once more, she was far away from home. She closed her eyes, hoping Sheridan was safe.

“Ah, there you are,” Crystal, another Belle, stood beside her. “I did not know you’re attending the Islefield party, Ruby. Are you back with a mission?”

“I am, yes,” she said, eyes scanning the scattered guests on the deck. She was here because Aaron invited her, but she was also here because she had to talk to Summer. The woman missed no Islefield parties. “I’m hoping to get reacquainted with Summer.”

“But Summer’s not here.”

“I’m certain she is. Belle or not, she should be here.”

Crystal blinked at her with confusion. “Are you jesting, Ruby?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Belle or not?”

“Yes. Summer, Belle or not, will never miss Islefield.”

“Why would she not be a Belle?” Then Crystal laughed, stepping closer that her blond hair almost touched Ruby’s nostrils. “Darling, don’t tell me you don’t know.”

“Know what?”

Her question caused Crystal to step back stiffly, face completely guarded. “Well, if you do not know, then there must be a reason. I will not be the one to talk.”

“Good Lord, Crystal, tell me!” she charmingly prodded.

Crystal shook her head, her smile returning. “Darling, we are Belles. We know when to talk and when to shut up.”

“But—”

“If you want answers, ask the Mistress.”

“Jade is not here.”

“Then ask her once we return home!” Crystal patted her cheek. “Ruby, dear, I missed you. Things had been quite a bore without you. I’m glad you’re back.”

When they arrived on the island, Ruby was still as confused as she was after her interaction with Crystal.

“Whatever bothers you, I hope you tell me,” Aaron whispered beside her. “You’ve been quiet.”

“Aaron, do you know if Summer is attending?”

“Why?”

“I was hoping to enjoy her acquaintance, of course. It had been months since I last saw her.”

“She’s not coming, I’m afraid.”

“Summer never misses Islefield parties.”

“Well, this year she is. I heard she’s with Ridgemonton. And hear this—” He leaned closer and murmured, “They’re spending a week in an abbey. Said they’re cleansing their souls. Can you believe those two? Of the many odd things they could do, they chose an abbey for a retreat!”

Aaron followed his statement with a laugh, but Ruby did not. She froze where she stood, realizing Summer’s mission.

XXVIII | Choices

Gabrielle had never been inside a ballroom as one of the guests. In the past, since she became a Soldier of Belcourt, the shadows were her only ballroom. While the Belles enjoyed the light and glitters, the men and their drinks, them, the Soldiers, were the silent eyes behind everyone. Unnoticed, unassuming.

But not tonight.

For quite a few reasons.

First, she was in a dress. Her red, curly hair donned in a simple bun that did not attract, but was presentable enough (as Ellise St. Vincent said). “We cannot walk in and attract attention, but we cannot walk in wearing buckskins either,” the woman had said. Second, people looked at her. Not with interest, but with fleeting curiosity. Third, the curiosity was mainly on the fact that she was walking side by side with Rider Fairborne, the Earl of Keene.

She knew enough of his reputation—that he was a silent and arrogant man, his private affairs always private . Everyone was always interested in him, even the women, but they curiously seemed to be uninterested in him as well. He was an earl. He was, in fact, handsome. Women should at least try to get his attention. It must be his presence, the way his eyes would look at you and make you feel inadequate.

As mentioned, their curiosity was merely fleeting. They looked at her because she was with Rider Fairborne. Then they looked away because he was not interesting enough for them. And that was the end of it. No whispers as she feared, no ogling. Everyone else was with much desirable and charming companions.

This little display, walking around the grand ballroom, was only for her family, the Vandenbergs, wherever they may be in the room, to see for themselves. Like a prized artifact ready for auction, she was being put on display. Proof that she was real. Alive. Ready to be acquired.

Ellise St. Vincent and Robert Dior did not come with them. The pair was somewhere in the vast mansion to see their own artifacts on display. The two Royals they had to rescue.

“Can we leave now?” she asked Rider. He looked at her, perhaps a little longer than he typically would, and shook his head. “Why?” she bit out.

He surveyed the room nonchalantly. They were in a corner, unnoticed by most. And he seemed unbothered with the lack of attention. Here was a man who was as comfortable to be in the shadows like her. Just watching, always watching.

“That’s one of your uncles,” he said, nodding at a large man dancing with a woman.

“He has red hair.”

“That’s because he’s from your other side of the family,” he explained. “And that one with the red feathers on her sleeves is from your mother’s side of the family.” She followed his gaze to the woman with a cane surrounded by men her age, laughing. “She’s the messenger .”

Her jaw tightened. He meant the old woman was here to confirm Gabrielle’s presence.

“Then I know why we have to stay longer,” she murmured, taking a glass from the passing servant. She gulped it down. “Her eyesight must be struggling.”

The corner of his mouth quirked into a small smile. Or a laugh. Gabrielle mentally scolded herself. She should not be joking with Rider Fairborne. Or with anyone. She should be looking for an escape.

But how could she? The Vandenbergs were everywhere, their men in all corners of the room. The same with the Royal Circus. There were Belles here, and most definitely Soldiers too. But she could never tell where they were. In the shadows, of course. And what would they think of her if they ever recognized her?

Nora had kept secrets from her while they were on the ship from London. Why? Because they ordered her to, or because she was working with someone else? If only she could get to Nora, ask the woman the questions. At this point, she could only trust a Soldier.

If she wanted to get to Nora, she had to make a deal with the Circus. They were keeping the captured Soldiers somewhere and there was no way for Gabrielle to find out where unless she worked with them. But could she trust them to keep their end of the bargain? To let them go after they helped deal with the French soldiers?

Her eyes went to the messenger and a chill ran up her spine. The old woman was looking directly at her, lips curled into a smile as she pretended to listen to the men around her. And then she looked away, as if Gabrielle had never been there.

A hand came to rest behind her and she stiffened, almost ready to pounce and fight. “Don’t murder me in this ballroom,” Rider whispered beside her, his hand leading her away from their corner. “Let’s walk around. My legs are getting sleepy.”

“For how long will we be here?”

“As long as I deem necessary, my lady.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You are a daughter of a marquess and brother to an earl. You are a lady.”

“I may have been borne as one, but I was raised as nothing but.”

“Then what are you? A Soldier?”

She looked ahead, the faces around them a blur. These were people she should be acquainted with, should have known through family and friends if her fate had not been chosen for her. “An orphan,” she murmured.

She noticed his steps falter for a split second before he resumed. If he had a comment on her answer, he did not give it voice. “And you?” she could not help but ask.

“A Royal and proud of it. Also an earl and thankful for it.”

There was no hesitation. He was confident with his answer. “You were borne to be both.”

He shook his head. “I did not know about the Circus until I discovered my father’s secret.” His head turned so he could steal her a glance. “It was my choice to be a Royal. Because I believe in it and it’s with friends I trust.”

His silent question gave Gabrielle pause. His eyes were asking, And you? What were your choices?

She hated the answer because she knew it would satisfy him. It was not her choice to be sent to Belcourt. It was Belcourt who chose her to be a Soldier. And it was Belcourt’s law that told her who she had to trust.

A choice.

The Royal Circus was giving her that tonight. Before midnight.

To choose.

It was scary. It was unimaginable.

---

Esther considered Leila for a long time. They were sitting quietly in their prison, the bricks back in order.

“It’s not easy to get into the Village,” Leila explained. Although she did not try to get into the Village, what she said was true. “I must find another way.”

“I have no time.”

“Then I suggest we make a bigger hole so you can squeeze out and do what you want,” she snapped. “I wonder if you even know the way out of the Palace.”

Her aunt’s lips thinned, eyes narrowing to slits. The woman was obviously not used to being talked to like this, especially by a child. But so was Leila. The only people she tolerated were Caroline and Jamie. And maybe Mason. Before she left Belcourt and Arielle stole her throne, Leila was the law. Even after everything, the pride remained.

Pride, child, shall be your downfall. Ellise St. Vincent had told her that. Esther had much to learn about pride as well, she thought.

“I will return tomorrow, but I will not go to the Village,” she said. “I’m going to the Common Court.”

“The orphanage?”

She nodded. “No one will question if someone my size is found loitering around the only place where children are expected to be.”

“And what will you do there?”

“Steal cloaks, of course. So I can blend into the Village.”

“Cloaks will not make you less of a child.”

She rolled her eyes. “The children go to the Village for their lessons wearing their court cloaks. Do you understand now?”

Esther’s jaw clenched, and she stood up to look out the window. They could barely see the roofs of the Village from here. “Very well. Do what you must.” Then she faced Leila. “But while you’re away, I’m going to work on the hole. You’re right. I need to get out there.” She walked closer, eyes knowing and filled with warning. “Once you gain entrance into the Village, steal me another cloak. I want a purple one.”

Leila’s heart stopped for a moment. She did not expect that.

“I’m sure you can do that?”

She forced her thundering heart to silent itself, but it persisted. With much effort, Leila shrugged. “Of course.”

“Good,” Esther said. “Don’t do anything stupid. If either of us gets in trouble, we’ll both be in trouble. If you I suspect you’re doing something behind my back, I’ll make sure we get in trouble and I would not mind that at all. I, for one, have an army eager to save me outside this place. You have none but me.” With a satisfied sigh, she threw Leila a smile. “Do you understand me, child?”

Leila wished she could show this woman just how powerless she was inside Belcourt, but she needed Esther for her plans. So she had to agree. Or at least, make Esther think so. “Yes.”

---

“Are you ready?” Rider asked. His eyes looked between hers, probably assessing something. Or maybe he was concerned. After all, they would be letting go of someone that could have potentially been a good ally.

“And if I’m not?” she testily asked.

He blinked away to the window behind her. They were in a quiet study. “You better be.” When his brown eyes met hers again, he added. “We need to get our Royals back. Certainly, you understand that.”

“Of course,” she said. “But you are also hoping I’d choose to join you later at midnight.”

His gaze imprisoned hers. “Perhaps it’s time you make a choice, Gabrielle.” He stepped back, hands in the pockets of his trouser. “This is where I leave you.”

They said her family would come for her here. The two Royals would also be left in another study in the opposite wing. Both parties shall meet in the hall to watch each other while their men retrieved Gabrielle and the Royals. If one betrayed each other, the bloodbath shall be in the hall.

“Good night, Gabrielle,” Rider Fairborne said as he reached the door.

This was the last moment she would see him leave her. But why did it feel wrong? She was certain it was not because she had been used to his presence. Or that they formed a connection. They never had the chance to know each other.

The unease came from something else. The loss of hope that the door would open again. That she would have another visitor to present her their facts, their stories. To urge her to join their side. To ask her to deconstruct everything she believed it, to dissect them as someone other than a Soldier. To see things as Gabrielle, the woman she was supposed to be without Belcourt or the Vandenbergs. Without influence.

The chance for her to grapple with herself left with Rider Fairborne. Who was she, really? Outside of the fate the Vandenbergs gave her, Belcourt had chosen for her… Who was she? What did she want? What did she believe in?

Those questions would never be challenged again because once the door opened, the Vandenbergs would have her. And things would return to how they were: She, Gabrielle Shaw, fated to serve the family as a Soldier of Belcourt. And she, as a Soldier, should fight with them to bring them back Belcourt.

There would no longer be doors opening to Sasha, her brother, or Ellise St. Vincent. No one would dare push her to ask questions. Everything would be clear again. She would be plucked and planted back on one side of the board for another game.

She let out a shaky breath as she waited. She thought she heard Rider’s footsteps halt outside the door before it continued and disappeared. And shortly after, before she could even consider jumping out the window and escape, she heard another set of footsteps.

The door opened.

XXIX | Pride and Power

A woman dressed in emerald green stepped into the room. She was young and beautiful, her hair red and adorned with studs of glinting stones. Gabrielle had seen her earlier in the ballroom, but she was just one of the many vague faces there. One of the maybe —maybe a traitor, a friend, an innocent.

When she spoke, the voice was deep but still quite feminine, echoing around the dimly lit room. “My name is Philippa Vandenberg. We’re cousins.” There was a certain confidence about her which made Gabrielle curious. Why was this woman out here and not in Belcourt? She seemed strong and confident. Must have been trained to be so. So why—if they could make such strong and confident Vandenbergs outside Belcourt—did they put her inside? Why not this woman?

“You are not the chatty kind,” Philippa said with a smile. “But of course, you’re a Soldier. Aunt Theodora told me a lot about you. The family is very proud.” With a gentle, reassuring tilt of her head, she continued, “Would you join me to your room?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Of course, Gabrielle, you do.” And something about Philippa’s smile changed. Her mouth pursed just the tiniest bit, the fondness in her eyes, albeit small, changed into a hard look. “But would you deprive your family of a reunion? We have all wanted to see you for so long.” She waited until Gabrielle reluctantly followed.

She did not say another word as they walked out of the room, down the corridors and into the hall where they stopped just behind three gentlemen facing Ellise St. Vincent, Robert Dior, and Rider Fairborne. Philippa’s shoulders pulled back, head held high as she and Gabrielle waited behind the three Vandenbergs. Not long after, a group of men approached from the opposite wing. Royals led by another, and they too stopped behind Ellise and the others.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Robert Dior said to the three Vandenbergs before them. “The Circus appreciates the peaceful exchange.”

One of the Vandenberg men nodded. “We look forward to a peaceful rest of the evening.” And they moved, walking forward. Philippa motioned for Gabrielle to follow, and she did. The Royals were doing the same, walking in the opposite direction. When their paths crossed, Ellise St. Vincent and Robert Dior had their eyes ahead of them. Rider, however, caught her gaze. The three other Royals behind them did the same, but only fleetingly.

Once they were safe in the opposite wing and the Royals were out of sight, one of the three Vandenberg men said over his shoulder, “Take care of her,” addressing Philippa.

Philippa paused and bowed her head slightly until the three men disappeared into another corridor without sparing Gabrielle a glance. None of them ever did.

“Cousins,” Philippa groaned, rolling her eyes. “Not the best ones, but they do the job well. Come on, you must be tired.”

How many Vandenbergs were there? She knew only of a few her brother told her about. After a series of turns, Philippa ushered her inside a room. “Please rest well,” her cousin said. “Your mother will come for you soon.”

It was weird, the word mother . She did not have one in Belcourt, although she knew she had someone outside. When she was a child, she remembered thinking her mother would come for her after hearing the other children—at least those who could remember—talk about their mothers. But that never happened and the hope quickly disappeared. To hear that she would come for her soon here brought a strange feeling. A fear of being disappointed; a knowing that it would not happen; and confusion as to why she would even come at all.

“There’s food on the table in case you’re hungry,” Philippa said, gracefully motioning her hand toward the small round table. “There are also fresh dresses for you.” She waited for Gabrielle to say something and just smiled when she remained quiet. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When she reached the door, Gabrielle asked, “Where will you take me after this?”

Philippa sighed. “I don’t know, Gabrielle, and that’s the truth. I was just tasked to take you here.” She motioned with her hand. “Your mother will tell you what you need to know by the morrow.”

She just nodded.

Your mother will tell you what you need to know…

The door closed behind Philippa. And the lock came next.

Your mother will tell you what you need to know…

Alone now, with the faint glow of the candles in the room, Gabrielle looked up at the ceiling, then the walls, then the windows. She considered her options before she walked to the door and tried the knob. It was locked, of course, but one thing most people thought about doors in an enormous mansion like this one was that they had many vulnerable points. And one thing the Vandenbergs should know was that Soldiers were trained to work on all kinds of doors. Not just locks, but doors, Gabrielle thought as she rattled hers, eyeing the three hinges that held it in place.

---

Robert and Ellise entered their bedchamber, welcoming the silence that followed. The Royals were all preparing to depart at midnight as planned, the ship waiting near the eastern shoreline.

“What if she doesn’t show up?” he wondered, massaging Ellise’s stiff shoulders.

“I think we gave her a better impression than her terrible family did tonight,” she answered with a smile. “Did you notice their blank stares earlier?”

“Of course,” he said, planting a kiss on her neck. “Reminded me of you.”

She snorted and faced him, wrapping an arm around his neck. “If she comes tonight, this will be my last mission for the Circus.” He narrowed his eyes, doubtful. “I’m utterly serious. I’ll be Darcy and work in the background. Blackwood can do all the work.”

“What do you mean by this

mission ? Whisking her out of here, or joining her and the other Soldiers?“

“The latter, of course—”

“No,” he sternly said. “You are not putting yourself out there to fight against Napoleon’s soldiers with Belcourt’s soldiers. There will be enough Royals to join them.”

“That’s not what I want—”

“What you want is not what a Darcy should be doing.” He stepped back, away from her hold. “You’re carrying our child.”

Her jaw tightened. “I know. And I shall be careful.”

“You are not invincible, Elle. You’re pregnant—”

“And I don’t see why it should matter—”

“—and my bloody future wife,” he continued. “You stay on land and let us deal with the French.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “I’m not doing that.”

“Not if the Master orders you to.”

“You will not dare exercise your influence on Blackwood to keep me from doing what I want.”

“I will because you’re being irrational.”

“No, I’m not. I want to be on that ship. They need a leader.”

“It doesn’t have to be you.”

“It has to be me.” She stepped forward. “Do you think those Soldiers would just bow down to you even if Gabrielle sides with us? You’re all men. They hate men. They’ll kill you first before they take care of the French. If they’re going to work with anyone, it would be with another woman.”

Just as he opened his mouth to argue, a knock came at the door. His eyes lingered on Ellise for a while before he turned. Opening the door, he saw the one person he least expected.

“Robert,” Ruby said, her face tight and pale. “I need your help.”

---

Reginald did not stir from his chair. His hand, however, flipped one page of the book when the door closed behind Sasha.

“I see that you’re having a nice evening,” she said, walking into the room.

He just threw her a look and grumbled under his breath.

“You and Leo talked?” she asked, knowing the answer. “Or was it more like a fight?”

He snapped the book closed and glared. “I did not go back to Sutherland to have my orders ignored by everyone.”

“Of course. I understand you went back hoping to take over the throne.” She settled in the chair opposite his. Somewhere in the vast manor, West was with their child, putting the little angel to sleep. She would have preferred to be with them, but unfortunately, there was another child she had to deal with.

Reginald’s chest was heaving with contained fury. Sasha should tell him it was not good for his heart, but she knew it would only make him explode. So instead she asked, “How do you plan to do it, Your Highness? March to Louis and demand for your crown?”

“Yes!” he growled under his breath.

“And… What? Live forever?” she asked with a gentle smile. He hated her gentle smiles.

“Yes!”

“Leo would say you’re being unreasonable.”

“And he’s being pathetic. He just told me he doesn’t want to be king. That ungrateful bastard.”

“But he’s not your bastard, is he?”

“I meant the other kind of bastard.” He looked away to glower at the window. “This is not part of my plan with Blackwood.”

“Yes, but unfortunately, your plan is flawed. It centered on you and your desire to regain power. It did not consider the other players in the game and what they want.”

“I’m the rightful king of Sutherland.”

“Yes, of course. But you’re as useless as a single pawn.” Before he could erupt at her lack of respect, Sasha added, “The Royal Circus is no longer fighting for you, Your Highness.

“If I get the crown back, Napoleon will not have a chance.”

“If you get your crown back, your people will be divided. We cannot fight a battle if our weapons cannot work together.”

“This is all part of your plan,” he accused, pointing a shaking finger at her. “You, a woman from Belcourt, snaked yourself into the Royal Circus. You poisoned their minds. You poisoned my son’s mind!”

“What this is, Your Highness, is about pride and power. Yours and the Vandenbergs’ and Belcourt’s,” Sasha evenly said. “Leo recognizes that.”

“He doesn’t have enough pride and he surely, while I’m still alive, does not have power!”

“He already knows that.”

“Why did you even take me back?”

“Because you asked us to. And your life was in danger. I told you when we met that we may be returning to a different Sutherland. And we did.” She paused, measuring his anger. “You were dethroned unfairly. I understand that. But you would not have been dethroned if half of Sutherland did not believe your enemies. If you force yourself into the throne, that half of Sutherland will resist. Power is not in the throne, Your Highness. It’s with the people who trust you. It’s with the alliances you create. And it’s with the sacrifices you make.”

“And now you want me to sacrifice the remaining days of my life as a wronged man?”

“Your anger is not because you were wronged. It’s because you were stripped of your pride and power.” She stood and looked down at him. “Those have to wait, Your Highness. We have a land to save.”

“You only want to save Belcourt. Admit it, woman.”

“Of course, I do.”

“Then good luck with that.”

She slowly nodded. “I’m no king. Worse of all, I’m a woman. But unlike you, I’m not desperate for a certain power just so I could save Belcourt and Sutherland.” She looked around the room again. “Leo is departing tomorrow to join the mission against the French.”

“He can go to hell.”

Sasha remained quiet until she could no longer help it. She truly could not stand this man. “You’re a terrible father, Your Highness.”

“What did you say?” he demanded, eyes ablaze.

“I spent a significant amount of time with Leo. Behind his childish façade is a man who wants different things, but he’s trapped here, bound by compulsory loyalty to his father who just can’t let go of the past.”

“You do not understand a thing, young lady. We lost everything.”

Sasha could see that he truly believed it to be so. It was there all over his face—the things he lost. “No, Your Highness. You lost your throne. Your son lost his father,” she countered. He looked arrested then, but the anger in his eyes still shook and glimmered. “And you will lose him soon if you continue to give value to the things you lost instead to those you survived with .” She offered a small bow, half in apology for her tactless words. “I hope you think about what Leo wants for once. Good night.”

Later, as she slipped into bed beside her husband, he asked how it went.

“Marvelous as always,” she wryly said.

XXX | Ships and Allies

Gabrielle slipped out of the bedchamber in the same dress she came in. The music from the ballroom was faint, but it was a sign that she still had some time to go around. Where? She knew where.

She knew what Islefield meant to Belcourt. Jubert Stanway, the Duke of Islefield, sometimes hosted Belcourt Soldiers in between missions out in the sea. They could freely dock their ships here, whatever it was carrying. And sometimes, they also delivered things on the island—food, wine, artifacts, important things for clients, and most often, they also deliver Belles.

As the strongest supporter of the king, the duke held important documents. Names, plans, maps. Years ago, the Royals made an attempt to enter the duke’s estate in Coulway but failed to gain what they needed because the Soldiers were there first. After that failed attempt, everything Stanway kept as the most trusted adviser to the king was transferred here in Islefield.

Gabrielle did not know who he played for now, where his loyalty truly lay. It could be with the Vandenbergs, or it could be with Arielle. Whichever, it was better to have anything against anyone than nothing at all.

Having spent quite some time in this estate, coming in and out over the years, spying for Belcourt, Gabrielle knew every corner. They studied it; the map engraved in each Soldier’s mind.

The duke’s study was on the second landing, eastern side. But she also knew that’s not where he hid the important things. They were under his valet’s bed, down in the basement, in the servants’ quarters. And that’s where she went.

Stealthily, she made her way down, making innocent and silly excuses to servants, until she found the room where all the laundry was kept, found a pair of breeches and shirt and coat. Discarding the dress among the variety of clothes, she traversed the complicated narrow corridors and found the valet’s room.

It was empty, and the trunk was there as where it should be. She picked the lock, opened the trunk, and found maps. Also inside were hundreds of letters and sealed documents. Unsatisfied, she stood up and searched the room.

She found it under the mattress. A small notebook. She leafed through the pages, frowning as she tried to analyze. When it finally dawned on her, she scoffed.

It was a schedule. Boats coming in and out of Islefield. Belcourt’s ships.

She did not steal it, of course. The valet must check this notebook now and again. Grabbing pen and paper from the small table in the corner, she copied the time and dates of future ships coming in and out.

After putting everything in order, Gabrielle walked out, dressed as a footman, out of the servants’ quarters, emerging into a hall. In no time, she was out of the manor, running across the field toward the docks.

There was a line of boats of different kinds, all of them empty. But not far ahead, hidden in the shadows of the trees, were men waiting for midnight to strike. And she knew, hiding in the darkness of the ocean, there was another ship that would welcome them and take them away.

Gabrielle approached the men, confident she would not be killed, and found Rider Fairborne among them. She waited in a distance as he approached.

“The French soldiers have already docked a week ago,” she told him and almost smiled at the look of surprise on his face. “They are kept here on the island.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

“You can’t.” She handed him a piece of paper. “That’s the list of names of the men who will be here in seven days. All of them members of the House of Lords. Belcourt will also be here. They’re meeting one of Napoleon’s generals.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Because I know how to properly spy,” she said. “However, Belcourt will be sending a ship in three days.”

“To prepare for the meeting.”

She nodded. “If we board that ship and take it back to Belcourt—”

“We can enter Belcourt.” As she nodded, he shook his head. “The Royal Circus is no longer planning to infiltrate Belcourt. It has been agreed that the Vandenbergs will do that.”

Gabrielle smiled. “I don’t believe you, Rider Fairborne. I know the Circus does not work with anyone, especially with the Vandenbergs.”

His eyes bore into hers. For a brief moment, they measured each other’s gaze. “Believe whatever you wish. Our priorities have shifted because of the French. Belcourt is no longer a priority.”

“I suggest you change your mind. Otherwise, I will not help you.”

He frowned at her. “Why?” Stepping closer, he looked into her eyes. “Why do you suddenly want to get into Belcourt? Why not stay here with your family? Or even wait for your fellow Soldiers?”

“Reginald and Sasha said Belcourt took the High Priestess.”

“You mean the child.”

“Yes.”

He shrugged. “She could be dead by now.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“Are you telling me that you’re doing all for a child? That your loyalty lies with her?”

Yes, because that child was another Vandenberg thrown in a fate she had no choice over. The same child she vowed to protect as a Soldier. “Yes.” He looked unconvinced, so she added, “I’ll help with the French. I’ll fight alongside all of you, but after that, you’ll take me back to Belcourt, and you’ll help me get that child back.”

“You’re loyal to Arielle.”

She shook her head. “I’m loyal to Belcourt and that child.”

“What are you really planning? Take the child, then what?”

“Keep her safe.”

“And what about Belcourt?”

Her gaze faltered. She had not thought of that yet. “Don’t underestimate the women of Belcourt, Rider Fairborne. With or without me, they’ll know how to fight for their home.”

---

Ruby left nearly everything she arrived with in her bedchamber. She told Aaron she was not feeling well and wanted to retire for the night. She risked everything, she knew that, by coming to Robert Dior, the man she swore she would not work with anymore.

Their walk to the docks was quiet. He did not ask more questions, only offered a way out of Islefield.

“We don’t have enough men to help you,” he had told her.

“I just need to go back to the mainland,” she almost begged.

He thought hard for a moment. “I’ll come with you.”

She looked up, surprised. “Why?”

“Sheridan Garmont is in danger. We can’t lose her,” he said, face tight.

There were no complaints, not even from Ellise St. Vincent. The woman just stared at Robert Dior and said, “We should get going.”

She did not know what would happen to her, or if this was just a trap set up by Belcourt to catch her. But she could not just sit here and wait. Her parents were in danger. And so was Sheridan.

The boats were ready when they arrived. And before Ruby knew it, they were being rowed toward a ship. And to her surprise, she saw Gabrielle there dressed in a footman uniform. Their eyes locked, both of them confused about seeing each other on a ship with people that should be their enemies. But before words were spoken, Ellise St. Vincent stepped forward and took Gabrielle away, saying it was time to make plans.

Ruby was led into a cabin by a Royal. And then she was locked inside. Understandable, of course. And the moment she was alone and felt the ship sail away, her shoulders began to shake.

Suddenly, her life in Belcourt before all of this flashed before her eyes. She had been a Belle and had been working with secrets, yet she had been innocent. Or mayhap she just chose to be ignorant.

Questions flooded her. How did it come to this? Was this her fault?

If she didn’t take any part in this, if she didn’t let the Circus threaten her with the secrets they forced out of her former flower, Willoghby, this might not have happened. If she didn’t take the risk of seeing her parents now and then, if she didn’t keep it a secret from Belcourt, perhaps then she may never be here now. Perhaps then she would still be in Islefield, enjoying the night with Aaron.

But things happened. She walked into the library in Coulway and dug herself in a hole not meant for her. She chose to do the righteous thing… For what? The freedom of the women? She was just a Belle, trained to spy and flirt. She was not trained to be a hero.

No, that’s not what Sheridan would tell her. That’s not what her mother would say. Nor her father. They would tell her to follow her heart, to see her own path. She wiped her tears and sniffled.

And then she squared her shoulders.

Then she smiled, as she always did.

She was Ruby, after all. And she could do this.

---

Leila opened her eyes and slipped out of bed when it was certain that Esther was deep in sleep. Without a sound, she went to the wall and quietly pulled out each brick. And just as quietly, she slipped out of the room, down the same path to the hall of the Palace.

Footsteps echoed from one corridor and her heart leapt to her throat. She pressed against one wall, hiding in the shadow cast by the column to her right. She waited, she counted. Soft chatters followed the footsteps until they grew distant. Poking her head out, she watched the two Soldiers disappear.

With a shaky breath, she made her way to the servant’s doors at the side of the Palace. A small corridor led straight into a series of rooms. Kitchen, pantry, two more corridors. And further back, just by the exit doors that would lead straight to the Village, Asa, the Maiden, was already waiting. She looked tensed, but she bowed her head when she saw Leila. And without a word, Asa wrapped Leila in a velvet cloak, the same ones the Elected wore, one Leila herself had worn before she became High Priestess.

“This way, Your Highness,” Asa said under her breath, leading Leila down the path that hid them from the nearest watchtower. Just at the end was a small carriage. She easily climbed inside and sat on the floor, pressing against the door. Asa drove them away from the Palace, but of course, Soldiers that they were, the ones posted by the road stopped them.

“My lady, where are you going?”

“I’m out to take some fresh air,” Asa said.

A long pause followed.

Leila’s heart hammered against her chest, blood rushed to her ears.

“Please don’t stay out too long,” the Soldier said.

“I won’t.”

And the carriage continued down the path. They went on like that for some time, just rolling down the road. In truth, Leila had never been outside the Palace. Although she knew the place through its maps, she had never been to where they were headed. The ladies always came to her.

When the carriage eventually slowed down, Leila looked out the window. Asa had stopped the carriage inside a driveway surrounded by lush gardens. The front façade was quiet, as if everyone had been told to go away.

There were two buildings arched in almost a circle. She knew what they were, what rooms were inside. But she had never been here.

Asa opened the carriage door and guided her to the ground. Wasting no time, they rushed through the first building and across to the outer one. She was led up a series of stairs, down a corridor, and into a chamber. On their way, they did not meet a soul. Not a single Belle.

Except for the one inside the study.

Leila stepped in after Asa, and her eyes flew to the Mistress of the Court of Flowers. Jade was already on her feet, rushing toward her.

“Your Highness,” the woman greeted with a smile. “Lady Asa told me everything. You need my help?”

Leila smiled. “Yes.”

XXXI | Dinner

“Plans have changed,” Ellise told Gabrielle. “Now that we know the French soldiers are already here, we have to step back and regroup.”

“I need to reach Belcourt.”

“I know,” said Ellise, looking at her, face unreadable. “I’m not the one who makes the decisions in the Circus. If you want to get to Belcourt, you will have to wait.”

Her jaw tightened, and her gaze flickered to Rider Fairborne. He remained motionless where he was, just watching everything like he always did. Thinking that she had made her choice—that this was her choice—Gabrielle nodded.

“Good,” Ellise said, turning around to the door. “I hope you don’t mind if we lock the door.”

“Where are we going?”

“To meet with the Royal Master.”

---

“I will meet you in Strait after I get Sheridan,” Dior told her the moment they were alone in their cabin.

Ellise nodded, facing him. She considered his serious face, completely aware why he wanted to go. He was not doing it for Ruby. He was doing it for Sheridan Garmont, the only living relative of the man he did not manage to save.

“Bring two Royals with you,” she told him. “We don’t know how many Soldiers are going to be there.”

He nodded, stepping closer. He planted a kiss on her forehead. “Please don’t go anywhere until I’m back.”

“Are you asking me to make a promise?”

She felt his smile against her skin. “You’ll never do that, but I hope you will.”

“There is a chance Blackwood will make a move, and if he does, I don’t think we can wait for you. We don’t know where things stand with Reginald and the Vandenbergs.”

He leaned back just enough to look at her. “Elle, forming alliances is the former Darcy’s expertise. I’m sure she’ll be able to convince everyone to swallow their pride if they all want to survive.”

She shook her head. “I just don’t like how we have to constantly change plans.”

“Of course, you don’t. That’s why you’re not the Royal Master.” She scoffed. “You are no longer fencing or playing chess with friends, Elle,” he said. “This time, you don’t know your enemies well to expertly guess their moves. Not even the ones on your side.”

She did not comment. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. She did not want him to go. What if he never came back? But if she stopped him and something happened to Sheridan Garmont, he would always live in the shadow of guilt. She kissed his jaw and murmured, “Be safe.”

His mouth sought hers. “And be very careful. No fencing.”

She smiled. “No fencing.”

“And for God’s sake, Elle, no horses.”

His hands unbuttoned her dress and she let him slip it down her shoulders. “No horses.”

---

Leila watched Jade pace before her, looking troubled.

“You’re saying that Esther is here?”

“Yes. We are being kept in the tower.”

“Arielle never told me.” The Mistress’ voice was laced with anger and frustration. She stopped pacing and faced Leila. Asa stood silent in one corner, head bent. “She told me Esther was captured by the Circus.”

“She was, but now she’s here.”

Jade’s jaw tightened and Leila could only hope that the woman hated Esther as much as she hated Trent Durham. Albert once told her that fury was the best weapon, so long as it’s not yours.

“I don’t know why Arielle did what she did to me,” Leila said when Jade remained quiet. “In fact, I didn’t understand many of the things she did, but I think I know now. She wanted to be High Priestess so she can use the women of Belcourt for her own personal battle. Just like what Esther did to you, she used me and then disposed of me.”

The fury in the woman’s eyes grew, as did her breathing. “What do you need, Your Highness?”

“I need to get out of here. I’m not safe here while Arielle is in control. I need to get help from the Circus. I’ve managed to manipulate them enough to be able to use them to regain my seat in the High Court.”

Jade shook her head. “The Circus will never lift a finger to help you. They’re intent on destroying us.”

“No. I know Robert Dior. He will help.”

“Dior and his friends are currently preoccupied. After what happened, they are even more cautious. To get to them is as difficult as getting into Arielle’s chambers.”

Leila frowned. “What do you mean by ‘what happened’?”

“The attack.”

“Which one?”

“The one near Herst. Arielle sent Soldiers to attack Dior’s ship. There were a few casualties. His father was killed. But so were others back in Herst.”

Leila stiffened. “Others?”

Jade nodded. “I’m uncertain of the numbers, but I heard Trent Durham’s brother was killed.”

Blood drained down Leila’s face. “Jamie?”

Jade nodded, the corner of her lips quirking into a smile. “I heard he was found dead inside the closet with Caroline’s sister.”

Suddenly, Leila did not feel quite well as she imagined Jamie and Camila inside a dark closet, hiding, one of them dying. In a flash, the image of the pair came to her. Their obsession over their future house, their gardens…

She could still vividly remember the first time she met them. “I’m Camila. This is Jamie. We are betrothed.”

And she could still hear Jamie’s voice when he said, “We have to make a plan. But we should make haste. We are expected to join them downstairs.”

“That can’t be. We don’t kill children,” she said, voice shaking.

Jade shrugged. “It must have been an accident.”

Leila stood, tears welling her eyes. “We do not kill children.” We save them.

Jade blinked and stepped back, bowing her head. “I’m sure it was just an accident, Your Highness.”

Leila closed her eyes to master herself. She willed the tears to stop, to retreat. This was not the time to be weak. Lifting her chin, she stared at Jade. “If you help me regain my throne as High Priestess, I’ll give you Esther.”

Jade looked up at her, eyes glimmering with hope and eagerness. “I would also want Ellise St. Vincent.”

Leila frowned. “Why?”

“She almost killed me.”

Of course , Leila thought, nodding. “But only if I get to be High Priestess.”

Jade nodded. “I’ll find a way out for you, Your Highness.”

She nodded, turning away from the Mistress. “I’ll return in three days. By then, I want to hear a plan.”

Outside, as they traversed the corridors of the Flower Garden, Leila added instructions to Asa. “I want to know what Arielle is planning.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Inside the carriage a few minutes later, Leila sat on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees. The image of Jamie, Camila, and Mason with his stick walking in the woods, came to her. And before she knew it, tears escaped her eyes.

She did not even know why she was crying. She should not because she barely knew them, barely spent time with them. But Jamie did not deserve to die—not when there were people who should have been protecting him. He had parents. He had a future.

Her shoulders shook with the gentle journey of the carriage down the road. And her tears were as silent as the night outside. Finally, she realized, that in war, children’s cries were often unheard. The world would never be a safe place for children. Not outside Belcourt, not inside.

---

The journey back on land was short, but when they set foot on solid ground, dawn was giving rise to a new day. Ruby waited with two Soldiers as Robert Dior and Ellise St. Vincent stood on one side of the dock, talking in whispers. In her time with Robert Dior, back when he was her flower, she could have never imagined him being with a woman. There was not a romantic bone in his body. But with this woman, who was just as stoic as him, he looked like a man hesitant to go to war.

She looked away when he planted a nonchalant kiss on Ellise’s forehead, her eyes landing on another group of Royals escorting Gabrielle into a carriage. Ruby could only guess why the woman was with the people Belcourt deemed to be its enemies. Mayhap Gabrielle was also facing a battle of her own, one that involved people outside Belcourt.

Seeing Gabrielle here amongst Royals gave Ruby hope. The women of Belcourt had roots and history outside the walls of fantasy Belcourt built around them. And no matter what the institution told them, whatever the story they believed in, those roots and history would always find a way to slither back into the fantasy.

“Are you ready?” Robert Dior’s voice asked beside her.

She looked up at his stoic face. Suddenly, hesitation crept in. She was desperate to save her parents and Sheridan, but would she also take this man away from the people he cared about? “You don’t have to do this,” she told him. “I can go alone. I think it’s a much better plan. I can always make an excuse for the Soldiers. They’ve always believed me.” She stole the two Royals standing behind Dior. “If they find you there, it might just turn bloody.”

“The fight is already bloody, Ruby,” Dior said, walking away. “We have to get moving. Let’s not wait for the sun.”

---

West was cradling Jonah in his arms while Sasha sat in a chair, Seven on her lap as she absently gazed at them with a small smile on her lips. They did not object when Vanessa Lyndon, the captain of the ship that brought them to England, suggested that they named their first son Jonah. It meant dove, the symbol of peace. “It’s also the name of the boy who survived after being swallowed whole by a whale,” Vanessa had said. “He came out alive and wiser than he was before.”

Odd as it was that a woman like Vanessa Lyndon had read the bible, Sasha and West agreed to the name. Jonah crying snapped her back to the present.

“I think he’s hungry,” said West, turning toward her with a panicked look on his face.

“No, I think he’s not liking all the juggling.”

“I’m not juggling him.”

She gently gathered Seven and placed the dog on the floor to stand and take Jonah from her husband. “You have to be gentle,” she said, smiling down at her son.

“How did you learn to do this?” he asked, watching her watching their son.

She looked up to frown at him. “Are you seriously asking me?”

He blinked at her innocently, and she laughed when the realization finally reflected on his face. “You had to take care of the other orphans in the Common Court.”

She planted a kiss on Jonah’s forehead. He had gone back to sleep in her arms. “We were each other’s family,” she murmured, reminiscing about the nights they would have to wake up to care for an infant who had been dropped outside Belcourt’s gates. They would also take the babies to the hired nursemaids living in one room in the orphanage.

West leaned closer to kiss her. “Your family is growing, darling,” he said, turning around when a knock came to the door.

Darren walked in and in a conspiratorial whisper, said, “He wants to see you, Your Grace.”

West sighed and nodded. “We’ll be down shortly.”

Sasha chuckled, turning away to place Jonah in his crib. “He’s like a child throwing a tantrum because he’s not getting what he wants. It’s time you practice on him.”

“I’m considering the use of force, but then I know you won’t like that,” he said as he stepped out of the room. Jonah’s nanny walked in as Sasha joined her husband down the corridor.

She took his hand, and they both enjoyed the short quiet of the manor.

When they reached Reginald’s bedchamber, he looked just as they expected: old and grumpy. But what he said next was not as they had expected. “Call everyone. And I mean everyone, including Luis, his witch of a wife, and their son.”

Sasha blinked in surprise. “And what should we tell them so they actually come, Your Highness?”

The old man’s eyes flickered away from them. “Tell them we’re all going to enjoy a private dinner.”

“And what shall be served?”

“Truce for the main course. Marriage for dessert. They will have to come if they don’t want Napoleon at the head of the table.”

“We will send words at once, Your Highness.”

He grumbled under his breath at West’s amused tone. “And I want Leo here at once!”

XXXII | Truce and Fire

The room was quiet and tense even before the grand door of the manor opened and royal guards filed in, eyeing everyone and everything in the dining room, even the food. There were an equal number of men to guard Reginald, making the room a little crowded for a dinner of seven. Four were already waiting: Reginald at the head of the table as a king should, Leo to his left, and West to his right. Beside West sat Sasha, eyes on the open doorway, thoughts on her sleeping infant upstairs.

The twenty guards in the room had been preceded by the king’s royal cook who tested all the food in the kitchen. Other guards were outside, perhaps just a shout away from drawing their swords on West and Reginald’s men.

The first to come through the door was the crown prince. Emory’s face was unreadable as he stood not far away from the other end of the table to wait. Not long after, Louis walked in with the queen.

Sasha was used to being surrounded by men who thought themselves powerful, but never had she ever been in a room where the said men dominated every corner without a word. The men in question were Reginald, Emory, and, of course, the queen.

Louis was not a man who gave off a striking impression like his late son, Albert. He looked like any gentry she had encountered in the past. He had graying hair, deep sea-blue eyes, and thin lips. He was tall and slim, his entire clothing probably heavier than him. However, his wife and heir held themselves differently.

Queen Helena exuded a certain arrogance around her, her chin tilted just high enough, her eyes mild but held everything in. Her son was a little different, but altogether impressive. He had a small curl at the corners of his mouth as he nodded his head to greet them good evening.

For the first time, when no one spoke, Sasha hoped she was elsewhere.

“The seats don’t light up, Louis,” Reginald said, eyes on the man.

Louis stepped forward and took the seat at the other end. Sasha and West could lie foot to head on that table and it would still not be enough to cover its length.

“I was told you have my daughter,” Louis said, foregoing pleasantries. Even the way he spoke could not convince Sasha that he was the ruler of the kingdom. The tone of his voice sounded like he was the sort of man who would rather spend his day digging in the garden.

Reginald smiled, looking at the queen. “I wonder why the queen has not told you.”

Helena’s brow twitched. Emory looked uncomfortable as any child should be.

“Your daughter was sent to Belcourt,” Reginald said with a bored sigh. “Upon our suggestion, Queen Helena here agreed that taking Esther inside would give her and the Vandenbergs entry into Belcourt.”

If Louis felt anything toward his wife at the revelation, he did not show it. Sasha had to at least give him some credit, most especially when he said, “If you think I don’t know about Belcourt and what it truly is, Reginald, I’m afraid I would have to disappoint you. My wife has told me.”

“Of course, she did,” Reginald replied, chuckling wryly. “But I hope she told you everything,” he added.

Sasha shifted in her seat and met Leo’s gaze. He rolled his eyes and reached for his wine, gulped it down as his father’s laughter slowly died.

“Did she also tell you about how her pathetic family can’t figure a way to get back inside after they’ve been…locked out, shall we say?” His gaze traveled to the queen, whose face hardened as he spoke. “They were hoping the princess would just walk up and open the gates for them so they could regain control of their precious cult.”

“Enough.” The queen’s voice reverberated around the room. “The Vandenbergs have a plan.”

“Of course, you don’t. You just jumped to the chance when the Circus suggested you give Esther to Arielle.” Reginald chuckled. “Because you are in a state of panic and panicky people can hardly think. Did you really believe she’d find a way to let you in? She’s probably locked in there somewhere. That is, of course, if she’s not yet dead.”

Emory threw West a look of betrayal. Sasha’s husband merely offered a small smile of apology.

It was not clear how much the king knew, but by the way his gaze wandered to the queen, it seemed that he was finally seeing her in a new light. But then, of course, he did not know the other people in the room, and to act like a clueless fool was not part of his agenda. “What do you want?” he asked Reginald.

“Belcourt has found a way to manipulate the House of Lords and with their help, some of Napoleon’s soldiers have managed to get into Sutherland.”

“There is no such thing. I’m aware of their desire to side with the French, but I am yet to make that decision.”

“And do you think I also made the decision to leave the throne and escape Sutherland?” Reginald shot back. “Like I was before, Louis, you are but a man with a crown. Your power is only effective until it’s not.”

“There is no way Belcourt would be able to do—”

“Oh, you fool,” Reginald interjected. “You don’t even know what your wife is capable of. You’re only wearing your crown because she has to become queen. So that her family continues to rule Sutherland.”

Louis’ face hardened. He did not look at his wife. He just stared at Reginald, looking more clueless with each passing second.

“I’ll let the queen explain what her family has done to me, to you, and the institution of Belcourt. She’s the only one who can tell you how Albert went behind her back and made plans of his own with your bastard, who, we now believe, is behind everything. I heard Albert was wise, but I guess your bastard with Elizabeth Blackwood is more cunning.” Louis’ face went red with fury. “Now, I’m not one to get involved in family affairs, especially when bastards are concerned, so why don’t we move along?” Reginald asked with a sneer. Sasha could only imagine what he was like when he was on the throne. Whoever betrayed him must have had some trouble doing so. “The Vandenbergs were kicked out of Belcourt who is now, as I said, planning to destroy the kingdom by siding with the French. This time, Louis, you’re on the same boat I was in years ago. Just this time, you’re potentially losing your throne to the worst man alive.” He let the silence linger for a while before he stated, “I did not mean myself. I meant Napoleon. He’s losing and I believe he’s desperate for a kingdom to fight his war.”

Reginald took a sip from his wine, swallowed, and stared at Louis for some time. “I suggest we attack Belcourt. The Royals have found a way in. We just need more men.”

“Attack an orphanage, Reginald? Are you insane?”

“It will be a bloodbath,” the queen said.

“As if you care for the women and children inside, please,” Reginald wryly retorted with a wave of his hand.

“If Arielle learns of this, she’ll make a move,” Emory said, breaking his silence. “With Esther inside Belcourt, it is understood that Arielle is prepared for a rescue. As my mother said, the Vandenbergs have a plan. They can infiltrate Belcourt without anyone getting hurt.”

“Unrealistic,” Reginald said with a shake of his head. “Sasha, dear, why don’t you tell them?”

The royal family turned their head toward Sasha. Not allowing herself to be intimidated, she said, “The Belcourt you knew before Albert died is different now.” She veered her eyes to the queen. “When you learned of Albert’s involvement with the French, you immediately had him killed without a proper plan.” She ignored the furious gaze Louis sent his wife and continued, saying, “Albert was a wise man. His moves were always calculated. Arielle was with him every step of the way, but she also had her own plans. With no Vandenberg to rule Belcourt, she has complete authority over Belcourt. While they both want to side with Napoleon, their reasons were different. Albert just wanted to play because that’s what he always liked to do. He was not aggressive because he had a lot to lose as a crown prince and as the ruler of Belcourt. But Arielle does not have much. She only has things to destroy, and that is you and your kingdom, Your Highness.” She locked her gaze on Louis. “Her home is not Sutherland. It’s just Belcourt. And she will do what it takes to keep it in power as soon as she could. She’s not the patient kind. Waiting for someone to infiltrate Belcourt inside is not the best course of action once the French make their move. We cannot waste time.” She let her words sink in before adding, “If we take over Belcourt first, we can then gain access to the French soldiers. We have information that Belcourt is due to meet the French. We have to be there, but we have to be there as Belcourt.”

“The Royal Circus has a proposition,” West spoke. He waited for the people at the end of the table to look at him. “We’ll help the Vandenbergs take over Belcourt. We need as much men as we can get.”

“If you do so, I’ll offer a truce,” said Reginald, eyes on Louis. “But not without a price.”

“What?” Louis asked through gritted teeth.

Leo turned to them with a smile. “Me and your daughter. A betrothal.”

---

Ruby smelled smoke before she even saw the fire.

“N-No,” she choked out as she jumped out of the carriage.

“Ruby!” Dior shouted after her, but she ignored him, running through the crowd of nuns and villagers that blocked the entrance to the courtyard.

“Ruby?” she heard one nun ask.

Stopping, she whirled around and asked, “Where’s Mother Marissa?”

None of them could give her an answer. She stumbled back and looked up at the burning window on the second floor of the abbey.

“Someone’s already looking for them,” one nun said. “It’s going to be okay, Ruby. They were with visitors and—”

“Which visitors?” she asked.

“Two women. They retreated to the library upstairs. No one saw them since then. We’re missing others, but there are men inside looking for every one of them.”

Dior emerged from the crowd. “Ruby, don’t go in there. We’ll look for—”

Ruby whirled around and ran to the entrance of the abbey, passing through men who were passing pails of water in a line that led up the stairs.

“Oi! Lady! Don’t go up there! It’s dangerous!”

Ruby felt the heat in the air as soon as she reached the second landing. Two men carrying an unconscious nun were running down the corridor, shouting for her to get back.

“Ruby!” Dior’s voice shouted from below.

She turned in the direction of the library and ran as soon as she realized the fire was from the other side of the corridor. A distraction, she thought.

When she reached for the knob of the library door, it was locked.

“Step aside,” Dior’s voice ordered as he threw his shoulder against the door. It did not give in, but it did when he stepped back and kicked it open.

Inside, four women were waiting. Sheridan and Mother Marissa were tied to a chair, two Soldiers standing before them.

They were momentarily distracted when the door burst open and Sheridan took the chance to throw herself and the chair toward one Soldier. The other went behind Mother Marissa, planting the blade of her sword against her throat.

Robert swiftly landed a kick against the Soldier Sheridan attacked, rendering her unconscious.

“Stop it or I’ll kill this woman,” the Soldier holding Mother Marissa growled.

“Stay back!” Ruby shouted at Dior. And at the Soldier, she begged, “Please, let her go.”

The Soldier shook her head. “It’s good that you’re not late, Ruby.” Blood trickled down Mother Marissa’s neck. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Ruby realized then that she had walked into a trap. They were not after Sheridan or her mother. Arielle just wanted to prove that she was a traitor.

“No, I’m not,” she sternly said, stepping closer, holding the woman’s gaze.

“Let’s not waste our time, Ruby,” said the Soldier. “There are others on their way here—”

The shot echoed around the room and Mother Marissa shouted as the Soldier holding her slumped to the floor with a bullet in her head. Ruby whirled around to face Dior, eyes round. “What did you do?” she asked, looking at the smoking pistol in his hand.

“Helping you,” he said, walking toward the other Soldier.

“No!” Ruby shouted, rushing to him. She grabbed the pistol and threw it to the side. “Don’t kill her,” she said, voice shaking, eyes welling with tears. “More of them are on their way here. They knew I’d be here and they’ve been waiting.”

She turned to her mother and, with shaking hands, untied her from the chair. “Go,” she said, cupping the woman’s tear-streaked face. “Stay with Sherry. Go far away. Somewhere safe. Can you do that?”

“But—”

She pressed her lips against her mother’s ear. “Please, for once, give me what I ask,” she begged, choking on her own tears. “Please, Mama.”

The woman broke into tears, trembling as she nodded and wrapped her arms around Ruby.

“Don’t be stupid, Ruby,” Sheridan said from behind her. Dior had already freed her from her bounds. “Don’t do what I think you’re going to do.”

Ruby shook her head as she smiled at her mother. Standing, she faced Dior and Sheridan. “Belcourt only needs proof that I’m a traitor. If I run away with you, then I’m giving them what they need. I have to stay and prove to them that I’m here just like everyone else.” She looked at Dior. “I’ll tell them I was given the mission to take you here. That’s why I came with you. I thought they staged this for my mission.”

“They’ll soon realize there was no such mission.”

“Of course, there was,” Ruby said. “Gabrielle gave it to me as my liaison. No one told me she works with the Circus.”

“No,” Sheridan stonily said. “You’re coming with us.”

The two Royals rushed into the room. “There are Soldiers a mile away from here,” one of them said. “We have to go.”

Ruby turned to her mother and guided her toward Dior. “Please, keep her safe. Take the path that leads to the woods.” Robert nodded at the two Royals who guided Mother Marissa away. “Wait,” Ruby said, stopping her mother to embrace her one more time. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, my daughter,” her mother said, wiping her tears, her own streaming down her face. “Be safe. Be brave. And come back to me.”

Ruby nodded and kissed her mother.

As the woman and the two Royals left, she turned to Dior. “Find my father and keep him safe. Please.”

He nodded, face grim.

Then she turned, Sheridan was already shaking her head. “I’ll be back,” she told her. “I promise,” she added, stepping closer, cupping Sheridan’s furious face in her hands. “I’ll find you, Sherry,” she whispered, planting her lips against hers. Sheridan’s arms wrapped around Ruby as she answered her kiss.

“I’ll never forgive you if you don’t,” Sheridan said against her mouth. Leaning back, she wiped Ruby’s face. “We’ll wait for you.”

Ruby nodded, tucking Sheridan’s hair behind her tears. “Now, go,” she managed to choke out, pulling away. To Dior, she added, “Thank you.”

“Ruby—” he started, looking at her with worry.

“Go. I’ll buy you some time,” she interjected. “And fret not.” Sniffling, she pulled out a seductive smile. “I’m Ruby. I can do anything. I’ve fooled Belcourt before. I can do it again.”

XXXIII | A Different Opera

Leila made another short trip down the tower to meet with Asa. They talked in the shadows.

“Jade will be bringing people into Belcourt soon,” said Asa.

“How?”

“The upcoming Flower Ball. All Gentlemen of Belcourt shall be invited.” The look on Asa’s face told Leila that she was uncomfortable with the situation, but she was also hopeful. It had not passed Leila’s notice that Asa did not fully trust Jade.

“That’s good enough. And Aliya’s old maids?”

“They’ll find a way to serve during the ball.” Asa looked behind her. “Meet me here in three days, Your Highness. By then, Jade will have more information on how you will be escorted out of Belcourt.”

“And Arielle?”

“She’s making plans to meet with the French soldiers in Islefield. If she succeeds with this plan, Napoleon’s army would gain access to Sutherland. Members of the House of Lords are joining the said meeting.”

“Of course, they are. They want to maintain power once Louis is out of power.”

“If she succeeds, Belcourt will remain powerful.”

“Yes, perhaps. But I don’t like that the one in power is not me. Arielle will only ruin Belcourt.” Leila said. Arielle was insane. She did not care if she killed children for her goals.

“This was what Albert wanted as well.”

“Albert wanted many things, but that did not mean he was always right.” She looked away and murmured under her breath, “I also thought I was right.” She looked at Asa again. “When I make my escape, I won’t know how much time it will take me to gather all the help I can get. But once I’m in power, I’ll make things right. Everything they did wrong— I did wrong—I’ll make it right. I’ll make the children safe again. And they’ll be free to dream of their future.”

They’d be free to draw their future houses, plan their gardens, and be children. And they’d be ready to face the world outside Belcourt. Yes, they’d be free to leave. And they’d be free to stay.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

“I’ll wait for you here in three days.”

She could wait, Leila thought as she made her way back to the tower. Good things took time. As soon as she crawled back inside, Esther was already sitting in the bed, eyes on her. As if she had been waiting for Leila.

“I inspected the Palace. The Soldiers make their rounds—”

“Stop lying to me, child,” Esther said, walking over to her, eyes murderous.

“What do you mean? Are you angry because I did not tell you I was going out tonight?” Leila nonchalantly replaced the bricks on the wall. Done, she stood and faced Esther. “I’m simply doing what you told me to do. I’m looking for a way to get us out of here because you obviously cannot.”

“I was sent here by my family—”

“And you were a fool to believe they can take you out?” Leila asked. “They sent you here because they needed you to be here. Probably to make Arielle feel like she’s holding something against your family.”

Esther grabbed her by the arm and forced her to face her. “What are you planning?”

“I’m planning to go to sleep. I’m quite tired after doing all the work.” She squirmed away from Esther’s old and went to bed, heart beating fast. She could still feel Esther’s eyes on her as she closed hers. Would she be alive tomorrow? Perhaps not if the woman was crazy enough to kill her.

---

Lady Winthrop frowned at the line across from them. All dead men covered in white cloth. Five of them, in fact. She looked up at the cobwebs that blanketed the ceiling. And then she veered her bored eyes toward Natalia St. Vincent. “If Harriet is not in mourning, and if she was here, she would still be mourning. This place is the worst kind of boring. Makes me want to cry, really.”

Natalia St. Vincent sipped from her cup, swallowed, and said nothing. She caught Aliya’s gaze and slightly rolled her eyes. Aliya then shared a secret smile with Caroline, who had brought along a book for the long hours ahead.

“The dead men in Coulway are far more interesting than the ones in Strait,” Lady Winthrop continued, standing to inspect the dead faces one by one. Before her mother-in-law could make a sharp comment, Aliya shot to her feet to humor the old lady, asking, “How do you say so, my lady? This man has bruises on his cheek. His story seems interesting.”

Lady Winthrop joined her and scoffed. “He got it after during a drunken squabble. Nothing we’ve never seen before, darling.”

They went on to the next corpse, decided he, too, was boring, and the next, until they reached the last one. While they discussed the woman’s unfortunate accident with her dog that caused her to fall from a bridge and cracked her head, the door to the chamber opened and in walked the people they never expected.

The crown prince stopped when he saw them and gracefully acknowledged them as they stood, save for Natalia St. Vincent, who had taken Caroline’s book while sipping tea. Five royal guards followed, then the king himself. The door that led to the theater where the Royal Opera was to be held burst open and Rider Fairborne walked out and wordlessly guided the king and the prince through the doorway. The queen, on the other hand, came later, chin high and eyes looking straight, not seeing both dead and living. Behind her, a group of people, most of whom quite familiar to the Royal wives.

The Vandenbergs.

The room was still and quiet as all wives stared agape, save for Natalia St. Vincent, who had already flipped a page with tea in one hand. When they had all filed out of the chamber, Lady Winthrop, with her mouth still open, looked at the other wives. “I think it’s the first time I’m more interested in talking about living humans.”

As she said it, the Duchess of Eaton walked into the room with a small smile. “Hello, ladies,” she greeted, brown hair tied in a bun behind her nape. She was wrapped in a lavender dress and black cloak.

“Sasha,” Aliya said, slowly making her way to the woman, brows furrowed. “What is happening?”

“They’re having a different Opera tonight,” she said, gesturing for Aliya and Lady Winthrop to go back to their corner.

“About what?” asked Lady Winthrop.

“About a heist,” Sasha replied, taking an empty seat.

“And I suppose you’re here because you’re also waiting for your husband to be done with his duties?” Natalia asked, speaking for the first time.

“No, of course not,” Sasha said. Her eyes jumped from one woman to the other. “As women, they should not expect us to idly wait.”

That got their interest. Their shoulders straightened and leaned forward. Natalia St. Vincent snapped her book close and replaced her teacup on the small table.

“We have things to plan,” she told them.

“What?” Aliya and Caroline asked in unison, revealing their eagerness for something new. For an adventure. Lady Winthrop was smiling wickedly, equally excited, saying, “Oh, I’ve never been this intrigued since my last mission, dear. Please do go on.”

“The Royal Circus is building an army with old enemies, but it shall not be enough. We’ll need more help.”

“I doubt all of us can handle a sword, dear,” Lady Winthrop said. “My best weapon, for one, is my ears and tongue. That’s all I can offer, I’m afraid.”

“Fret not, my lady,” said Sasha, “I will not be expecting you to hold any weapon.”

“What do you have in mind?” asked Aliya.

“We need to gather all women who left Belcourt.”

---

Summer was quiet during the first few miles of their journey. Ruby sat just as quietly, her hands tied in front of her. The carriage jostled as it sped down the road, almost sending them both off their seats.

That’s when Summer met her gaze with a sad smile on her face. “I’m quite disappointed, Ruby. You were the last person I would think to betray us.”

Ruby only shook her head. “I felt the same thing when I was thrown into the dungeon and spent time with Sasha. I understand how you feel.”

“But you’re going to maintain your innocence,” said Summer. “What was it you told me? You were sent here on a mission?”

“Yes.”

“And you found the injured Soldier?”

“I told you, yes.”

“Ruby, you were also given the mission to finish off Sheridan Garmont. Which you did not do. In fact, the first thing you did when you learned I’m headed to the monastery is go after me. And now the woman is missing, along with your mother.”

Her jaw tightened, and she bore her eyes into Summer’s. “Gabrielle was there in Islefield. She told me to follow Robert Dior and I was just as surprised when he led me here. Garmont has contact with the man. If she was still indeed here, she would have asked for his help.”

Summer looked at her for a long time. “We have not heard from Gabrielle for months, Ruby. She never returned to Belcourt since she left for her last mission.”

“Well, she was in Islefield! I swear it!” she insisted, the truth genuine in her voice and eyes, giving Summer pause. When the woman made no comment, Ruby looked away. “The High Priestess always has plans we are not aware of. All missions are not open to everyone, especially that of the Soldiers. Gabrielle leading me here must be a part of a bigger plan by the High Priestess.”

She did not look at Summer as she waited for the woman to speak. “Well, we might find out if you’re telling the truth soon enough.” Summer paused for a few breathless seconds before adding, “Once the injured Soldier regains consciousness.”

Her heart went to her throat and she smiled through it. She faced Summer again and said, “I’m hoping she will.”

“For the meantime, I hope you understand why we’re treating you like a traitor, Ruby, dear.”

“Of course, Summer.”

She was a traitor to Belcourt. She knew that. But she was only a traitor to its ruler. Not the women, not the children. And definitely not her parents and Sheridan.

---

Ellise stood in one corner of the room as Blackwood addressed everyone. She met her brother’s disapproving gaze and looked away. The men and women inside the room were grouped. To the right were the Royals, looking unhappy to be sharing a room with the others. To the center of the room was the royal family, and to the left, in a small group, were the rest of the Vandenbergs—or at least the inner families. She could not help but notice one couple who kept throwing their son, August Shaw, the Earl of Ross, a look of disappointment and contempt. Were they thinking he was keeping his twin from them?

“The one thing we cannot have if we want to succeed in this mission is for one to betray the other,” said Blackwood, looking at the king and his wife. “Which, of course, can happen anytime. Which is why we’re taking collaterals. The floor is open to suggestions.”

“Children,” Ellise spoke before anyone could. All eyes snapped toward her and they were just as she expected. Outrage and disbelief. She smiled. “By everyone’s reaction, I hope you see my point.” She pulled away from the wall she was leaning against, folding her hands over her chest. Even West Blackwood threw her a scandalized look. “Not only will they be collaterals, we will also be keeping them safe. No one can touch them on the day of the mission, as they will be guarded. And, of course, no one would want to lose heirs.” She lifted her brow at the crowd. “What? Do you think your manors will be enough collaterals? Everyone in this room can live without one or two of their estates. But not without their sons and daughters. Only those evil enough should be willing to pay such a high price.”

She did not dare look at her brother because she could already feel his outrage across the room. Instead, she stared at the king as she asked, “All in favor, raise your hands.”

She got more than half of the votes. With a satisfied smile, she said, “We’ll place all the children on one ship off the coast of Sutherland, with equal numbers of Royals, Vandenbergs, and royal guards to watch over them.”

No one said a word. Perhaps because everyone agreed that their children were best kept safe somewhere far.

Blackwood tore his eyes off her and faced everyone. “That shall be included in the agreement we’ll all sign after.” When no objection was voiced out, he threw the cloth on the wall a look. On it was the map of Belcourt. He turned to them again and he said, “Before we discuss the details of the mission, we have to agree on another thing.”

The king shifted in his seat while the queen remained unmoving. The crown prince seemed amused. Leo, equally so as he sat in the back of the room with Reginald who was looking as scornful as the queen.

“And what is that?” one of the Vandenbergs asked.

“The future of the kingdom, of course,” Blackwood said. “Who will rule it and how the new Belcourt shall work with it.”

Ellise knew the royal family had already made a pact with Reginald and Leo. And she could only hope it would be enough for everyone else in the room.

XXXIV | In Ten Days

Gabrielle stood side by side Theodora Vandenberg in front of one of the hundreds of windows of the Sinclair Hospital in Strait. They watched the carriages leave one by one. All of them: the Royals, the king and his family, the Vandenbergs. The meeting was over moments ago, and even with all the planning, Gabrielle could still not believe she was here.

But she was. She was because she chose it.

“We should wait a while,” Theodora said, turning around to walk back to the chair by the fire. Gabrielle stayed by the window, not sure why she considered it an escape should things go awry. Should Theodora do something.

It was the Soldier in her who always thought of danger. But the other part of her, the one that was the child chosen to be a sacrifice, was curious about many things. And she knew Theodora had answers. Why, really, had they done what they did? Was it really for power? Surely, there was at least one good reason.

Before she could speak, she heard footsteps down the corridor. When the door opened, Ellise St. Vincent walked in with Sasha. And behind them were women Gabrielle was familiar with. Her eyes widened in surprise as eleven Soldiers filed inside, dressed in dark cloaks, face unreadable. She knew most of them; had trained with them for years.

“There are others,” Theodora told Gabrielle. “Others who had retired.”

Sasha was the one who spoke when Gabrielle could not find her voice. “They are loyal to your family and will fight with us next week.” A small smile touched her lips as she caught Gabrielle’s gaze. “We’re also locating the women who left Belcourt to ask for their help. As agreed earlier, I will lead the group that will secure everyone within the Common Court.”

“You and the other Soldiers will be coming with me,” Ellise said, looking stoic as always. “Before we leave tomorrow, I believe we have more planning to do.”

“I’ll leave you all alone,” Sasha said, stepping back.

Once she was gone, Ellise St. Vincent walked to the middle of the room, confidence in each stride. Being surrounded by women from Belcourt did not seem to faze her. “Shall we start?”

---

When the Theodora left with the Soldiers and Ellise St. Vincent told her to get a good sleep because it might be her last, Rider Fairborne arrived to take her to a villa they reserved for her and other Royals.

“I will be sleeping under the same roof, as well as other Royals,” he told her while inside the carriage. “Don’t attempt anything that may put you in a difficult situation.”

Gabrielle stared at him from across the carriage. His face was shadowed, but she could make out the shape of his nose and mouth. “As we agreed before we left Islefield, I will stay with you as long as you help me save Leila.”

Silence reigned between them, the sound of the carriage wheels against the cobbled road the only indication that they were in motion. “Are you comfortable betraying her?”

“Who? Arielle?”

“I heard you have always been the one she trusted.”

Gabrielle shook her head, looking at the spot where his eyes glimmered against the passing light from outside. “Arielle only trusts herself. It shall be her downfall.”

“And after? Once this is all over. What will your next choice be?”

Another choice to make. Of course. She was not used to making these kinds of choices, so his question became a bit of a dilemma. “I’ll stay with Belcourt.”

“Whatever becomes of it?”

She nodded. “Whatever becomes of it.”

“Even if Arielle maintains her power?”

She nodded. “If she remains to be in power after this, then I’ll face the consequences of my choices.”

“Do you want to hear my opinion?”

“No.”

“Good. I’ll say it nonetheless.” She snapped her eyes back to him. “I think that’s a stupid choice. You can come and join us.”

“You might all be dead after all this.”

“Possible, yes. But not all of us.”

“I don’t work with men.”

“You’re working with them now.”

“We’re talking about the future.”

He shrugged. “We work with women. Ask Sasha and the others who order us around.”

Her jaw tightened. “That’s how you manipulate us. You give us a certain kind of power so we stay.”

“And Belcourt? What do they give you in return to earn your loyalty?”

“You don’t understand. Our world inside Belcourt is different.”

“Which is why you wish to change it.”

“I didn’t say it’s perfect.”

“I don’t understand the animosity towards men.”

“I don’t abhor your breed.”

He chuckled. “Our breed.”

“Your breed, yes.”

“But you can’t say you like us either.”

She took a deep breath to compose herself. “The very fact that I’m uncomfortable in our current conversation should tell you why.”

“I honestly do not understand what you mean.”

“You make me uncomfortable.”

“Because I’m a man?”

“And you’re different from what we were told about you.”

His head shook as he chuckled. “We should do this more often, then, Gabrielle.”

“I’d rather not.”

“The first lesson, of course, is that you don’t have to kill every man you encounter.”

Through her teeth, she said, “I’m afraid I’m not a fast learner, sir.”

She saw his lips curl into a smile. “I’m a patient teacher.”

---

Of course, they took her straight to the dungeon. The Soldier had regained consciousness and told Summer the truth. Ruby was indeed a traitor.

Not surprising, Summer had sadly said before she let them take Ruby away.

She had been here before, yet it seemed different. She had been with Sasha. Now, it seemed different. There was no one here she could be angry at but herself. Nothing but her miscalculated choices.

The following day, Jade showed up. Her old friend, now her Mistress. Ruby wondered what happened to them. They grew up together. They enjoyed their lives as Belles, and they’ve been through many exciting things. It was hard to wrap her head around what Jade became, and what she became. It seemed like they were from different courts, unknown to one another.

“That was stupid of you, Ruby,” Jade said, shaking her head. “You were the one responsible for spreading Sasha’s letters, weren’t you? For what? The Circus? Did they poison your mind like how they did Sasha and Aliya?”

Ruby remained silent. Jade would never understand. A tear rolled down her face as she bowed her head, wanting to be alone. She needed a plan. A good one. And it was Jade who presented it.

“Enjoy the time you’ll have in this dungeon, Ruby,” Jade said. “You’ll be shipped to Sinhold in five days.” Jade’s face was filled with disappointment as she stepped back. “Enjoy your food.”

Without another glance, Jade stiffly walked away. Soon, a Servant, escorted by a Soldier, walked in carrying a tray, gray eyes looking determined.

Fatima.

The woman locked eyes with Ruby as the Soldier unlocked the cell. And then she slid the tray of food through the threshold, stood, and stiffly walked off while the Soldier locked the cell. Once alone, Ruby reached for her food and found a tiny piece of paper underneath the bowl.

Friends in ship.

Ruby tore the paper and mixed it with the food in her bowl until it was no longer visible. And then she ate, wondering what the message meant.

---

Sasha sat with her husband in the dark. Beyond the thin wall of the St. Vincent library, Aliya and her sister were talking.

“The Flower Ball is set,” Delaney was telling her sister. “Aliya, I’m scared.”

“You will be all right. I will meet you at the gates.”

“What if Jade finds out? Do you know that they have Ruby? They caught her.”

“Which is why this has to stop. This is not the Belcourt we want. This is not the Belcourt you chose, sister.”

Delaney sniffled. “I know.”

West’s hand absently sought Sasha’s as Aliya comforted her crying sister. He brought it to his lips. She smiled, knowing he thought she needed comforting as well. After all this time, he still believed Belcourt was her home. It had been, yes, but he was now her home. Their son was her home.

Belcourt was not home. It was her escape when she needed one the most. Now, it was the fallen savior she wanted to save.

“We’ll bring Belcourt justice. Everyone deserves freedom,” Aliya was telling her sister. “Now, stop crying.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I will not be hurt.”

“Maybe you should heed your husband’s advice. Don’t go, Aliya. We don’t know what Arielle is planning to do.”

“What kind of woman would I be if I stayed safe? If I let you fight this alone?”

“I don’t know where they’re keeping the previous High Priestess, Aliya. I no longer have access to the Palace.”

“It’s all right. Just meet me at the gates in ten days.”

When Delaney left and Aliya came through the door, Sasha stood and gave the woman a sad smile. “We’ll keep her safe, Aliya.”

Aliya sniffled and nodded. “I’ll retire now.” Forcing a smile, she wiped her tears. “Ollie’s been with our daughter for too long. That’s scarier, to be honest. Last time I left them longer than this, she was in his study, and that room is worse than Belcourt’s dungeons. And they should be ready now for the journey. And I need to see their trunks. There could be dead animals inside for all I know.” She offered a slight bow to her and to West before walking away to find her husband.

Oliver St. Vincent would be leaving with his daughter, along with Sasha and West’s son, tomorrow to join the other children from all players of the game on a ship. They would all be guarded until the battle was over. With instructions from West, St. Vincent would know what to do should things get out of hand.

Once they were alone, West led his wife to the bedchamber assigned to them by the St. Vincents. “Do you trust her?” West asked.

“Delaney? No.”

“Sometimes I wonder why you even try to ask for help from people you don’t trust.”

“Because we need their help.” She squeezed his hand. “We just need to be ready for when they betray us.”

---

Arielle gracefully set down her wine and smiled across the small table. Across from her, Tanner Macmier watched with a small smile on his lips. She knew he was hungry for something else, but he would have to work for it. He knew she was only useful to her if he gave her information.

“Thank you for coming at such short notice,” she said, nodding at the Elected standing by the door. The girl quietly left the room.

They were in Coulway’s largest hotel. She could no longer trust anyone to enter Belcourt, Macmier included.

“The king and the Circus are working together,” he said, watching her reaction.

She did not show much, but she was slowly boiling. She had anticipated this move from the Circus, but not from the king. As she realized his reasons, she slowly smiled. He was getting desperate. He had lost control of his own people. And obviously, so did his wife and the rest of the Vandenbergs.

“And what are they planning?”

“They sent Royal Watchers to all ports. All shipping lines are being banned from travel, including the Erns and the Priests. No ships from overseas are allowed into Sutherland.”

She scoffed. So they knew of Belcourt’s plans to bring in French soldiers. However, they were late for the party. The French were already here. And others more would come sailing as soon as Napoleon’s generals took over parliament.

“You should prepare for an attack. They’re attacking in eight days.”

“On the night of the Flower Ball.” Her jaw tightened. “Details?”

He smiled. “They’ve acquired help from active Soldiers. They’ll pass through the main gates, out in the open. They’ll go for the children first.”

She scoffed, shaking her head with a smile. “They’re quite predictable, aren’t they?”

“I’m guessing you already thought of this,” Tanner said, eyes filled with adoration.

“Of course,” she said. “I would not be High Priestess if I did not expect such obvious moves.” She downed her wine and stood, eyes locked with his. “Once Belcourt takes its place in the new Sutherland, I’ll pay you grandly for everything you’ve sacrificed for me.”

He smiled as she approached, turning on his chair so she could walk into his open legs. “I hope your gratitude will extend to my family. I’m also putting them in danger with what I’m doing.”

She allowed him to undress her. “Of course.”

“After all, I gave you Esther.”

She pulled him up and toward the bed. “And for that, I’m much grateful.”

He chuckled as they fell into the bed. “What do you plan to do with her?”

“Keep her locked in her tower, of course. Like a forgotten doll.”

He exposed one breast and feasted on it. Then he trailed kisses up her neck and jaw. “I’m quite surprised she’s still alive.”

“Oh, she very much is. Still hating on you for your betrayal.”

She felt him smile to her ear, his hands eagerly working on her dress. “Then you should keep her where she is.”

“I intend to. I don’t like murder for those I hate the most. I sleep soundly when they’re suffering.”

A small growl escaped him, then a chuckle. “Then will you spare me of my suffering tonight?”

Her hands worked on the fall of his breeches with a laugh. “Gladly.”

XXXV | Ten Days Later

The night was cold, the quiet of the forest interrupted by the arrival of the carriage that carried Ruby to the dock. With not much of a word, her fate set, two Soldiers led her to a schooner.

Sinhold. She had heard many things about it. Since they were children, they were told to fear it, and they did. Her legs were surprisingly steady as they climbed up the steps to the schooner. The Soldiers were quiet, so was the vessel.

They kept her down in the cargo hold, chained to the wall. She prayed, for that’s all she could do. She thought of her parents, how they chose faith over their love, and wondered why they even bothered. Would it save her now? She asked the God she was taught to believe what to hope for. Eternal peace and salvation? But what if she did not want those? What if she wanted to be free of the chains and see this through? What if she wanted to live the life she could have if she escaped this? Would it be wrong to ask for those instead?

A tear rolled down her cheek as she felt the schooner glide away from the dock. She waited and listened. Footsteps upstairs, orders from one Soldier to another, and more footsteps. It could have been hours of that, or it might have been an eternity. It felt like the latter. And as the sound of the vessel against water and wind became too familiar, they faded into the back of her mind and her thoughts took over once again. She had not done enough. She should have tried harder. Fear… if only she had less of it. If only she were brave enough to do more.

Her thoughts circled back to her parents and Sheridan. The life she wanted, and the things she wanted to try. And that’s when the body of a Soldier rolled down the steps, landing right beside her.

---

Wrapped in her green cloak, Gabrielle jumped behind one Soldier, wrapped an arm around the woman’s neck, and squeezed. The Soldier struggled until she slowly went limp. Not dead, but unconscious. Without a sound, she tied the Soldier and dropped her down toward the cargo deck before proceeding to the other side of the schooner, only to be met by two other Royals.

“There’s nothing here,” said one of them.

Gabrielle looked up at where Ellise St. Vincent was steering the schooner. Looking over her shoulder toward the direction of the other two schooners that were following them, both of which now under control of the Royals, Ellise St. Vincent stilled, as if a thought came to her. As she looked back down at Gabrielle, looking a little less sure, Gabrielle knew what the woman was thinking. This was too easy. Ellise then ordered, “Check below.”

Gabrielle walked down the steps to the cargo hold and found Ruby inside, wide eyed and close to panic. This schooner was supposed to be filled with more Soldiers because it was supposed to carry the High Priestess to Islefield. She went down on one knee and looked at Ruby. “Ruby, where’s Arielle?” she asked.

One Royal landed at the bottom of the stairs at the same time as Ruby shook her head in confusion. Gabrielle looked over her shoulder at the Royal. He cursed and whirled on his heels. Stalking up the steps, he shouted, “It’s a trap!”

Hearing the words from below, Ellise stiffened and looked ahead into the darkness, then to both sides.

Flaming arrows.

---

Esther was looking at her from across the room, face filled with suspicion. Brow furrowed, lips pursed, and arms crossed over her chest, the princess stared at her up and down. “If you ever do something I don’t like, you can say goodbye to that hole.”

Leila tightened the knot of the grey cloak around her shoulders and murmured, “Just hope that I’ll return.”

“Where are you going this time?”

“The Common Court,” she lied.

“And how long will you take?”

“Why?” she asked, raising her head to meet the woman’s eyes.

“Answer the question.”

“I don’t know,” she said, unsure why she hesitated to tell a lie. She would not be coming back, she thought. If her plans with Jade worked out, she would be out of Belcourt by midnight. She did not know how long it would take for her to get the Royal Circus’ help—if they were to help her at all.

“I don’t think you should go out tonight, child,” said Esther, looking out the window. “I just don’t think you should trust this Maiden you’re working with.”

“She’s all we have.”

And at that, she squeezed out of the hole without more complaints from Esther. Of course, she would let Leila go, despite what she thought. The woman wanted to escape just as much as she did. On the other side, Leila stopped.

“What are you waiting for?” Esther asked, picking up one brick. “Go.”

Leila blinked. She did not know this woman who had done many terrible things. She was the one who killed Albert. She wanted to take over Belcourt. Esther never hesitated doing those things, did she? So why did she feel like it was wrong to leave the woman here?

Leila shook her head. “Nothing,” she murmured under her breath. “I’ll be back.”

Downstairs, Asa was already waiting. With not a word between them, they traced the same path to the carriage that would take her straight to the Flower Garden. There, Jade would escort her to another vehicle that belonged to one of the flowers. And then she’d be free again.

Never had she thought that going out of Belcourt could be considered freedom.

The carriage finally pulled to a stop after it entered the Flower Garden. Leila peered over the window. The voice in her head whispered something was off. The garden seemed quiet. There were lights, but not as much as she thought a ball should have. And it was quiet. Too quiet, in fact.

No music as balls should have.

No other carriages.

Nothing.

Her heart began to hammer against her chest and she flinched when the door flung open and Asa appeared in her line of sight. “We should hurry, Your Highness, before the guests start arriving.”

The party had not yet started. She jumped from the carriage and she let Asa lead her through the garden, their steps quick. The Maiden’s hold tightened around her wrist and she had the urge to pull away, to turn around and run back to the tower. It was funny that she thought of Esther when the word ‘safe’ came to her. Maybe because the woman was indeed the safest place for Leila at the moment because this did not feel safe.

Something is about to happen , the tiny voice in her head warned, but she shook it off. She was desperate enough to get out. Jade must have cleared the place for her before everyone else arrived. That’s why there was no one else around, why there was no music.

Each step felt like a mile as they climbed the steps and walked through the corridors. By the time they reached Jade’s doors, Asa turned to her and looked down, face tight. “I will be here when you return, Your Highness. I will continue to serve you in your absence. Please always remember that.”

She opened her mouth, wanting to tell the woman that she changed her mind. Maybe they were wrong. Maybe there was another way out of this. But the door opened.

Jade smiled down at her. “Your Highness,” she said, stepping aside. “Please hurry. We do not have much time.”

When Asa’s hold loosened, Leila gripped hers tightly, not yet ready to let go. Jade gave Asa a reassuring smile. “You can come with her, my lady.”

Asa nodded, and together they stepped into Jade’s office.

They heard the lock turn and echo around the room.

“You should have told me you were planning a trip, Leila. You did not have to bother the Mistress of the Court of Flowers. And most of all, you should have not wasted a Maiden’s time,” Arielle’s voice spoke from behind Jade’s table. Jade walked behind Asa and Leila and stood beside Arielle, face unreadable, her loyalty suddenly perfectly clear to Leila. The new High Priestess veered her gaze to Asa, who had frozen in her spot, dread on her face. Then she sighed. “Now, what do I do with the two of you?”

---

West sat quietly on the carriage, hands relaxed around the reins. The carriage he was driving was one of nine that lined outside the gates of Belcourt, all of which were driven by Royals, the unsuspecting Gentlemen of Belcourt sitting inside, eager to go to the ball and be with their Belles.

When the gates opened and he led his carriage through the first gate, he could not help but think of the first day he came here. Then, he was ignorant of Belcourt’s true nature. What it hid behind its giant walls. The powerful women it kept inside.

He could not help but think of the things that happened after that day. The people he lost, the battles he won. The greatest of all was the woman who became his duchess and the son whose future he was fighting for.

They had planned for this night for days, all great minds from all sides coming together for this one mission that would stop a threat. All of them against one woman. His sister. The daughter of the same man that would retain his throne if all went according to plan. The daughter his mother died for.

After passing the second gate, the gentlemen alighted, greeting each other as they climbed into carriages Belcourt provided for them. West waited with the other drivers . One Soldier approached them, her eyes meeting his in silent understanding. Then she led them to the back of the Common Court, where all carriages and drivers were supposed to wait until all flowers were ready to leave for the night.

Without a word, the Soldier left them to return to the gates, willingly blind to what would happen next. West landed on the ground and entered the carriage. Baron Golding was unaware that his carriage had been reconstructed three days ago. Everything was the same, save for the seats. The cushions were untouched, of course, for a man always knew the feel of their carriage seats. What the baron did not know, of course, was that his seat hid a compartment.

West pulled the cushion up and smiled down at his wife. “Did you wait long?” he asked.

“It was not bad,” she retorted, allowing him to take her hand and guide her out. “It was surprisingly spacious. I never thought Baron Golding could sing. He should join the opera.”

He chuckled lightly because he should at least allow himself the liberty before they had to part and continue with their mission. When they climbed out, Caroline, Aliya, and the other women of Belcourt who left just months ago started to alight the other carriages as well.

Sharing a look with Greene, he pulled at his wife’s hand so she faced him. Cupping her face, he looked into her eyes. “Promise me one thing, Sasha,” he said, “Whatever happens, you leave this place alive. Don’t look back. Do you understand?”

She smiled, then nodded. “I promise.”

“You go back to our son. Do you understand?”

Again, she nodded. “And you’ll do the same.”

His jaw clenched. He would die for her. But then, he would also die for his son. And so he, too, nodded. Planting a chaste kiss on her lips, he turned and led the way to three Belcourt carriages. In one of them, Aliya’s sister, Delaney, jumped out wearing a green cloak. “We must go,” she said to West before she ran to her sister, carrying black cloaks she handed to Aliya. “Aliya, be careful. Please.”

“I will.”

Sasha and the others passed the black cloaks around and donned them. Aliya took her sister’s hand and squeezed before letting go to stand with Sasha and the others.

Delaney stared at her sister for a moment before taking a long breath, looking over her shoulder to where the other Royals had already climbed into the carriages, weapons hidden beneath their cloaks. The two other carriages were driven by Soldiers loyal to Theodora Vandenberg. “Fatima and the others will be here as agreed,” Delaney said before she turned and climbed behind the first carriage.

“Delaney, be careful,” Aliya called out.

Delaney’s smile did not reach her eyes. “I was a Soldier before I was a Belle, Aliya. I’ll be all right.”

West looked out the window he shared with Trent, Greene, and two other Royals as they rolled away, sharing one last glance with his wife before she turned and walked into the shadows to enter the Common Court with the others. Thirteen Belcourt women coming home.

They traveled the same miles he did a few times before. He knew the way to the Flower Garden and he smiled when Greene, sitting beside him, cursed at the sight of the lake. They passed by the Village, then the Court of Libraries, and Greene let out another curse. Trent shared a secret smile with West, both former Gentlemen of Belcourt witnessing their comrades act like little children in a new place, eyes wide at the new world they just discovered.

“What is it?” West asked when he noticed Trent frown and peer out the window.

“This is not the way to the Flower Garden.”

They fell quiet and the carriage immediately filled with tense air. All five hands went to their weapons.

“Be ready,” West said under his breath as Delaney led the carriage through a gate.

“The training ground,” Trent said, answering the question in everyone’s mind.

West pulled out his pistol. The others did the same.

They had stopped.

Delaney’s face was unreadable as she jumped out the carriage and walked over to join the two other Soldiers who had already drawn their weapons.

Then a dozen more Soldiers appeared and surrounded the three carriages. Leading them, of course, was Tanner Macmier wearing a smug look on his face.

“Good evening, my Royal friends,” he greeted. “If you’ll allow me, I’ll escort you to the High Priestess.”

XXXVI | Trapped

Ellise came down the deck with a sword in hand, her eyes determined. “We’re trapped,” she announced. “She’s not in any of the ships.”

The other two Royals joined them. “The schooner’s on fire.”

“We’ll have to jump.” Just as Gabrielle said it, they heard thuds from above. Feet landing on wooden planks.

Ellise’s gaze went to Ruby. “Do you know how to fight?”

Ruby could only nod. “But I don’t—”

“Good,” Ellise said, extending a pistol.

“I don’t know how—”

“Point and shoot.” Without another word, Ellise turned away and signaled for the two Royals, who understood her order and quietly made their way to the stairs landing.

Gabrielle saw her struggle and pulled her to a dark corner, whispering, “Stay here,” before she, too, crept away and disappeared into the shadows. Smoke was coming down through the cracks above them, slowly filling the deck. Ruby covered nose and mouth, pressing against the wall as the footsteps finally descended down the stairs.

Wide-eyed, she watched as one Royal jumped one Soldier from behind and dragged into the shadows. A slash, a gurgling sound. Two more Soldiers descended the stairs, but then stopped halfway. Ruby’s heart hammered against her chest as the Soldiers quietly retreated.

Smoke continued to seep through the floorboards from above as the fire continued to eat through the planks.

And then the door closed.

They were trapped.

---

Robert and Rider watched the burning schooners and cursed under his breath. The ship they were on was not fast enough, he thought. The fire was consuming the schooners faster than the wind could push them forward.

From behind, he could hear the captain of The Witch, Vanessa Lyndon, shout orders at her men. She had returned to Sutherland at Blackwood’s request. Or perhaps not. Having met the woman a few times, Robert had developed an impression that she was here for the thrill.

Jaw tight, he turned his back on the schooners, one of which carrying his future wife and child. He was certain they would reach them soon, but it was uncertain how many enemies they would have to fight. Uncertain if they had anyone to rescue at all.

The plan was to take over the schooners and take them to Islefield and get to the French. That was not quite possible now. He looked up at the deck to where one of the Royals stood, waiting for his orders. He nodded.

The Royal lit his arrow, turned around, and shot at the sky, sending the signal to the Vandenbergs waiting not far away. They failed. It was time for the alternate plan.

He rushed through the running and shouting crew of the ship, all of them looking quite excited than alarmed. Perhaps as crazy as their captain. All of them pirates feeding on danger and thrill.

It did not take him long to reach the guarded cabin. When he entered, the Soldiers they captured months ago, ten in this room, eleven more in another, were sitting quietly, all suddenly alert. They were not chained because Vanessa Lyndon was confident that her cabins were stronger than any prison cell. The windows were barred with metals, the doors with multiple locks.

Robert found the leader of the Soldiers in one corner, sitting stiffly and glaring at him with animosity. “Our offer stands the same,” he told them, eyes on Nora.

He saw Nora’s jaw tighten. And she said, “We will never join you.”

“Very well,” said Robert. “It’s such a loss. We were truly hoping you’d fight with us. No matter, we have found better use of you.”

---

“I hope that you will forgive us for doing this, my lady,” Sasha said to Lady Miranda, the Mistress of the Common Court, the woman who cared for them until their Courting Ceremony. The woman was silent, her brown hair in disarray after being roused from sleep and asked to gather all the children by the same women she reared as her own in the orphanage. “We’re doing this for the children.”

Lady Miranda had very little opinion on how Belcourt was ran. For the ladies who knew her, she had nothing but affection and concern for them. They felt her love when they had none to begin with. She prepared them for the service they had to give their home, but more so to be the women who recognized their own unique qualities.

But they so often forget that she was her own person. So when she looked at Sasha and Aliya with anger in her eyes and said, “My loyalty lies with the children, Sasha, and if this rebellion hurts one of them, I will never be able to forgive you. Any of you,” a shiver ran down Sasha’s spine.

She nodded and stepped back. “The Great Hall will keep you all safe,” she promised. “We will be here to keep you safe.”

Lady Miranda just looked at them with disappointment, then turned around to comfort the confused children. The night was still quiet. There was no sign of a fight, which was what they wanted. The children did not have to witness any of it.

Fatima came rushing to Aliya, eyes frantic. The woman was in tears as she embraced her former mistress. “How’s my boy?” she tearfully asked.

“He is well,” Aliya gently said. “Fatima, where’s Leila?”

“I don’t know, my lady. But I can find out.”

Aliya nodded then turned to Sasha. Caroline joined them and said, “We’re ready anytime.”

Sasha looked up at the giant clock on top of the doors. “Ten minutes.”

---

West’s hands were tied in front of him. Beside him sat Tanner. And across from them in the carriage were two Soldiers.

“I hope you do not mind, West,” said Tanner as the carriage drove down the uneven road to the Flower Garden. “Your sister is quite adamant to meet you in person.”

“To discuss my death?”

“No, of course not,” said his friend. “To discuss a negotiation.”

West looked out the window, at the lake that reflected the moonlight. It seemed only yesterday when Tanner insisted that there was a lake inside Belcourt. “What else is left to negotiate?”

“You will know once you meet her,” Tanner said. “Perhaps your mind with change. She is not as bad as the Vandenbergs make her to be.”

An acrid smile curled West’s lips. “I don’t know, Tanner,” he said, turning to face Tanner. “I’m not as gullible as you.”

Tanner only laughed. And as his laughter died, his gaze still locked with West, he scoffed. Shaking his head, he righted his coat and faced the forward.

And then they heard the first gong. Then he second. The two Soldiers in front of them reacted as expected. And in a breath, West and Tanner slid down the seat, knees raised to their chins, and landed two synchronized kicks on the two Soldiers before they could even raise their weapons.

West jumped across the carriage, wrapped his bound arms around the Soldier’s neck. Tanner did the same with his arm, and they both cursed as the Soldiers struggled against their choking hold. Wrapping their legs around both women, they waited for their bodies to go limp.

“I’m not gullible,” Tanner told him.

West shot him a quick smile. “You are. But that’s why you’re doing this.”

“You bastard,” Tanner said, grunting against the Soldier’s struggle. “You’re here because of me.”

West winced and tightened his hold around the woman in his hold when her elbow dug into his ribcage. “Your gullibility is your greatest asset, don’t you think?” he asked his friend.

Tanner just scoffed and shook his head, his arm bulging in his struggle. The two women lost consciousness almost at the same time. Not taking any risk, they tied them and gagged their mouths. Breathless, Tanner unbound West before he opened the carriage window and stealthily swung to the front of the carriage, surprising the driver. West followed from the other side to take over the reins as his friend grappled with the Soldier. Behind them, the other Royals were having the same success, the shouts of the Soldiers muffled by the series of gongs.

But sounding that gong had a few disadvantages. Sasha and Aliya said it would only buy them a short amount of time. None in Belcourt had ever heard the gong, all of them knew what it meant.

It meant the children were in trouble.

And when the children were in trouble, everyone would be set in motion, all aware of their tasks.

As soon as Tanner bound the driver, the Village lit up and ladies with lamps came running out of the exits. From afar, shadowed figures came rushing from all directions. The Library, the Palace.

But not the Flower Garden.

As West drove the carriage straight into the same place he knew too well, he noticed that despite the ball, the garden was empty. There was no sign of a Flower and their Belle. And there was not a sound. No music. No bright lights.

The Flower Garden was waiting for them.

Tanner grabbed West by the arm and guided him through the garden. “We don’t know what she has up her sleeves from this point,” his friend murmured under his breath. “There could be eyes everywhere.”

West looked over his shoulder. The other Royals had taken care of their carriage and the Soldiers.

And Tanner was right. They were not fools, but so was Arielle. The Soldiers sent to get them were too young and less experienced. The best ones could come anytime.

---

Leila looked out the window of the tower, the gong ringing in her ears.

“What does that mean?” Esther asked behind her.

A tragedy.

She could not even see the Common Court from here. But at that moment, she realized that she did not care.

Was this the end?

Asa…What did they do to her?

A tear escaped her eye. She hated crying. She hated Arielle. She hated that too many people had promised her security. And she hated that she was just a child.

Just a child.

Just as Ellise St. Vincent told her.

She was a pawn and she should have known that from the start. Arielle made her think her playhouse was safe while she played outside.

“What did she do to you?” Esther asked, stepping beside her, looking down at her with a frown. Was it concern? Of course not, Leila thought. This woman was just like the rest. She was playing a game to win.

“Nothing,” she said through gritted teeth.

“What does that sound mean?”

Leila turned around and climbed into bed. “You’re getting rescued.” Her words caught Esther by surprise. When she whirled around to face her, Esther’s eyes were round with hope.

“Then we have to be ready,” pacing around their little prison. “We have to take care of the Soldiers outside.”

Leila ignored her and buried herself under the covers. There was no way out, she thought. The Soldiers were outside guarding corridor. She closed her eyes against the gong, hoping it would stop. Wondering how the other children were.

This was all because of Arielle.

And Esther. The princess.

Even in real life, the princess had soldiers to rescue her.

And just like the fairy tales, the orphans suffered. Only in real life, there was no fairy godmother. Or magical horses that could fly. Only princes who wanted princesses. And witches and giants who ate children.

Esther kept pacing, murmuring to herself. Leila did not care what might happen now. Arielle could win and she could keep them here forever. Or she may lose and Leila would still have nowhere.

She wished sleep would come and dream would visit her despite the persistent gong. And in the dream, she hoped to be with Albert again. And Venus and their toys. And perhaps a mother. And siblings. Maybe they would look like Camila and Jamie. Even Mason.

And maybe a house by the sea. Or a cabin in the woods.

XXXVII | And Then Nothing

Esther was baffled. Why would the child sleep at a time like this?

The gong persisted in her ears to a point of irritation, but if it meant that Belcourt had been breached, hopefully by the Vandenbergs or the Royals, she would consider the bloody sound as the most beautiful music composed by man.

“We should be getting ready to leave,” she said, her voice just a whisper because she was still afraid that the Soldiers outside the doors could hear them.

But Leila remained unmoving.

Esther scoffed. She had given up.

She looked around and let out a shaky sigh.

And then she heard it. A very small sound. A soft screech.

She whirled around, heart to her throat.

Her eyes widened.

He was hanging from somewhere on the roof, swinging in front of the window with the most stupid grin on his face.

“Now, I know how you feel about windows, but we really don’t have a choice,” Leo whispered, reaching for the window frame to steady himself. “But I promise you, princess, this will be the last.”

---

Ruby tried her best to not shake in fear, but there was something in the air that made her flesh tremble. Fire and ashes and heat. The schooner was slowly being eaten, the floorboards crackling, seemingly laughing at their fate.

Earlier, they were forced to surrender. Ellise did it first. There was no point in hiding in the lower deck when it was clear that their only escape was to climb up the stairs and jump into the waters.

She was amongst heroes, not suicidal idiots.

But it felt like suicide. To surrender to the Soldiers who disposed them of their weapons and tied their hands before them, to be led up on the deck in a line, ordered to stop to watch the first boat from the ship not far away row toward them.

She stood between Ellise St. Vincent and Gabrielle. The two Royals were bound behind them, silent but alert. Ruby did not know why they had to stay in this burning schooner. There were others surrounding this one, all of them also filled with Soldiers. But it looked like they had to wait for the boat first.

She could not see further into the darkness of the ocean, could not tell if there were other boats. But as the first one approached and the silhouettes caught the light of the burning schooner, she was certain that there were more of them.

In front of the boat was another Soldier.

Nora , she thought. She was familiar with the woman, had encountered her in the Tea House numerous times. The proud Soldier with chocolate brown skin. That’s how she always described the woman. Because Nora was indeed proud. Perhaps the proudest of all. And she also knew that she outranked Gabrielle.

There was little knowledge of how the power dynamic worked within the Court of Arms. All Ruby knew was that they had ranks. And she knew that whoever held the highest rank in the room was the person in authority.

Behind Nora stood Robert Dior and Rider Fairborne. Ruby lost sight of them as they drew nearer to the burning schooner, but she could clearly hear Robert’s voice when he said, “Let’s make an exchange.”

Paulina, the leader of the Soldiers, stepped forward, her black hair blowing back, reflecting the fire in places as it moved. “And why would we do that?”

“Because we have twenty more Soldiers waiting to go home,” Rider Fairborne’s voice replied.

Ruby’s eyes skittered to the other Soldiers on the schooner. They did not make obvious motions, but they did move. Or rather—stiffened.

“We were wondering where our missing Soldiers were,” said Paulina. “But I think our Soldiers will understand if we choose to sacrifice them.”

“Choosing over twenty-one Soldiers over three Royals and two women from Belcourt?”

“Traitors. Traitors of Belcourt.”

There was a pause from below. And then, Robert said, “Then I’m afraid my Royals will also understand if we do the same. If you are not too blind, I believe you can see the canons of the ship all pointing at this schooner and the others around it. And I tell you, Soldier, that the captain is quite too eager to give out the order.”

One Soldier stepped forward and whispered something to Paulina. Then they both looked ahead to see another boat approaching them, this one carrying four more bound Soldiers.

“If they concede to giving back the Royals,” Gabrielle whispered to Ruby, “but they will kill us.”

Ruby shivered.

“Prepare to die or prepare to survive,” Ellise murmured under her breath.

“Nevertheless, you have to go,” Gabrielle said, eyes moving down to where Ellise’s hand rested on her abdomen. It took a moment for Ruby to realize what Gabrielle meant.

Ellise did not reply. Her eyes scanned the surrounding. “The two of you have to escape. Do you know how to swim?” She asked Ruby.

Ruby nodded, although she was not certain if she would be able to do that. She was bound and her dress was not particularly light.

Before she could ask Gabrielle how they would escape, Paulina spoke, saying, “We accept your offer. But first, we want the four Soldiers.”

Ruby frowned. “Why not Nora?”

Gabrielle scoffed and shook her head, as if she understood something only a Soldier would. “Because Nora outranks her.”

When the second boat finally reached the schooner and two Soldiers approached Ellise to take her away, the woman hurriedly said to Ruby, “Jump. Whatever happens, Ruby, Jump.”

Ruby’s heart thundered against her chest, climbed up her throat. She swallowed, hearing her own heartbeats in her ears. She gave Gabrielle a sideway glance. The woman looked utterly calm.

One Soldier was hauled up to the schooner and hastily unbound. The Soldiers took the other two Royals. One of them finally looked at Ruby and Gabrielle and Ruby wished he did not. It was as if he was saying sorry.

Her eyes welled with tears as the reality of the situation sank in. Of course, everyone would save their own in times like this. And she and Gabrielle was no one’s someone tonight. They were traitors. They were supposed to be punished.

“Now, we want the two women,” she heard Robert’s distant order. “And we’ll hand over the rest.”

Through her tears, Ruby saw another boat approach.

“They are Belcourt property,” Paulina said.

Ruby shuddered at the word. Never had she thought herself to be someone’s property. She was her own person. She was Ruby.

“Then should we remind you that you are standing on a burning schooner with canons pointing directly at you, my lady?” Rider Fairborne asked.

Paulina talked in whispers with another Soldier, stealing Gabrielle and Ruby a look, as if they she was haggling with a vendor over an item that should be sold for close to nothing.

“If they take us close to the deck,” Gabrielle murmured under her breath, “take a long breath and jump.”

“But—”

“Very well,” Paulina intoned. “Hand over Nora.”

“Don’t think. Don’t hesitate. Just jump and stay underwater,” Gabrielle said to Ruby.

“They will hand us over. They have no choice. They all have to abandon this schooner as fast as we should. The canons will—”

“She will never let us live,” Gabrielle hissed.

“Who?”

Gabrielle looked ahead. Nora finally emerged and landed on the schooner. “Her.”

The woman’s skin was almost the same shade as the fire. And her eyes were of the same color as they landed on Ruby, then on Gabrielle.

Two Soldiers pushed them closer to the deck. Ruby’s legs almost gave in, but she urged on, stumbling at her feet because she had to survive this. Her mother was waiting for her. Her father. And Sheridan. She promised she’d be back. And if she had to swim her way toward them, she would.

Many times, she had thought of doing brave things every time she imagined being caught. She imagined herself escaping with her wit and charms. She even imagined holding a weapon to defend herself. And each time, she came out victorious. But it was different when she was actually living the imagination. The bravery seemed farce, if not distant. She could not even feel angry for being weak or scared. She was just scared.

Paulina met Gabrielle with a smile. “I’m sorry that things have to come to this, Gabrielle. I’ve always admired your talents. You chose the wrong side.”

“Arielle is not our High Priestess,” Gabrielle said. “She’s using us all for her own selfish goals.”

“Of what? Siding with the French? And which side do you think will help Belcourt? The king? The Circus? Reginald? They’re all working together to destroy our home, Gabrielle. Arielle was right. They would do anything to remain or regain their power. They just didn’t realize we’re a few steps ahead.”

Ruby frowned in confusion. Gabrielle, however, was slowly realizing everything.

“We knew you went through the notes, Gabrielle. Have you forgotten that Soldiers are everywhere, hiding in the shadows? We were there in Islefield when you were handed over to your family. We were there when you sneaked out and went through the notes.”

“The French are not in Islefield.”

Paulina did not reply. She just shook her head and said, “I’ll let you go tonight because the lives of those Soldiers you left behind in that ship months ago is important to us. But be careful out there, Gabrielle. You’re only useful to them until you’re not. And when that happens, you’ll have no one and you’ll regret it the moment we catch up with you and deliver your just punishment.”

Then Paulina turned away and said to Robert Dior that she wants the rest of the Soldiers delivered to the nearest schooner.

“Once we receive Gabrielle and Ruby safely.”

Ruby heard Gabrielle take a deep breath as the Soldiers holding them urged them forward. A few paces away, Nora was being unbound by one Soldier, her eyes following Ruby and Gabrielle.

It happened in a flash.

In the haze of fire and smoke and green cloaks, Ruby did not see that Nora had grabbed Paulina’s sword and lunged to attack. Then she heard Gabrielle shout, “Jump!” before she realized the woman had unsheathed the sword of the Soldier holding her, turned around just in time to block Nora’s attack.

“Ruby, Jump!” Gabrielle repeated as she kicked Nora.

Without thinking, without looking back, Ruby jumped for her life.

---

“Row!” Robert shouted Ruby fell and disappeared into the water, followed by Gabrielle who dove perfectly head-first.

He looked up and saw Nora being tackled down by her fellow Soldiers. “Move aside, Paulina!” Nora ordered, pushing the leader of the Soldiers away. “Or you’ll answer to the High Priestess!”

“Nora—”

But Nora ignored her, assuming authority by shouting at the archers positioned above the deck. “Shoot!”

Ruby finally emerged from the water, gasping for air. Robert made a move to jump and rescue, knowing she was bound, but Ellise already dove in. “Bloody tarnation!” he shouted as he joined Rider to one side of the boat to force it to capsize. They jumped into the water and swam under the boat, holding on to the edges to keep it afloat, all the while using it to shield themselves from the onslaught of arrows from the burning schooner.

Rider let out an ear-piercing whistle and not long after, a canon was fired. As it landed on the burning schooner and all the Soldiers it carried, Robert shouted for Ellise before the blast caused a strong ripple, which propelled them away. And also threw into the surface the bodies from underneath. One of them was Ellise, who swam toward the boat, one arm hitching a lifeless body.

Rider had let go and swam toward Gabrielle who was struggling to keep her head above water.

The Soldiers who made the jump before the canon landed were also fighting for their lives, swimming toward the nearest and safest schooner, which was quite far. Soon, two more boats arrived, on guard with weapons to take care of any attack. Another approached them and hauled them up one by one. Rider was first, then Gabrielle who had an arrow sticking through her right shoulder blade. Then Ellise with Ruby, who had three arrows stuck on her back.

“Bloody hell,” Robert cursed under his breath as he waited for his turn.

Looking over his shoulder, he watched the Soldiers struggle to reach another schooner. There was nothing but fire on water and lives angrily scrambling in the dark ocean. Arms helped him up and his eyes immediately searched for Ellise. She was holding Ruby upright because they could not possibly pull out the arrows. It would merely cause more bleeding. In one look, he told the things he wanted to say. She risked her life again, but he would not talk about it. They entered this mess knowing they were courting death.

As the boat rowed back to the ship, Robert scrambled to his knees in front of Ruby. Behind her, Rider was urging Gabrielle to stay awake.

“Ruby,” he said, taking her hands. They were cold, but not because they were wet. “Ruby, stay awake.”

She blinked her heavy lids at him. Her face was white as the moonlight. She attempted a smile, but failed. “Robert,” she shakily whispered. “Are they safe?”

He nodded. “They’re together. They’re waiting for you.”

This time, she managed the strength to offer a grateful smile. “I’m not a very good swimmer.”

“You did great.”

“Did I?”

He clenched his jaw and nodded. “More than you know it.”

She breathed shakily, coughed, swallowed, and winced. “They’re waiting for me.”

“Yes,” he said, looking up at Ellise.

The reality dawned on them before they were even willing to admit it. They failed tonight. Arielle was not here. She was never ever going to Islefield.

“I don’t think I can make it, Robert,” Ruby said in a word barely a whisper. He tightened his hands around her. All the while, guilt consumed him. He should have taken her with them. He should have not listened to her. He should have just risked it.

“Yes, you can,” he said, although he could sense that Ellise disagreed with him. In her mind, she must be thinking he was giving the woman false hopes. But that’s the difference between them. He would rather lie to give Ruby a reason to fight. He looked ahead and realized the captured Soldiers were being hauled back onto the ship. And they were near. They were almost there. “We have someone who can help in that ship. You will be all right.”

Ruby shook her head and swallowed. Blood seeped through the corner of her lips. “You need to go back to Belcourt, Robert,” she said. “Save them. Please.”

“I will. Once you’re safe.”

“I’m safe now…” Her voice faltered as she looked around her. “This is my Sinhold.”

“No,” Ellise stonily said. “There is no Sinhold. Not for you or for any woman of Belcourt.”

Ruby just smiled. “Tell my mother and Sherry I’m sorry,” she said. “For making them wait.”

He shook his head. “Ruby…”

Her head lolled forward and he caught her.

Her last breath brushed against his neck.

And then nothing.

XXXVIII | Brother

If she was not desperate to escape, and if he was not grinning at her like a bloody fool that he was, Esther would have thought she was dreaming. A part of her thought this could not be real. Climb out the window—again? But she did. He forced her to after giving her only two options: stay or climb.

It took a while to convince Leila. No, in fact, Esther almost knocked her out when she refused to go with them. “Do you think me insane to leave you here to die? You are no High Priestess if you stay here and let that wench have control over everything.” she had hissed at the child before pulling her out of bed.

And while Leo, his rope hanging from somewhere up on the roof, tied Leila with another rope someone unseen dropped from above, Esther shook her head. She looked over her shoulder in the direction of the door. Anytime, it could open. Anytime, they could be found out. And here she was, risking her own precious life for her brother’s child. The brother their own mother ordered to be killed. The same one who was planning to commit treason. God only knew what Albert told this child, what his plans were for this child. But as bad as she was, Esther would dare not let a child die. Later. She would think about what to do with Leila later.

When Leila was out of sight and another rope was dropped, Leo grinned at her, holding out his hand. Why was he here rescuing her? What happened? Where was her mother? Did he even know what he was doing? Esther shook the questions out of her head and reached for his hand.

There was another man on the roof. Another Royal. He gave them cloaks that would help cover their escape. A gray one for Leila and a black one for her.

“Now, princess, I know you hate my escape plans,” Leo said, pointing with his hand. “But do you see that tree?”

Esther followed the line of rope that ran from the roof to the said tree and shook her head. “Leo, you bastard. You can’t—”

“Hang on to this,” he said, addressing both her and Leila, tapping a bow-shaped handle perched on the rope. “Then do not let go. Fret not, you’ll have a rope around your waist so you don’t fall to your death in case you are too weak to hold on.”

Her brow twitched. “Too weak?” she and Leila gritted out.

He shrugged, turning to Leila. “But first, the child.”

“I am not—”

“You are a child.” This time, she and Leo chorused.

Esther was itching to escape. She should be first, she thought. She had already done Leila enough favor by taking her with them. But what if there were enemies waiting on the other side?

So she allowed Leo to strap Leila to the line, and held her breath when the child was pushed away.

“Where is she?” she asked when Leila disappeared through the crown of the tree.

“We can only pray,” Leo said, grinning at the look of horror on her face. “Your turn.”

“No, you go first. This could be a trick.”

He grumbled something under his breath and turned away. He went without another word, leaving her with the Royal. She watched and waited as he disappeared in the same tree Leila did. Then he poked his head out and waved in her direction.

It had never been easy for Esther to put her life in someone else’s hands. Apart from her mother, of course, because the queen always knew what was best.

But Leo had not yet failed her. Yes, he tricked her before. Fooled her. But he had not yet put her in harm’s way.

With a sigh, she stepped forward and allowed the Royal to secure a rope around her waist, giving it a heavy tug before handing her the bow-like handle. “Hang on to this,” he said. “Are you ready?”

She did not know him. For a second, she wanted to know why he was doing this. Why he was here, risking his life for this. What was he to gain?

Too many questions. She should stop, really. And she did. Without a word to the Royal, she nodded, eyes on the tree. She did not know what waited for her on that side. But she knew what waited for her behind the door of the chamber they just escaped from. For the first time, she was choosing the unknown.

---

Arielle waited in the hall of the Flower Garden, wrapped in her velvet cloak. Behind her were the Maidens, all of them wary, for certain, but also blindly following her orders. Just six of them. Asa had already proven that she did not deserve her cloak.

The Royals entered the hall just as she expected and she smiled when her eyes landed on Tanner. The fool. He thought he outsmarted her. For a moment, he did. Well, perhaps he did most of the time. But these men should have known that Belcourt ladies knew how to survive. Belcourt took what they could from anyone, including men. And Tanner was just one of them.

Her eyes jumped to West Blackwood, her brother by blood. The lucky child simply because he had a different father. She had seen him from afar many times, knew his voice, even the way he walked. She had captured him and his friend, seen him bound and gagged. She talked to him before she ordered for his death, but she had never had the opportunity to have him really look at her. To see her.

Did he despise her? Was he curious? Was he disappointed that he never got to her through Sasha?

“Good evening, gentlemen,” she greeted.

They stopped when the Soldiers appeared from where they were hiding behind the columns that surrounded the hall. The Belles were not here because they had a different mission. Arielle could only wish the ladies could witness all these men be humbled in their beloved court.

“Are you surprised to find me here?” she asked, eyes on her brother. She could still not read him. His face was bare of emotions. The Soldiers moved in position, surrounding the Royals. “Hello, Tanner. I was hoping you would return and stand by my side. But that seems to not be the case.”

Tanner smiled wanly and shrugged. “I had to make the hard choice, darling. Brother or sister? Sister or brother? As you can see, I chose the brother.”

She scoffed, gaze never leaving West’s. “How is Sasha, West Blackwood?”

Instead of giving her the satisfaction of an answer, he said, “Other Royals are surrounding this building, Arielle. I suggest you surrender to us before more blood is spilled.”

“You dare enter my home and expect me to leave it for you to invade? Would you do the same if I sashay into Everleigh and demand that you leave the care of your child and his home to me?”

“You are using your so-called home to side with the enemies of the kingdom, if not the world. By doing so, you’re not just putting Belcourt on dangerous grounds, but the entire kingdom as well.”

“I don’t care what happens to the kingdom. As far as I’m concerned, Belcourt is never a part of anything. We never were. Are we not the unwanted children of your so-called kingdom?”

Finally, she got something. His jaw tightened and something crossed his eyes. Remorse? Pity? Well, she did not want those. Belcourt did not feed on charity.

“Tell Reginald and Louis that their reigns are over. It’s time for a new era.”

A long silence followed her statement. All the while, she never broke eye contact. But West Blackwood did. His eyes went over her shoulder to address the Maidens. “You would not want to put the children through this,” he said.

“Anything you wish to say, you direct it to me. They answer to no one but me, West Blackwood.”

“You are not even the High Priestess,” Tanner said.

“I am after the previous one has been proven to be incapable.”

“You mean you are after you stole the role.”

Her eye twitched and she snapped her gaze toward Tanner. The corner of her mouth lifted in a sneer. “I was her regent.”

“By her appointment?”

“Of course.”

“Then it must have been child’s play for you.” Tanner let out a chuckle and, with a mocking amused look on his face, looked at the Maidens. “You’re quite a player, after all. You manipulated me and all these grown women, all of us capable to think until you played your tricks on us.” He turned around to sweep his gaze at the Soldiers surrounding them. The women answered by raising their weapons. “All these accomplished women and no one questioned you. Bloody hell, even Louis could not make the entire House of Lords bow to his commands.”

The gong had stopped, and it took a while for anyone to notice. Her eyes went to the wide opening of the hall, over the walls at the distant sky. The Royals did the same, and seeing the look of alarm on West Blackwood’s face, she smiled. “Is Sasha in the Great Hall?” she asked. He turned to her, and she shrugged. “I knew you will come for the children first.”

The smile on Tanner’s face had disappeared. Arielle let out a long, bored sigh. “Fret not, we take care of our own. I made sure the Belles took out all the children and leave everyone else inside to burn.” She let her shoulders drop in mock pity. “It will take us some time to rebuild the Great Hall. The new one shall have a history for the future children to learn. It would be standing on ashes of the Royal Circus, after all.”

Finally, she saw something more powerful than pity in his eyes. Fury. Desperation. Love. All for one woman.

“In case you have not realized, Arielle, we’re holding pistols,” Tanner said. “Your Soldiers are wielding swords. This fight shall not take too long. And oh, yes, you’ll not just be facing the Royals tonight. Unlike you, we make use of our enemies.”

Her brow arched. “I am not falling for your tricks, Tanner, dear. We’re past that stage.”

“Oh, but I’m not,” said Tanner. He turned to West Blackwood, who added, “The king sent his Royal Guards along with the Vandebergs and their men.”

Her eyebrow twitched. Behind her cloak, her hand clenched into a fist.

“Oh my,” she said with feign delight, stepping forward. “My brother is here. My sister is somewhere in a tower. And you are telling me that my father is also on his way here? This is a grand family reunion.” She took two more steps. “Very well. Why don’t we wait together? I have something to show you, after all. Will you walk with me?” She was not asking all of them. Her eyes were just on West.

His men looked at him, waiting for orders. His light blue eyes, which looked very much like hers, studied her for a few breaths. Then he gave the tiniest nod and turned halfway to give way.

Her back straight, she walked through the Royals and out to the garden. The Maidens and the Soldiers made a move to follow, but Arielle motioned for them to stay. The Royals did the same.

“Walk with me, West Blackwood.”

He did. He stepped right beside her. Their shadows before them could be anything. Friendly strangers on a stroll. Brother and sister.

But they knew they could never be those. They were enemies. He was here to take her home. She was here to witness him lose his.

“I heard you have an heir. Congratulations,” she said, eyes on the smoke that slowly rose to the sky in the distance. The Great Hall was burning, a sign of her retaliation against her enemies. A sign of her triumph.

She wondered what he could be thinking. Arielle was certain Sasha was inside that Great Hall. The traitor would have wanted to be a part of this great battle. Pathetic. She should have stayed behind with her son.

“Belcourt could work with us, Arielle,” West Blackwood said. “It does not have to be this way. As your brother, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

“It’s more complicated than that.” She paused, blankly staring down at their shadows. Arielle was waiting, too. “I’m tired, you see.”

“Then talk to us. Let us reach an agreement. Everything’s over. We already have a list of the men who had been working with you. Louis’ men are on their way to capture them. Belcourt is all you have now. Don’t ruin it.”

She shook her head and continued walking. Across the driveway. Toward the threshold of the Flower Garden. Then she stopped in the middle of the empty road to watch the lake not far away.

“Do you think she had ever thought that we would someday be together like this?” she asked with a bitter smile on her face.

“I’m certain she wanted it to be different.”

“Of course, not. She knew the consequences of her actions. Of all the people she could play with, she chose the husband of the then High Priestess.”

West looked over at the Great Hall. “Her only sin was to love the wrong man.” Then he turned to her, eyes boring into hers in a way that made her a little uneasy. “And leaving you here.”

She looked away. “She had no other choice.”

“If she knew who the High Priestess was, she would have never stepped foot in this place again.”

Arielle shrugged. “Well, it’s rather too late to debate on the matter. The woman is dead. And you will be, too, if you don’t pull your men out of Belcourt.”

“What do you want, Arielle?” he asked, voice almost desperate. He must be in a hurry to save his wife, she thought.

“I want all of you gone,” she said. “I want Louis gone. Reginald gone. I want the Vandenbergs gone.”

“You’re doing this because you feel abandoned.”

“I may be an orphan, but I never felt abandoned. As much as I hate Louis, Albert saw me for what I am. He treated me with respect. He saw me as his sister. He made me a Maiden. Don’t get me wrong, West Blackwood,” she said with a laugh. “I never desired to be a part of anything other than Belcourt. And you’re all trying to take that away from me. First, you took away Albert. Then this.”

“We would not if you are not feeding the entire kingdom to the enemies.”

“I’m simply playing the game all of you have been playing for years, West Blackwood. As I understand, there’s no rule against anyone outsmarting anyone. Albert was right. This kingdom is rotten. He knew what his family had to do to climb to power, and he was done with that. It’s not Belcourt who’s been feeding the kingdom to the enemies—it’s the king. He has been sending soldiers to die in a war we never even wanted.” She lifted her chin with a smile. “The world will never survive Napoleon. Unless we’re on his side. You have no place here in Belcourt, West Blackwood. Belcourt only welcomes allies.”

She took a step back when they heard the sounds of hooves approaching.

She smiled at her brother, then at the Royals who came running from the Flower Garden. “That does not sound like your men, does it?” Tilting her head to the side, she narrowed her eyes. “Nor the Vandenbergs. Or the Royal Guards.” When they turned to face the army of men approaching them, Arielle allowed a very satisfied smile. “They sound French, don’t they?”

XXXIX | Mother

“Is this truly the only way?” Lady Miranda, the Mistress of the Common Court, asked, her brown searching Sasha’s for answers. “Should the children suffer for this fight, Sasha?”

Her jaw tightened, but was not able to provide an answer as Caroline approached them. “The Belles are here.”

“Lady Miranda,” Aliya said as she faced the doors, “I’ve always believed that your loyalty doesn’t lie solely on Belcourt, but with the children. Without you, we would have never felt we have a home here. We believed in you because we felt your love. You molded us to be capable women. Not our courts, but you, our mother in the Common Court. And with much respect, we’re asking you to do something selfless again. Please do this one thing for us. Keep the children safe.”

“Sasha, we know you’re inside!” Jade’s voice said from behind the giant doors of the Great Hall. “Bring the children out now.”

Sasha did not reply. When they entered Belcourt, they knew anything could happen. Even now, she could not tell if West and the others were successful. But she could only hope that something went right.

“Let us talk this out, Sasha,” Jade said from the other side. “Let us not involve the children.”

Aliya turned to her. Caroline did the same.

“Think fast, Sasha, before you all burn down to ashes.”

Above, smoke clouded the ceiling. The Great Hall was made of bricks, but the ceiling was all timber.

“Sasha?” Aliya asked.

She moved closer to the doors. “Stand beside me, Caroline,” she said. When the woman did, Sasha turned to Lady Miranda. “You know what to do, my lady.”

“But Sasha—”

“As we planned, take the children to the lake, my lady,” Sasha faced the door again. “You do not have much time. Go.” Lady Miranda reluctantly nodded and turned away.

“Do you think it will work?” Aliya asked Sasha.

“I cannot promise it will, but I hope it does.” She looked up at the gathering smoke above them.

Caroline nodded and drew in a long breath. “I hope she gathered enough Soldiers here.”

“In Belcourt,” Aliya said, stepping to Sasha’s left side, “everyone runs toward the children.”

Sasha checked the ceiling again. “It’s time.” She turned to the other women who had been guarding the door and nodded. They pulled at the iron chains that lifted the bars that barred the doors. Two women pulled the doors open, revealing Jade and other Belles. And from both sides, dozens of Soldiers rushed in.

The smile Jade had on her face froze when she realized what was happening. Her eyes scanned the Great Hall. “Where are the children?” she demanded.

Sasha looked up just in time to see more Soldiers gathered by Theodora Vandenberg drop from ropes and surround the other Soldiers, trapping them inside the Great Hall, moving in a giant circle, waiting for someone to make the first strike.

“They were here twenty minutes ago, but we had to send them to somewhere safe, Jade,” Caroline said.

Jade’s eyes landed on Caroline and twitched. Her lips curled in a sneer as she stepped back. “Close the doors!” she shouted at the Belles behind her.

“I don’t think that’s possible, Jade,” Sasha said.

Jade looked over her shoulders at the Belles. “Ladies,” she said. The Belles pulled out their swords and advanced into the Great Hall. “You’re not getting out of here. Tell us where the children are now.”

“Not if you step aside and let us leave,” Sasha said.

“And why would I?”

“Because this fight is not between us. This is for Belcourt.”

Jade laughed. “You’ve grown quite funny, Sasha. The mere fact that you entered Belcourt and threatened our children means the fight is between you and all of Belcourt.”

Sasha let the silence linger for a few seconds. She watched Jade’s gaze jump back to Caroline, then at Aliya, then back at her. “She’s using you, Jade,” Sasha said. “Why do you think she saved you?”

“The High Priestess saved me because she believed in me.”

“After going behind her back? After working with Esther to kill Prince Albert?” Sasha asked. “Jade, what Arielle did was manipulate you. She is manipulating you. She saved your life and made you think you gained redemption. One you have to pay for with blind loyalty. Don’t you see it?”

Jade shook her head. “What I see, Sasha, is you manipulating me.” She scoffed. “I am not falling for your trap.”

“Are you doing this for the children, Jade? Or are you just doing this for yourself?”

“I have no selfish reasons, Sasha.” Jade moved forward, so did the Belles, pushing Sasha and the others back. Theodora’s Soldiers were not enough to protect them from the Belles. They had their hands full with the other Soldiers in the center of the Great Hall. And although the Belles were not as adept to weapons as the Soldiers, they were still trained.

Should a fight ensue, Theodora’s Soldiers would have their hands full with their fellow Soldiers, leaving Sasha and the others to deal with the Belles on their own without weapons. But the only way to deal with Jade was to talk. Use the woman’s desires against her. Keep her out and keep the fight from happening until more help arrived.

“Do you?” she asked, looking Jade in the eye. “Have no selfish reasons? You have no plans to kill us here and then perhaps comfort those who lost us? Trent Durham for one?”

The woman’s eyes flared with fury. “You can’t provoke me, Sasha. I would rather die here with you than find myself bedding that man again.” Her eyes jumped to Caroline and she sneered. “I’ve used him too many times than I could count, darling. I don’t think I’ll ever find myself in need of him in the next life.”

“The feeling should be mutual,” Caroline said. “He’s been saying the same thing.”

Jade shook her head and started to move back and Sasha moved forward, but the Belles stepped in front of her.

“They’ll be here soon, Jade,” Aliya said.

Jade smiled and continued stepping back. “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll be just outside the door waiting.” Her eyes lingered on Caroline as she added, “I wish to personally have Trent Durham on his knees. Begging me for your life, Carol.” And as she turned away, she said to the Belles holding off Sasha and the others, “Summer, you’re in charge. Be strong, ladies. Help will be here soon. Stand your ground. This is all for Belcourt.”

Four Belles exited with Jade and locked everyone else inside. Sasha slowly let out a sigh of relief. Then her eyes landed on Summer and the other Belles. Jade left most of the younger ones here. They did not know much about the outside world yet. They only knew what Belcourt told them. Ruby already did that through the papers. Sasha would only have to give them more reasons to doubt.

---

Esther was crouched behind an empty carriage outside the burning Great Hall. Leila stood stupefied, the glow of the fire reflected on her face as she watched on. Leo was peering out the side of the carriage, as if waiting for something. The two Royals were doing the same from the other side.

“We should light the fireworks,” one of the Royals said to Leo.

Esther turned to Leo. “What fireworks?”

“A signal for the others outside Belcourt,” said Leo.

“Signal for what?”

“That we need help.”

“And who will help us?”

“I’m certain Royals will. However, I do not know about your side of the family.”

She gritted her teeth. “I thought you had a very solid plan.”

“Darling, in war, no plan is solid. You just have to have multiple ones.”

“And how many do you have?”

He grinned at her. “Quite a lot, to be honest. I only know what I have to do. We’re doing our part. I don’t know about the others.” He turned to the two Royals. “Nevertheless, we have to send the signal and hope Darcy will know what to do. We can’t stay here.”

“Where are we going?”

He looked at the burning Great Hall. “As far as I know, fire was not a plan. We have to know what’s happening.”

Esther frowned at him. Then her eyes widened. “Did you bring the children here?”

Leila’s head snapped toward Leo. “You trapped them inside?”

“Well, not really. We have a different plan where to take them. Obviously, someone else trapped them inside—”

“You cannot be utterly serious!” Esther hissed.

Leo sighed. “We do not have time for this,” he said, pointing at Leila. “You, child, will stay with the princess.” He looked at Esther. “You make sure you stay behind us.” He turned to one Royal, who nodded after he drew out his pistol. Leo was holding one as well. “Run,” Leo whispered before sprinting across the ground toward the Great Hall. One Royal stayed behind to light the fireworks.

“Left,” Leila said behind Leo. “There’s an entrance to the left that will lead to the hall.”

They followed her direction. Turned left. Then right. Then ran straight and encountered a problem. They skidded to a stop. At least ten women in black cloaks were facing the giant doors of the Great Hall. “Servants,” Leila whispered behind Leo. Someone in front was pleading for someone to open the doors.

“Jade,” Esther added, hearing the familiar voice in front of the doors. Seeing the Servants were unarmed, she moved past Leo and rushed through the crowd. He pulled at her arm to stop her, then continued forward, keeping her and Leila behind him.

“What is this commotion?” Leo cheerfully asked, brows raised as if in innocent confusion. The Servants around them stepped back warily, but one of them moved forward and said, “Your Highness.”

She did not address Leo, nor was she looking at Esther. She was staring directly at Leila. The other Servants instantly knew what she meant.

However, Jade was in total control. With five armed Belles behind her, the woman looked away from Leo and then at Esther. Her lips curled into a smile. “Princess Esther,” Jade greeted. “I was not expecting to see you here. I was waiting for someone else.”

“You know each other,” Leo interjected, blocking Jade’s view of Esther. “Good. Did she try to kill you before? I wouldn’t be surprised if she did. Esther used to do that.”

Jade’s face turned red. “And who are you?” There was no question she knew who Leo was, but she wanted him to feel unimportant.

“Leo Stanhope. My father loves to put ‘prince’ before the name, but I’ve long dropped that out. I was once a Flower here, you know,” Leo said. Then he nodded toward the door. “How are the children?”

“Safe somewhere,” Jade said. Esther hoped she was telling the truth. “However, I cannot say the same for the wives of the Royals.” She craned her neck to meet Esther’s gaze. “You should join them, Princess.”

“I’m afraid the princess is currently indisposed,” said Leo, raising his arm to point the pistol at Jade. “Open the doors.”

“Not until I’m certain Sasha and the others have been dealt with. It shall not be long, I promise.”

The Royal standing behind Esther and Leila stepped forward and raised his weapon as well. The Belles moved with their swords at the ready.

“Take them away,” Jade ordered the Servants. “I’m telling you, ladies, the children are no longer here!”

The Servant who recognized Leila took her by the arm. “Please come with me.”

“I don’t—”

“I’m Mason’s mother,” she cut in, her words giving Leila pause. “We’ll keep you safe.”

Leo looked over his shoulder at the Servant. His eyes met Esther’s, then traveled around the harmless Servants. “Go with them, then take Leila away and hide somewhere safe.”

Esther hesitated, but nodded when she heard more footsteps coming from down the hall. Soldiers?

“Go. I’ll find you shortly,” Leo said before he faced Jade again, saying, “I’ve heard many crazy things about you, darling.”

Esther hesitantly allowed the Servants to lead them away. Shortly after, she realized they had entered the orphanage. “We need to hide them somewhere,” the Servant holding Leila’s hand said.

“Fatima, the Soldiers are on their way!” answered one woman, eyes frantic as she looked around.

Fatima tightened her hold around Leila’s hand. “This way, Your Highness.”

They entered a dark corridor lined with doors. “How do we know you’re not leading us to the enemies?” Esther asked.

Leila looked at her with warning. “They’re not.”

“How do you know—”

“I know her,” said Leila. “She’s Mason’s mother.”

“Who’s Mason?”

Leila ignored her, not slowing down as they ran down the corridor. “Spread out and gather more help!” Fatima ordered the others, which they did. Others turned around to run back down the corridor.

“This way,” Fatima breathlessly said, pulling Leila into a room. It was tiny, with two beds inside. Outside, they heard footsteps running after them. A cry of horror followed by lithe footsteps. “Under the bed,” Fatima ordered Leila. When Leila hesitated, she pushed the child down on the ground and forced her under the bed. Esther did not waste time. She crawled after Leila and they both lay there, flat on their stomach. “Don’t come out. Whatever happens, don’t come out.”

Esther realized the woman was holding a dagger before she stood and walked to stand beside the door.

“Quiet,” Esther heard her whisper.

They may not be speaking, and no words may be coming out of their mouths, but there was no quiet in the room. Every sound seemed to intensify. Their breathing, their heartbeats. Esther closed her eyes and blindly searched for Leila’s hand as the footsteps came.

Doors were being opened and shut. Distant cries from down the hall. They were searching the place. Screams. Shouts. Footsteps.

And finally, the door to their room opened, hiding Fatima behind it. A Soldier walked in. Esther prayed she would look inside the room and find it empty. But no, she walked in and sauntered to the other bed. She bent down and looked under.

Then the door closed.

Fatima.

The Soldier did not expect the attack. She dropped her sword, and it cluttered near Esther’s leg. Fatima struggled with the Soldier, attacking the woman from behind, but the Soldier was stronger and more experienced. She tackled Fatima down on the ground while Esther, with no time to waste, grabbed the sword and crawled out from under the bed. The Soldier saw her and got distracted, but was too late to move. Esther swung the sword to the side, slicing the side of the Soldier’s neck. In two steps, she kicked the woman off Fatima, followed as she stumbled back, and stepped above her before stabbing her in the chest.

Panting, eyes wide, hands beginning to shake around the sword, she waited until the Soldier went limp. She pulled out the weapon and turned to Fatima. “Don’t move,” she hastily ordered, kneeling before the Servant. They both looked down at the dagger stuck in her abdomen.

Fatima’s breathing became heavier as she swallowed and grunted in pain.

“What happened?” Leila’s voice asked.

“Stay there,” Esther snapped at her, standing to rush to the door to lock it. When she went back to Fatima, Leila had already crawled out.

“You’re wounded,” Leila said, frowning at Fatima’s own dagger. To Esther, she said, “What do we do?”

Esther did not know what to do. Where could they get help in a place where everyone wanted them dead?

“It’s fine,” said Fatima. “You’re safe here. They will go to the Great Hall to assist with the fight. Once everything is silent, you find help.”

Leila shook her head. “But you’re not well. We need to find someone.”

“There’s no one.” She grabbed Leila’s hand, hers covered in her own blood. “Get out of Belcourt, Your Highness, and go back to the St. Vincents. Tell Mason I love him.”

Esther turned to Leila whose eyes were filling with unshed tears. “No. You tell him yourself. H-He’s been waiting for you.” Her voice cracked as her shoulders shook in tears. Esther’s jaw tightened. This child, who had been too full of pride, had finally broken down. “He’s waiting for his mother,” Leila told Fatima. “You cannot die.” Anger ignited in Leila’s eyes. “I order you not to die, woman.”

But Fatima merely sobbed, her shoulders shaking as she did, choking in her own tears of desperation and longing. “T-Tell him to never be afraid of the sea because I’ll always be with him. Tell him that. Get out of here and tell him that.”

“N-No. You tell him that yourself—” Esther reached out for Leila. When the child looked at her with confusion in her eyes, face covered with hopeless tears, she squeezed Leila’s hand.

Leila shook her head, tears trailing the air. “No. Mason… Mason needs you.”

“He needs a family,” Fatima said. “And he already has one.”

“Stop talking. You’ll live!” Leila hissed. “You cannot leave him. He’s waiting. You promised him. Live!”

Esther looked up to stop her own tears. Everything that happened, since she learned of Albert’s treason, the deaths that followed, finally came crashing down at her, gaining weight, pulling her down in a dark, cold place.

She did not even know this woman, did not even know her son. Someone she just killed was lying in a pool of blood behind her, so why was she bothered by Fatima’s inevitable death? They should leave and find a safer place, but here they were, crying in a small dark room that belonged to two unknown orphans.

“No. Live. Live…”

Falling back, Esther hugged her knees and bent her head as Leila continued to sob, pleading with Fatima to live. To see her son.

There was nothing to do now.

Nothing but more waiting.

XL | Children

West looked across the carriage at Trent. There were four Soldiers sitting inside with them, all armed and sitting in all corners of the carriage. Tanner and the others were also inside, the other carriages rolling behind them.

His eyes darted toward the Great Hall. Trent did the same. Their wives were inside that burning edifice. But there was hope, he thought. If the children were able to make it out alive, then it meant the first part of their plan worked. However, something must have gone awry.

This could all be Arielle playing a mind game. The hall could be empty. Perhaps Sasha and the others could have escaped.

West bent his head, convincing himself that Sasha would have had a plan. And that he himself had to find a way out of this.

One thing was certain: they could not reach the dungeon. Sasha told them it would be very difficult to break out of that place.

If Arielle would be believed, West and his men would be dead by morning.

His jaw tightened as he closed his eyes. Just like that night he learned that Sasha had been captured by Belcourt, he prayed. He prayed for the children. For his son. His wife.

He prayed for the Royals outside Belcourt.

And he prayed Darcy could come up with a plan.

“Where are we going?” At Trent’s question, West looked up. None of the Soldiers answered. He looked out the window and realized they were headed to the Village.

Confused, West shared a look with Trent. This was not the way to the dungeons. A group of French soldiers passed them, all of them on horseback. West did not miss the look on one Soldier’s face. Her lips pursed and her hand tightened around her sword. These women did not like having outsiders within Belcourt. And apparently, that included the Frenchmen.

“What is going on?” West finally asked when the carriages drew to a stop outside the northern gate of the Village. The Soldier to his right extended her arm to stop him from moving while one Maiden descended from the carriage in front of them. She stopped just outside their carriage and waited patiently while the four Soldiers guided West and Trent out. The gate into the Village was closed and guarded, but not by Soldiers. Four women wearing black and green cloaks were standing inside the iron gates, all holding weapons.

Facing the Maiden, West frowned.

The oldest of the Maidens looked over her shoulder where the other five ladies wearing purple cloaks lined up. Facing him, the older woman looked up at him. “We are only doing this to save Belcourt.” Her eyes scanned the Soldiers that were also guiding the other Royals toward them. “Arielle is not the rightful High Priestess. It had gone this far because we blindly followed her.” She closed her eyes, as if to close off the reality that she was living in. “I do not know how it came to this. We did not know she was inviting those men here.” When she opened her eyes, her gaze held West’s again. “We are choosing the lesser evil by helping you. You shall not face resistance from us from now on. Whatever you need to take her and those Frenchmen from here, we shall give it to you. And in return, we demand that you do not forget how we spared your lives.”

“The Circus has no desire to destroy Belcourt. Like you, we were also forced to work with the lesser evil to save Sutherland. And one way to do so is saving Belcourt from Arielle.”

The Maiden slowly nodded. She turned her head toward the gate. “We need to gather as many Belcourt women as we could. And we need to safely escort the children out of that lake. The Village is the best place to regroup. As long as we can protect it, we have control of all of Belcourt’s supplies—food, drink, clothing.”

West shared a look with Trent, and then Tanner and the other Royals. Looking back at the Maiden, he nodded. “I’ll need to meet the leaders.”

The Maiden allowed a faint smile. “I’m afraid we do not have everyone here. The Mistress of the Court of Library and Service are inside. The Mistress of the Court of Arms is in the Palace and we shall try to get a word to her. But we cannot be certain. As you know, she is not quite happy to have her court quite divided.”

West stared around at the Soldiers. “How do we know these Soldiers are not playing on Arielle’s side?”

The Maiden shook her head. “Our Soldiers answer first to the children of Belcourt. And these Soldiers who are here tonight are the numbers who remember their pledge.” Turning away, she added, “And we remember our pledge, West Blackwood. Until death, we save the children because they are Belcourt.”

“Wait,” West said, stopping the woman. “If we are to join forces, then I would like it very much if we rescue everyone trapped in the Great Hall first.”

The Maiden looked to her left. “Delaney.” Aliya’s sister came forward without a word. To West, the Maiden said, “Delaney is a Belle, but she was a Soldier first. And I assume you are familiar with her?”

West nodded. “And I’m hoping I can trust her.”

Delaney looked at him with almost an angry look. “The only family I have is in that hall, Sir. You don’t have to trust me. I’m going there with other Soldiers whether you like it or not.”

West nodded.

---

Sasha took another step back as Summer advanced, sword pointing directly at her. Behind the closed doors, the fight had started. And so did the one behind them—Soldiers against Soldiers. And here, where she stood with Aliya and the others, was a fight of Belles against Belles.

“She’s using all of you,” Sasha said, looking at the younger Belles.

“Don’t expect us to believe traitors like you, Sasha,” Summer said, eyes jumping from her to Aliya and Caroline. “While all of you have been living your wonderful lives outside Belcourt, we’ve done nothing but to protect it from the people you share your beds with.”

“We’re here to save Belcourt from Arielle,” said Sasha. “We are not here to destroy it.”

“The High Priestess—”

“Is not Arielle,” Aliya interjected. “The High Priestess is a child manipulated by the former High Priestess—Prince Albert.”

Summer snorted.

“Don’t believe us if you must,” Caroline added. “Albert, my cousin, is dead, killed by his own family, the very same ones who had been controlling Belcourt to establish power in the kingdom.”

Summer shook her head. “It is too late for a history lesson, Carol. You were never a Belle to begin with. Why would I listen to you? You have all betrayed Belcourt and that’s reason enough for us to keep you here.”

Sasha looked over her shoulder. She could not tell who was winning.

“You are correct to say I am not a Belle,” Caroline said. “Because I can never imagine to be one. To be reared to seduce men for the benefit of Belcourt, to give my life and soul to an institution who would never give me my freedom.”

“The High Priestess gave us a chance for freedom. It is us who chose to stay.”

“Then tell us why she tried to kill Leila, the former High Priestess. She was a child, Summer.”

Summer shook her head. “You’re lying, Sasha.”

“Leila came to us for help,” Aliya said. “But Arielle eventually got to her.”

“The High Priestess did what she thought best.”

“She did what she had to do to keep her power,” Sasha said, taking a step closer. “And to gain more power, she invited Napoleon’s men here in Sutherland. To overthrow the king.”

“Belcourt is an independent institution. We do not serve anyone. We do not care who reigns the kingdom.”

“Then perhaps you do not care what happens to everyone else outside?”

“Why would I? They do not care about us to begin with.”

Sasha was silent for a moment as she held Summer’s gaze. “Summer, why do you think Ruby did what she did?”

“Just like you did. Out of selfish reasons.”

“Because she had a mother and father outside Belcourt. She had something to protect. Not serve, Summer, but protect .”

Summer’s jaw tightened. “Stop talking.”

“What you think you are doing—what Arielle wants you to think you’re doing—is to protect Belcourt. But you’re not doing that now, are you, Summer? The children are not here now, are they? You’re here because you’re serving your purpose. You’re being a pawn.”

“I’m being part of an order that is protecting the children! Do not dare belittle the sacrifice I’m doing for them!”

“I, too, along with Aliya and Caroline, are sacrificing so much tonight. We could have chosen to be with our families outside Belcourt.”

“Then you should have stayed outside, Sasha.”

“How could I when I know what Arielle is planning to do? When I know that she’s keeping Leila here? When I know that she’s planning a war?”

“No. She is not—”

“She is, Summer, and you know it. In the back of your mind, you know it. You’re a Belle. You’ve met the French soldiers, have you not?” Sasha allowed a small pause. “Did you have to please them in bed? Were you instructed to do so? Keep them happy? Gain their trust?”

A tear fell from Summer’s eyes as she shook her head. “No. Stop talking!”

As her cry joined the sounds of swords behind them, the double doors swung open, revealing more Soldiers.

Sasha started to turn to Aliya and Caroline to warn them, but then stopped when she noticed the Soldiers were coming toward the Belles. From outside, Jade’s cry of “Traitors!” could be heard.

Then the Royals rushed in, led by her husband. Summer made the mistake of turning her head to look. As she did, Caroline jumped at the chance and disarmed her with fluid ease, stole Caroline’s weapon and swirling the sword over her head before jumping back, arms raised to her sides.

The younger Belles were looking more uncertain and scared with each passing second, confused by the scene around them; of their fellow Belcourt ladies fighting against each other. Summer grabbed the sword from the Belle closest to her, but it was easily snapped out of her hold by Caroline.

“I had to learn to fence to fit in with my friends,” Caroline explained, pointing the sword at Summer. “I should say it’s worth it.” She stepped forward and the other Belles jumped back in alarm.

“Drop your weapons,” one of the Soldiers said to the other Belles.

Summer’s nostrils flared as she glared at the Soldiers. “Traitors!” She flung herself toward one of them and failed, caught by the arm, and whirled around to be bound. “You’re all killing Belcourt!”

Sasha saw West running toward them, Trent not far behind. And from the doorway, Jade, with a murderous look on her face, stormed toward them, a dagger in hand.

“Trent!” Caroline shouted, running.

West and Trent turned just in time to find Jade raising the dagger over her head. They jumped to the side, dodging her attack.

Jade let out a scream of fury, turning frantically around in search for Trent, then skidded to a halt when she spotted Caroline. Trent rushed toward her, weapon in hand, but the woman was already running the opposite way, hatred fueling her toward the source of her wrath.

However, she was not fast enough. Caroline was ready. With no hesitation, she bent low and struck forward, the blade of her stolen sword tearing right through the center of Jade’s chest, freezing the woman. The dagger clattered to the ground as she looked down right where she was struck.

Her laugh was a gurgle of blood; her wrath reduced to a look of confusion as she stumbled back, standing there with a sword in her chest as her eyes searched for Trent, who had grabbed Caroline, pulling her away, leaving Jade in the middle of all the chaos.

The Soldiers in the middle of the Great Hall had stopped fighting, a few on the ground wounded, others being tied down by fellow Soldiers. The Belles had been cornered, looking horrified to witness their Mistress be killed.

“Aliya!” Delaney shouted, running toward her sister.

“Sasha,” West said, taking her hand without another word. She followed without a word. “We have to find a doctor.”

She was about to ask why when they emerged from the Great Hall and came upon the other Royals guarding the threshold. To their right, leaning against the wall, was Leo, face white, eyes barely open. Beside him was Tanner, hand drenched in blood as he pressed it against Leo’s side.

“I’m bloody and I’m bloody tired,” Leo murmured to Sasha when she rushed toward him.

She took his hand and squeezed. “If you die, Leo, we’ll lose the deal with Louis and the Vandenbergs.”

He rolled his eyes. “Bloody hell, woman. Have some mercy on a dying man.”

She stood and exchanged looks with West and the other Royals. “You’re not dying tonight,” she told him. To the others, she said, “We’ll find a doctor.”

“No. Find Esther and the child. They’re here somewhere.” He offered Sasha a weak grin. “No Esther, no deal either.”

Sasha nodded. “We’ll find them.”

XLI | The Evil and the Bad

Ellise, Robert, and Rider, walked into the manor without a word.

“He’s been waiting,” Edward Worthington said, walking beside Ellise with purposeful strides.

She did not reply, simply allowed him to guide her to the chamber where Reginald was waiting.

“What happened?” the old man asked when Worthington left the room.

She took the seat across from him, the image of Ruby’s lifeless body as it was wrapped and placed inside a box to be carried back here with them still fresh in her mind. “It was a trap.”

Robert and Rider went to fix themselves a drink. “Arielle was never going to Islefield.” When Reginald only looked at her, she cursed under her breath. “The French are already inside Belcourt, are they not?”

The old man nodded. “They are guarding the gates as we speak.” He looked from her to Rider to Robert. “It looks like you’ve just escaped hell.”

“And landed back, apparently,” Ellise murmured. “What of the Royals inside Belcourt?”

“We received the signal eight hours ago.”

“And no word since then?”

“We see smoke coming up from inside. Something is burning inside, and we believe it’s the orphanage.”

“Are they trapped or are they dead?” she asked.

“We can’t tell for certain.”

“Does Louis have a plan?”

“He does not know who to trust, darling. He’s rounding up all members of both Houses to get to the bottom of this. Those who connived in getting Napoleon’s soldiers here should already be caught.” Reginald sighed and shrugged. “He has to deal with the politics.”

“And the Royal Guards?”

“We suggested he should keep them as the last resort. We don’t know how many of the French are here. Storming inside Belcourt could be a trap. As king, he has to keep himself well-guarded somewhere safe.”

Ellise’s jaw tightened. Even if there were enough Royal Guards to storm inside Belcourt, they were scattered all over the kingdom. It would take days just to gather them here. “The Vandenbergs are occupied. They’re dealing with the Soldiers we left behind and I can tell you they will not be happy to find out we’re not doing a good job inside Belcourt.”

“We have to do this as stealthily as we can,” Reginald murmured, blankly looking at the space in front of him. “There are women and children inside that place who are innocent.”

“We should infiltrate before Arielle and the French neutralize our forces inside. If we have any left.”

“As Darcy, you cannot go inside,” Robert said, approaching them with a glass of brandy in his hand. “In case Blackwood does not make it.”

“I know,” Ellise replied, looking into Reginald’s eyes.

The man’s brow furrowed. “Any ideas, Darcy?”

Ellise would rather be somewhere else, to be honest. She hated to be the bearer of an obligation in this magnitude. If her brother was here, he would tell her, “This was what I was talking about, sister.”

She looked at Robert. They could be married by now, making plans for their child, fighting over what age it should be allowed to learn how to fence or ride a horse.

“Darcy,” Reginald’s voice spoke again.

Ellise let out a sigh and closed her eyes to collect her thoughts. Too much had happened in the past weeks and months. The questions and doubt about their plans were gnawing at her. The lives they lost for this stupid battle of power could never be replaced. So, what now?

If Arielle had successfully orchestrated the arrival of the French here, it was without help. And she had help. Powerful men who were outside Belcourt and within the king’s circle. She managed to control those men to agree to her plans. “We have the list of all men who worked with Arielle. They should know more of her plans.”

“Louis is already working on that. What I’m asking is what we should do about Belcourt, child?”

She shook her head. They had no way of knowing what happened to Blackwood and the others inside. They had talked about what they would do should things go awry, of course. Sasha and Aliya knew the landscape well enough to secure a safe place for them and the children. If they were still alive and had no way out, they would have tried securing the Village. They should have enough food there until help came. It also had access to all other Courts. Sasha, herself would penetrate the Library where there’s medicine.

“I want to know your plans, Darcy,” Reginald said, getting more impatient.

Ellise blinked a few times. They should be alive, she thought. Getting to the Village would have been Sasha’s paramount goal.

“Elle?” Robert asked when she remained silent.

Finally, she slowly nodded. Looking at Reginald, she said, “Send a note to the gates.”

“You want to talk to Arielle?” Reginald asked.

“No. I want to talk to the French.” She looked at all men in the room. “They’re in Belcourt, but their supplies will be limited. Food will run out soon and they know it. But that’s only upon the speculation that Sasha and Blackwood were able to secure the Village.”

“Arielle should now be feeling that she’s running out of time. The French came here because Belcourt promised them something. What we should do is give them what they want faster than Arielle could.”

---

Arielle was taking a bath when the double doors opened and the Mistress of the Court of Arms walked in.

“Well?”

Lady Eastwell shook her head. “I lost a quarter of my Soldiers, Your Highness. They’ve all joined the Maidens inside the Village along with the old Soldiers Theodora gathered.”

She closed her eyes and took a lungful of breath. “And the children?”

“I was told they are safe.”

“The Great Hall?”

“Still burning, but we do not believe anyone is inside.”

“Get me Jade.”

“We lost her, Your Highness.”

“The useless chit,” she growled under her breath. “And the Belles?”

“Inside the Garden, entertaining the French soldiers.”

Arielle slowly nodded. “Well done, Lady Eastwell. Tell them I will join them soon to discuss our next course of action.”

The woman was about to say something when another Soldier rushed in, breathless. “The general received a note from outside the gates. He’s preparing to leave the Flower Garden as we speak.”

Water splashed over the rim of the tub as Arielle stood and snatched the robe from the Elected standing by. “Get him to me.”

“I tried, Your Highness. I told him he is not permitted outside the gates.”

“And?”

The Soldier hesitated, looked at her Mistress before her eyes went back to Arielle. “He only laughed, Your Highness.”

“The bloody idiot.” She tied the straps of her robe and rushed out of the room barefoot. “Gather your Soldiers, Lady Eastwell, and take over the Village. We’ve been waiting long enough. I want my children back.” To the other Soldier, she ordered, “Follow Tremblay. Do not be seen.”

---

Esther scrambled to one corner, pulling Leila with her, when the door was kicked open. Her eyes widened when she saw Tanner. It took her a moment to process any form of reaction. She just witnessed someone who saved their lives die, had to stay in the same room with the body and a child, and then she had to come face to face with the man who betrayed her.

“You have to come with me now,” Tanner said, stepping over Fatima’s body.

“No,” she ground out, pulling Leila into her arms.

“Yes, you are. Leo sent us.”

“Us?” Her eyes flew to the doorway. There were two men standing outside.

“Who do you work with, Tanner?” she ground out.

“My loyalty lies with the Circus.” He extended his hand. “Come with me now.”

She hesitated, but what else could she do? Whether she wanted to go or not, Tanner would still find a way to force her. As she stood, taking Leila with her, Tanner looked down at Fatima’s cold body.

Whatever came to his mind, his face did not show it when he faced her again.

He led them down an empty corridor, their footsteps too loud even if they tried to be quiet. It was the dead of the night. She did not know where they were being led to, but she followed anyway. They could be heading to their death and she would not care. She was tired. She just wanted this to end. And mayhap Leila felt the same because the child was silent beside her, gripping her hand tightly since they left the room.

Tanner signaled for them to stop at the end of the corridor. He poked his head out and motioned with his hand. One Royal walked out and they all followed, Tanner close behind. Three turns later, they emerged outside the Common Court. Out in the open.

“Where’s everyone?” Leila asked.

“Hiding,” Tanner said, pointing toward the plantation. We’ll travel behind the trees.

“We’re not getting out of here?” Esther asked.

“We’re trapped here,” Tanner explained.

“Where’s Leo? How do we know you’re not working for Arielle?”

“You don’t,” he coldly said. “You only have us now.”

He did not wait for them to follow. He ran straight toward the trees. Esther shared a look with Leila. They had no other choice.

---

Sasha stood in front of the Village gate when it opened and Tanner slipped inside. Then she sighed in relief when Esther and Leila followed.

The princess immediately saw her. Sasha turned to Leila, who was met by Aliya. “Please go with Aliya,” she told the child. But Leila held on to Esther’s arm and Esther pulled her closer.

Sasha wondered then what the pair had been through to have formed this bond.

“Where’s Leo?” Esther asked.

“If you’ll let Aliya take Leila to meet the Maidens, I’ll bring you to Leo.”

Leila froze. “They’re here?”

Sasha smiled and nodded at the girl. “For them, you are still the High Priestess.”

Slowly, the girl’s hold on Esther loosened. “Come with me, Leila,” Aliya said. “We’ve been worried about you.” The child stopped, spotting Caroline and Trent. She looked like she wanted to say something, but she stopped herself and moved away in the opposite direction to follow Aliya.

“Where’s that bloody bastard?” Esther asked, drawing Sasha’s full attention.

“Come with me.”

She led her through the maze of the Village, through groups of women in different colored cloaks huddled together, and finally into a room.

“Good Lord,” Esther said under her breath, rushing to the bed. “What happened?”

“Almost died,” Leo replied, eyes still closed. “You hurt, princess?”

Esther slapped his arm and fell to her knees, a sob escaping her lips before finally breaking down. “You left us to die.”

“Of course, it’s my fault,” Leo droned.

When Esther did not reply, choking in her own tears as her shoulder shook, Leo opened one eye and sighed. “Stop crying like a spoiled princess. You’re not dead, are you?”

“I thought you were dead!” she managed through her tears.

“I’ll be if you don’t loosen your hold.” At his word, Esther let go of his arm.

Sasha quietly left the room and made her way back to her husband.

For now, they were safe. The children were safe.

Later, however, was uncertain.

---

Reginald waited in a small tavern room. It was clear he did not belong in such a dilapidated place, but his very presence was enough to make the French general falter in steps when he walked in.

Then, taking in everyone who was also in the room with Reginald, Arnaud Tremblay slowly smiled. It grew into chuckles, then laughter. “I would have never imagined that you would be in the same room together,” he said, accent thick.

Without addressing the man’s words, Reginald smiled and said, “Your presence here must mean you are willing to make a deal.”

“I was curious. I had to see it for myself,” the general said, looking at him. “Reginald Stanhope. You’re alive after all. For a while, we were beginning to think you are a myth.” His eyes swept the room, and he shook his head. Then his eyes landed on the woman sitting beside Reginald. “Queen Helena Vandenberg Davercher,” he said, with another shake of his head. Looking at them both, he laughed. “What an unexpected pair.”

The queen just looked at him. “The deal?”

Tremblay looked behind him at his men and faced them again with a smile. “Somehow I find it quite hard to believe that you’re just going to give me Louis.”

“The fact that you are here, risking your life, means you wanted it to be true,” the queen said. “And it is.”

“Oh, no,” said Tremblay with a wave of his hand. “There are more generals arriving in Sutherland. Whatever you do to me now will not matter that much.” Fixing Reginald a look, he said, “I want to know why you’re willing to give us Sutherland. For years, you’ve done nothing but plan for your return.”

Reginald shrugged. “I would not win even if I can take Louis down. My son and I had a long talk and we both decided I should retire somewhere. He’s currently trapped in Belcourt. I want him out of there and I want a ride out of Sutherland the moment your men take over the kingdom.”

Tremblay scoffed, then slowly nodded. He looked at the queen next and waited. “My husband is no longer of use for me and my family. He only became king so I could gain power. With the threat of Napoleon, I decided to abdicate the throne in exchange for the security of all Vandenbergs.”

“And your son?”

“Prince Emory will fight with his father.”

“Can you truly allow him to do it? Would you be able to bear losing another child?”

“I raised my children to do whatever they wish. He can fight if he wishes to fight.”

“And you only want Belcourt.”

“The Vandenbergs built it from the ground up,” she said, voice stern, almost shaking. “Louis is currently not in Coulway. He’s headed somewhere. I will tell you where he is, as well as my son, Emory, if you give Belcourt back to the Vandenbergs. And once Sutherland is under Napoleon’s rule, we shall all remain safe.”

Tremblay looked thoughtful. “We already promised Belcourt to Arielle.”

“And we promise you the king and the crown prince,” the queen shot back. “Can that bastard offer you more than the women she exploits to your men inside Belcourt? I believe not.”

Tremblay slowly smiled, watching Queen Helena with wonder. “Louis never knew the power he married, did he?”

“Louis does not know anything,” Reginald said with a scoff, standing up. “Well, do you want him and the prince or not?”

It took Arnaud Tremblay a few moments. He may be the general, but he was still here following an order: take over Sutherland in the name of Napoleon. And he knew that the best way to do so was to get the king and his successor. The rest would simply follow.

Finally, he nodded. “If Sutherland loses its king and crown prince today, you have my word that you will get your son and a ship out of Sutherland,” he said to Reginald, then to the queen, he added, “and you shall have your Belcourt back.”

Later, after Arnaud Tremblay and his soldiers left for Birth to prepare an ambush, Reginald and Queen Helena shared wine in silence.

Ellise stood from the corner of the room where she had been quietly sitting and accepted the glass handed to her by one Royal.

“Do not look so glum, child,” Reginald told her with a smile. “Sometimes we have to choose between the evil and the bad. Your plan chose the lesser evil.”

She did not answer, and only nodded. Taking a sip from her drink, she prayed she did the right thing.

XLII | Trades

“We cannot fight the French. Nor can we fight against more Soldiers as we already did,” said the Mistress of the Court of Libraries.

“I agree,” answered the Mistress from the Court of Service. “We should not be fighting against each other.” She looked at the row of Maidens. “We should take the children out of here.”

“There must be a way,” said Lady Miranda. “The children are scared and confused. There should be another way out of here.”

“Arielle must have already blocked every escape,” said Aliya. “There is one in the Palace directly into the woods. It’s impossible to get there now. Another is a secret passage through the Flower Garden, one often used by secret flowers, but as we know, the Flower Garden is being occupied by the Belles and the French soldiers as we speak.”

Sasha shared a look with West, who was standing in the back of the Tea House. As men, he and other Royals were apprehensive to speak. When she veered her attention back to the discussion at hand, she stepped forward and said, “If we can find older maps of Belcourt inside the Library, we might have a chance of locating the sewer line.” Everyone fell silent, considering her words.

“But I would not suggest putting the children through such an ordeal,” West said, speaking for the first time. All heads turned to him. “I’m certain that the Royals outside Belcourt shall try to rescue us and take Arielle and the Frenchmen down.”

“No, this is our fight,” said one of the Maidens. “We cannot rely on anyone outside to help us.”

“Maybe you should,” West said, stepping away from the back of the room, walking into the inner circle of women. “We are all fighting against the French, not each other, my lady. As I’ve said, we shall help you.”

“You do not even know if your friends outside are not letting all of us be fed to the wolves! Worse, conniving with other forces that shall further endanger Belcourt’s independence.”

“My faith in my comrades is on par with the same faith you impose on your children to blindly gave to your High Priestess all these years. The only difference, my lady, is that I’ve known these people all my life.”

Before the argument progressed, Sasha spoke again. “Arielle was never the High Priestess.”

“Yes,” said the Maiden, tearing her gaze away from West to look at Leila, who had been sitting quietly beside Esther. “The High Priestess is here with us now.”

Esther, who had no opinion on anything since they started, suddenly went rigid and scowled at the Maiden. “For God’s sake! She’s naught but a child, woman. Leave her out of this. She has been used enough as it is!” Her face was red, that Sasha questioned if the woman was speaking just for Leila. Her words were spoken with utter disgust, as if she herself knew what Leila had been through. “She was trapped here to be groomed, led to believe that she had power, when in fact she was deprived of the things a child ought to have had! A childhood! Family!”

She only stopped when Leila’s hand rested on hers, and the child raised her head to look at the Maiden. “While I may agree with Esther, because I truly feel and have now come to realize that I am merely here because of someone’s false sense of power, I also have to accept the fact that for a time, Belcourt regarded me as its High Priestess. I was given the title, and while I do not think I am fit to be one, I also believe that Arielle is not much more deserving of the throne.” She stood in a body of a child, but with the grace of a woman. “Belcourt has indeed trapped me here all my life, yet it is still the only home I know. But now it has turned into hell. I want it back.” She threw West a glance. “And if it means working with people we thought were enemies, then so be it. I suggest we listen to what the Royals have to say, for this is no longer a fight we can do on our own.”

“But Your Highness—”

“If we escape, we lose Belcourt to Arielle. And if we fight, we will not have a chance against the Soldiers and the Frenchmen. But if we wait, and believe that help from outside is coming, maybe we will have a chance. As West Blackwood has said, he knows his comrades. I also happen to know some of them and I shall give them the chance to help us.”

She turned to the rest of the Maidens, then the Mistresses present in the room. “You can choose to obey me. I do not represent Belcourt now as I speak. But I do represent the children of Belcourt, as I do represent all women, because anyone of you could be our future. Give us that chance.”

Sasha looked around the quiet room. “We have food here,” she said. “Some had raided the Library to get supplies of medicines and weapons available.”

“Give us until the morning,” added West. “If help does not come, we can proceed with the plan to escape.”

One Maiden nodded, followed by another. But the Mistress of the Court of Libraries spoke, saying, “You only have a few more hours, Sir. My ladies and I shall spend it planning for an escape.” She turned to the Maidens, then Leila. “If you will permit us, we would like to make a secret trip back to the Library to gather older maps of Belcourt.”

Leila just nodded before she sat back down beside Esther who just pursed her lips, shaking her head, murmuring, “You did not have to say that much, child.”

---

When Arielle received the short note, she immediately ordered the Soldiers to open the gates and escort her visitor to the Palace. She waited anxiously, but with the presence of Lady Eastwell, the Mistress of the Court of Arms, she had to appear confident.

When the old man walked into the elegant chamber with his three guards in tow, Arielle gracefully stood. “Reginald,” she greeted with a knowing tone. “To what do I owe this rather surprising visit?”

The man did not immediately answer. What he did was demand for a chair, which Arielle conceded to. As he took his time to sit and adjust his position, she went back to her own throne, a gold-and-red winged chair sitting on a small podium. That way, she was looking down at him.

She was smiling when he finally cleared his throat and looked up at her, his demeanor proud, but also amused. “You look just like your mother.”

Her smile instantly disappeared. That was not what she expected to hear.

“Amazing woman, your mother. A free spirit, too. In fact, I did warn my then Prime Minister, Addison Blackwood, that she may be his biggest mistake. But of course, as we both know, he did not listen. He said that Belcourt was the mistake. She may have left Belcourt, but she was still bound to it by her Vow. Thus, you , child. You were the byproduct of that Vow. She was forced to betray her husband to spy on me and seduce the man that is your father.”

Arielle took a long moment to master herself. And when she did, she scoffed. “I have already heard that part of history from my dear brother Albert.”

“Ah, of course, you have,” Reginald said, looking straight at her. This was a man who had reigned Sutherland. Once, he was a powerful king, the remnant of his power still held in his gaze. “I have gathered members of the House of Lords. I’m here to give you an offer. You’ve done quite an astounding work getting support from the same men. They’re all willing to continue working with you.”

“For a different goal? Which is to make you king?”

“Of course, child,” he said.

“But I already have someone in mind to rule Sutherland.”

“Ah… The French,” Reginald said with a shake of his head. “I also heard half of them rushed out of Belcourt to meet the queen.”

Arielle stiffened. From the corner of her eye, she could see Lady Eastwell share a look with one Soldier. What could they be thinking now? That she had lost control? No, of course not. Tremblay would never betray her. If it was not for her, Napoleon would never have had trouble setting a camp in Sutherland.

“And what shall I get in return?”

“Belcourt, of course,” said Reginald.

“Supposing I side with you, what plan do you have in mind?”

Reginald smiled. “I’ve been through enough in my years as king, child. I know that anyone can be bought for an ounce of power and wealth. But to answer your question, you need not do anything. I’ve already taken care of Louis. The queen and the French shall be next. It shall be easy because Helena believes I’m working with her. My Royals are loyal to me and can easily give her the ending she deserves for what she did to both of us. All you have to do is to remain on your throne.”

“And why would I believe you?”

“Because I have no interest in Belcourt. However, the Vandenbergs do. To them, this place is theirs. Once the queen is gone, they shall try to get Belcourt back and force one of their own to rule it. And it shall merely repeat history. I’ve already learned my lesson. No Vandenberg can ever rule Belcourt again.”

Arielle looked at Lady Eastwell, and with the slightest motion, the lady nodded.

“I do not have to do anything.”

Reginald’s gaze never left hers. “Well, you can do one thing. There are still French Soldiers within Belcourt. Perhaps you can offer them drinks that shall put them to sleep forever?”

Arielle scoffed once more. “I shall think about your offer.”

With a grunt, the man straightened on his feet. “Of course, you will. But don’t take long. I have a throne to fill.”

Arielle lifted her hand to stop the Soldiers who moved to follow Reginald. When the man finally left, Lady Eastwell approached Arielle.

“Well? What do you think?” Arielle asked the Mistress.

“I believe we are currently trapped inside our own home, Your Highness,” Lady Eastwell said. “Our own women turned against us and they’re all inside the Village with our supplies. It would not be long before we’ll be forced to enter the place. And when that happens, we’ll be waging a war against our own people. It should never happen. It goes against Belcourt’s ideals.” The woman turned to stare at the doorway Reginald exited. “If he changes his allegiance, we shall be helpless.”

“Or he could be playing us. How do we know he is not fooling me?”

Lady Eastwell was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, she turned to Arielle. “Would you rather stay on a throne with no subjects, or risk it for the good of all? We’ve already lost enough Soldiers.”

Arielle stood and stepped down her throne. “I will think about it.”

As she soon found out, Reginald was not the last to call on her. Merely two hours later, while Arielle made plans with the Soldiers regarding the current situation in the Village, she received another note.

This time, however, she did not let the visitor through the gates. Arielle left the Palace and rode a carriage to meet the caller, passing through the still burning Great Hall. The fire would soon run out of wood to devour and it would leave nothing but the ruins of what used to be one of the most magnificent edifices in Belcourt.

But it was also built by the Vandenbergs to entertain their guests. It was where the children were forced to perform in front of Sutherland’s richest, was where women of eighteen were courted, shattering or fulfilling their dreams. It was gone now. But like a phoenix, something new would rise from its ashes. A new Belcourt.

When they reached the gates, Arielle climbed out of the carriage and waited as the Soldiers opened the iron doors of the second gate. Across from her stood someone she was familiar with as well. Another player in the game.

“Ellise St. Vincent,” she greeted with a wintry smile. “Are you here for Leila or your sister-in-law?”

“No,” the woman replied, squarely looking at her with no expression on her face. “I was informed that Reginald came here.”

Ellise St. Vincent was dressed in white shirt and buckskins, boots, and a dark coat. Her hair was pulled high behind her head. Not far away, there were five men standing guard. It was clear who ruled the Royal Circus while Blackwood was away. Arielle could only hide her contempt. A woman. Crowning a woman to rule a group of men? The Royal Circus were naught but hypocrites. Was it a move to mock Belcourt’s High Priestess?

“Yes, he did,” she replied. “I’m surprised you have to ask. Are you not one of his armies?”

The woman’s eyes wavered for a second before she shook her head and said, “I have decided I don’t agree with his plans.”

“I quite like it.”

“You mean the plan he told you, one he knows you would agree on? One that is not true?”

Arielle smiled even more widely. “How do I know it’s not you who is going to deliver the wooden horse?”

“Darling,” Ellise said, looking at her with mock pity, “I don’t give away gifts so easily. I’m only here to offer a trade.”

“Ah. More trades. I’m loving this night.”

“Reginald sent the French to the king.”

“He already told me that, yes.”

“Did he also tell you that he sent them to kill Louis?” When she did not answer, Ellise scoffed. “Of course, he did.” The woman took a step forward. “It is quite true. But Reginald is not going to be king. He made a deal with the French. He is boarding a ship soon with no interference from the French as soon as he gets his son out of Belcourt. And the queen, in exchange for her role in killing Louis, shall regain Belcourt.”

“Your story is rather too farfetched, Ellise, dear.”

“I was there when they made the deal. It was my idea.”

Arielle’s brows raised in mock surprise. “And why the change of heart?”

“Because I believe we have lost enough people in this stupid war.”

“Why would Reginald choose to leave Sutherland when he now has a chance to be king again?”

“Because he is a wise man, and he knows Napoleon shall ultimately win.”

“And why did he pay me a visit? Why offer me something?”

Ellise frowned. “Why do you think?” the woman asked. Arielle remained silent, clueless. Ellise shook her head with a light chuckle. “He planted men within Belcourt.” Throwing her eyes at the Soldiers guarding the gates, Ellise asked, “Do you think these Soldiers are still serving you and not the Vandenbergs?”

Arielle went cold.

Ellise St. Vincent stepped away. “Once the French get Sutherland, the queen and the rest of the Vandenbergs will reclaim their reign of Belcourt. And Reginald will live the rest of his life a free man somewhere else with his son.”

“You’re setting me in a trap. I can feel it. You are insane if you think I’ll ever leave Belcourt.”

Ellise stepped back. “We, the Royal Circus, have agreed to no longer support Reginald and the queen. But if you so choose, make a deal with Reginald. Either way, I would still get my friends back. However, be careful. The Vandenbergs are not the friendly sort.”

“I can never leave my people.”

“Then give me back mine.”

“Why would I do that?”

“So we can fight for Sutherland.”

“You mean you will save Louis?”

“No. As we speak, he could be dead. But the crown prince is alive.”

“You mean Emory.” Arielle scoffed. “He will never be like Albert.”

“Of course. He is not as insane. He is actually the better king.”

Arielle’s face flushed. “Go away before I go for your head.”

Ellise just smiled at her. Stepping back, she slowly nodded. “Be careful, Arielle. Make the right choice because I never want to one day tell you ‘I told you so’.”

With a scoff, Arielle turned around. “I already chose my side.”

XLIII | Child

Sasha paced around the tiny room, hands on her hips.

“What bothers you?”

She stopped and looked at her husband with the slightest frown. “Are you telling me you are just sitting there feeling nothing?”

He had the audacity to shrug and lean against the back of the chair. “I do have my worries. And I do have faith in Darcy.”

Sasha slowly shook her head. “As do I, Your Grace, but I also know what Belcourt is capable of.”

He stood and walked toward her, held her shoulders. “We are also with other women from Belcourt. And they all have more powerful reasons to fight against Arielle. The children.”

“I know, but the Soldiers—”

“Sasha,” he said in a stern voice that was laced with patience and a little bit of amusement.

“What?” she snapped.

“You’re not used to not being in control.”

“We are trapped inside the Village, West. Certainly, I’m uncomfortable.”

“I understand that you’d rather be out there making plans as Darcy.”

“I don’t mean to say Ellise is not capable. I only—” She stopped, sighing with resignation. “I hate being powerless. I don’t like to wait and see where this leads us. I’m no longer that woman.”

West cupped her face with a smile. “Doing nothing does not strip you of your power. It takes more courage to do so.” He pulled her gently into his arms. Against her temple, he murmured, “We’ve done enough, darling; sacrificed enough, done the best we could. It’s time to wait and see if we’ve done it right.”

Leaning her forehead on his chest, she murmured, “I’m starting to hate this type of war.”

He chuckled. “Not enough blood?”

She nodded. “It’s so…”

“Silent.”

She sighed, then groaned.

“The Royal Circus was preparing for a physical fight, darling. Until you Belcourt ladies came in and forced us to use our brains instead.”

Silence fell between them.

“I miss our son,” Sasha later murmured.

“As do I.”

She swallowed. “We’ll wait.”

She felt him nod. “For now.”

Sasha pushed away and nodded. Then she turned to the door. “We have to feed the children.”

They did not have to wait long, they later realized, as they headed out. Trent and Tanner were running toward them.

“Men just entered the Palace.”

“Royals?” West asked.

“We do not think so,” Tanner said, jaw tight.

“They rode straight to the Palace,” Trent added.

Sasha frowned at them. “Who were they?”

“Members of the House of Lords,” said Tanner. “Reginald is with them.”

Sasha and West rushed to the gates. Delaney, Aliya’s sister, met them and said, “Take the children to safety.” She was holding her sword. Others were climbing up the ladder, settling on a makeshift platform that overlooked the walls of the Village, their bows and arrows at the ready.

“Royal Guards,” informed Delaney as West climbed up the ladder to see. “Their riding toward the Village now.” As she turned away, Sasha saw the look of contempt on her face. They had trusted Sasha and the others that help would come. But now, it seemed not to be the case.

---

Arielle’s heart was like a series of thunder in her chest. She was confident in her decision because it was rational. So, for a split second, she was reassured. But only for a moment. Because as Reginald sashayed into the room, a potent awareness that this could, after all, be a trap.

But before she could even let herself justify her actions, or why she fell for Reginald’s trick, relief came over her again. The men behind him were men she was familiar with. She sat around the table with them too many times before, planning for a new Sutherland. They were the same men people outside Belcourt respected and feared. Men in seats of power simply because they were born with the noble blood of their ancestors. Men who wanted more power than the king.

She allowed a smile, her heart resting in a quiet storm as she sat on her throne in the Palace.

“As promised,” said Reginald, stepping forward, hands stretched to his sides while more people filed into the chamber. Indeed, as he promised, he gathered the members of the House of Lords.

Her smile widened. But the cautious part of her was thinking of a way out. She had planned everything with Lady Eastwell. Soldiers were hiding in all corners of the Palace, the other French soldiers Tremblay left behind were still alive. Contrary to what Reginald suggested, Arielle was not willing to let go of every card. Why would she kill the French if she could still use them?

“Are you still in disbelief that I took the House of Lords here?” Reginald asked.

“No,” Arielle said. “I’m simply astounded that they allowed you. Without guards, and helpless inside Belcourt.” Some men behind Reginald snapped their heads around, as if expecting a line of Soldiers pulling their bows at the ready to shoot. “But I appreciate that you trust Belcourt enough.”

Reginald shrugged to look at the men behind him. Turning to her again, he said, “The things we all do for power, am I correct, child?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said, smiling even more boldly. “Have you dealt with the Royal Circus? I would like to know how you did it. Beheaded them? Trapped and burned them alive?” She scoffed when the other men stiffened at her words.

Reginald slowly nodded and looked around the great chamber, genuinely curious. “Tell me, child. How many people have you killed?”

Arielle blinked in surprise.

Reginald looked up at her again. He may be standing low, with her on her throne, but his gaze was strong. He was made to be king, Arielle thought. But she would never be one of his subjects.

“I reckon not many,” Reginald said, still holding her gaze, the intensity of it showing her the number of dead bodies that he had slain before, the souls he stood on. “It was your brother Albert who was the crazier one.” Then he smiled, stepping back again, hands behind him in a mocking mien of a humble servant. “I am not saying you are any less different, of course. Nor do I blame you for putting all your faith in him. I wonder how you felt when he did not name you to be the next High Priestess.”

“There was already an Elected before he was murdered. I just simply paved my way.”

“And for what price?”

“Not much, of course. As you’ve said, I have not killed that many.”

“But you’ve done so many bad things, have you not?”

Her smile went cold. “I have done what’s best for Belcourt. And if I have not done so, you would not all be here now.”

“Of course,” said Reginald, nodding, taking her eyes prisoner in his once more. “You have done so much, child, but I’m afraid that deep inside, you are still innocent and naïve.”

Arielle was confused. Then doubt seeped in. She had replaced the guards in the gates. There could be no way that Reginald could do anything to her. Unless…

Her eyes flew to Lady Eastwell. The woman just stared at her, face free of emotions.

Reginald stepped aside, so did the men behind him. And through the opening they created sashayed the man Arielle would die to kill.

King Louis Frederick III Davercher.

His wrinkled deep sea blue eyes met hers with utter obscurity. The same indifference he would bestow upon peasants.

She flinched at the sight, her body suddenly cold and numb. Her chest contracted as fury ate at her lungs, depriving her of air. She knew Lady Eastwell was looking at her. The traitor.

No, this happened not because she was not capable. This happened because she was surrounded by cowards who would rather suffer in the old ways of Belcourt than fight for the future Albert and Arielle envisioned.

Louis did not utter a word. He simply looked at her, as if he could not yet decipher who she was and why she was doing this. But the younger man who stepped beside him was looking at her with a different look in his eyes. Emory was almost in awe.

“The House of Lords pledged their allegiance to their king,” Reginald said, breaking the cold silence. “See, child, you don’t have to kill your enemies. Sometimes, you just have to give them a price for their mistakes.” He looked over his shoulder, smiling at the crowd of cowards. “Give them one last chance to save their families, their wealth, their power.”

“I suppose you don’t realize, Reginald,” she said, voice shaking, “that the French are still in Belcourt. Still waiting to fight.”

Reginald let out a mocking sigh. “The Royal Guards had intercepted two French ships and they’re currently sinking in Sutherland waters. And, of course, we have General Tremblay.” Someone dragged a bound Tremblay before Arielle. “The rest of his men are dead on a lonely road outside Coulway. I’m quite certain the others inside the Flower Garden are also being taken care of by your own Soldiers.”

Arielle threw Lady Eastwell a glance before she laughed. “You all believe you tricked me, have you not?” She looked at Emory, then Louis, and settled back on Reginald. “What if I tell you I made other plans with the Royal Circus?”

“And if you did, you would have had a chance,” Ellise St. Vincent said, appearing from the back of the crowd. “I gave you a way out.”

Looking at the small smile that curled the woman’s mouth, Arielle was certain there was never a way out for her. Ellise St. Vincent cornered her in the board game, enticed her to go to the one thing that offered her a better chance. “You ignorant fool,” she spat at Ellise. “You side with these men, let them use you for their own game of power just like they would their women.”

Ellise just smiled. “I may not be from Belcourt, darling, but I would appreciate if you don’t call me a fool. I’ve been raised with free choice.”

“It is time to surrender.” The voice who spoke was one Arielle had only imagined for years. Louis stepped forward, looking up at her. “For the children and women of Belcourt, surrender.”

Arielle let out a low chuckle as her eyes brimmed with tears. Hands shaking, she gripped the arms of her chair and turned to Lady Eastwell. “Kill everyone in sight!” she hissed.

But no one moved. Not one Soldier appeared to follow her orders. Lady Eastwell held her gaze and said, “Our duty is to protect the children of Belcourt. We fight if we can, but we also surrender if we must. This time, we do the latter.”

“You coward!” she screamed, tears flying as she snapped her head toward the crowd of strangers before her. “Belcourt is mine. You cannot take it away from me.”

“It still stands in Sutherland soil. It is bound by Sutherland law now more than ever. What you and Albert have done against the kingdom is unforgivable,” Emory said, finally speaking.

“What Albert and I did was free Belcourt from the Vandenbergs!” She turned to Reginald. “The same people who took you out of power!”

Reginald nodded. “I understand. But I’m no fool to think you did it for me, child. How could I be king if you invited the French here?”

“And there could be more,” she sneered, leaning forward. “Two ships are nothing to the number that already arrived. Tremblay is but one of the generals.”

“Let us not fool ourselves, child. Do you know how many of his Grand Army survived after their retreat in Moscow? I reckon Napoleon would tell you he had no more to spare for a Sutherland invasion.” Dropping his arms to his sides, Reginald sighed. “Give up, child. There is no future for Napoleon here. Face your crimes with grace.”

“And how about you? All of you!” she shouted at the crowd. “The crimes you committed against the women and children? What of those crimes?”

“That is enough,” Louis said. “You are not one to deliver justice.”

“And you?” she asked with mocking laughter. “As king, what say you to your wife and her family? To the children you bore and made to suffer purely because they carried your pathetic blood?” He did not utter a word. He just looked at her. The silence that lingered was as resounding as the ones they gave to their victims. No justifications. Just utter cowardly silence.

A line of Soldiers marched into the grand chamber and joined Lady Eastwell. They were not here to fight. They were here to take her away.

Arielle scoffed, leaning back against her chair, eyes on Louis. “Do you even know who I am?”

And with the same indifferent look, he said, “No,” although they both knew the truth.

Arielle felt sick. What did she expect from him? Recognition? Yet she laughed and said, “I’m your daughter. The one your wife took away from its mother. The same child they kept away because your name could not be tarnished. Helena kept me here all my life, along with other unwanted children. It is because of me that you held your throne. Because of me that your wife and her family continued to play you like a puppet. I’m that child whose nonexistence gave you what you have now.”

“I only have one daughter.”

His last glance was nothing special. He just blinked as she sat frozen in her seat, her entire universe crumbling underneath her in obliterating pain she never thought she would ever feel in the many times she imagined meeting him. She was not spared of it, after all. She was just like every child of Belcourt—despicably found wanting.

As the Soldiers approached her throne, Louis faced Arnaud Tremblay and said, “Sutherland will not welcome Napoleon.”

And he left.

He found her and left.

XLIV | Autumn

One year later

Jonah was a quiet child, even when he was playing. He was sitting quietly on the same picnic cloth, playing with his wooden toys, and it had been hours.

“He is very much like every child, save for his very calm demeanor,” West said to his wife. “Could it be that he is surrounded by adults all the time?”

“I would not call Seven nor Darren adults. Would you?”

He chuckled, sipping his tea and tearing his eyes off their son. “No, not at all.”

“If only ours can stay still for one moment—Marion! Halt!” Ellise straightened in her seat while Dior rushed to snatch their daughter away from the path of the approaching carriages that just entered the Everleigh estate. “Two more years and I will bury my own daughter,” she added, watching Marion laughing hysterically as her father tucked her under one arm and carried her back to their little picnic.

Her daughter safe for now, Ellise turned to West. “Arielle will be sent away soon. Will you see her before she leaves?”

The man shook his head. “She made it clear the last time I saw her that she wants to leave alone.”

“Does she know where she is going?”

“No.”

“I hope you do not mind me saying this, but I still believe she should be hanged.”

The duke nodded in understanding. “It was not I who made the decision.”

“The worst thing Louis made before he stepped down,” Ellise murmured, standing to take their daughter away from Dior, carrying her back to the small picnic she was sharing with Jonah just minutes ago. “You stay here because this cloth was laid out for you. The grass did not grow to be stepped on, nor was the road built for little humans like you.” The little girl just looked up at her with the same expression Oliver would wear whenever they were together.

Dior stood beside her, hands on his hips. “I don’t think she understands.”

Ellise sighed and sat with her daughter. Then they both looked at Jonah who was still busy lining his toys in order. “We should get whatever they feed him,” she said to her husband.

“Do not be ridiculous,” he said with a scoff. “She is perfect.”

“Perfectly attracts danger,” she said, looking at Marion, groaning when the little girl stood and turned before taking tiny steps back to the road. “At the very least she knows direction.”

“She can be a sailor,” said Dior, picking up his daughter again and putting her over his shoulder, the only place she liked to stay long.

Ellise looked up at them both and stood. “If she grows old enough with complete limbs, she can be a pirate and I would not mind,” she said, playfully narrowing her eyes at the child. “You, little duchess, were not born with iron armor.”

“She cannot be a duchess. Unless she marries a duke,” said Dior as they walked to join West and Sasha again.

“She will if I can make the king say so,” she murmured.

“Emory is not the kind who bends to your charms,” Dior said, walking around to entertain his daughter.

“He bent to his father’s request,” she pointed out.

Sasha shared a smile with Ellise. “Men can be easily bent if you find the perfect spot,” the duchess agreed.

Both husbands were too wise to argue. When the last carriage that drove in disappeared, they stood. Sasha called to her son, who stood and ran up to her with one toy in hand, lifting his arms to his father. West picked him up, but he pointed at Marion.

“Your daughter is a bad influence,” West grumbled before hoisting his son over his shoulders.

Dior walked with Ellise, the two of them watching the Duke and Duchess of Eaton walk hand in hand toward the manor. Jonah looked over his shoulder at Marion and laughed.

“Even up there he looks pristinely behaved,” Ellise said.

“Apparently, I don’t see what you mean,” Dior said, his eyes covered by their daughter’s tiny hands.

Ellise reached out to take her daughter’s hand, resting her forearm on Dior’s shoulder. “If she marries him, she will be a duchess.”

“I thought she would be a pirate?”

Her gaze locked with her daughter’s black mischievous eyes and she scoffed, shaking her head with a smile. “Of course, she will be. A pirate duchess.”

When they reached the hall of Everleigh, West and Dior brought their children down on the ground to receive the two visitors waiting for them.

Theodora Vandenberg, dressed in a purple cloak, offered a short nod, the closest thing to a curtsy she could feign, while her grandchild, Leila, merely looked on. She, too, was wearing a purple cloak.

“I hope your journey was well, High Priestess,” Sasha said with a smile.

“It was tolerable,” Theodora replied, looking down at the two children. “They grow fast, don’t they?”

“Fortunately, they do,” replied Ellise, walking closer.

“Your brother and his wife were just in Belcourt when we were about to leave. They were taking Mason to his mother’s grave.”

“They do so every month,” said Ellise. “I hope my brother did not attempt to trespass the Library again.”

Leila smiled. “I believe he understood the last threat he received and seems to be keeping his distance.”

“That only means he is looking for another way to get in.”

“Will the Maidens be joining us?” Dior asked as he tried to keep his daughter in place with both hands.

“Not in this convention, I’m afraid. Belcourt is busy for the upcoming Courting season,” replied Theodora.

“Very well,” said West, looking around for the nannies. “We should proceed. King Emory is arriving soon.”

“Do not hurry me, Blackwood. He is just a king,” Theodora said as she turned to allow West to guide her to the grand staircase.

Leila, on the other hand, stayed where she stood. “I can watch over them,” she told Dior, already reaching for Marion’s eager hands. To Sasha, she added, “If you do not mind.”

Sasha nodded and gave her son a light push. “Show Leila to your playroom, darling.”

Jonah took Leila’s hand, asking, “Did you bring toys?”

“I did not. But we can make some.”

“Do not murder them,” Ellise said as Leila turned around with the children.

“I shall try not to make it seem like a crime,” the girl said over her shoulder.

---

They joined West and Theodora in the only room in the manor that was designated for the secret convention.

The Black Clover met twice a year, the first one being last year after the events in Belcourt. With Theodora Vandenberg as the new High Priestess, Belcourt was serving a different purpose to the kingdom. After Louis stepped down from his throne and passed the crown to his son, Emory made some drastic changes, among them utilizing Belcourt’s talents. And of course, he could not simply ignore the Royal Circus. Thus, he formed the Black Clover.

An alliance between the kingdom, Belcourt, and the Royal Circus, the Black Clover shall uphold Sutherland’s security. The Royal Circus, with the influence and reach of its members, was tasked in monitoring Sutherland’s external threats. Belcourt was given the special task to handle covert missions, working closely with the Royal Watchers to safeguard Sutherland and its citizens from within. They were still an orphanage for young girls, but their laws had been revised to protect the children and the women. Anyone could leave Belcourt, but it seemed that not many of them wanted to.

To keep the peace between everyone, the new king called on all members of the Black Clover twice a year, the convention taking place wherever the host of the convention wanted it to be. This time, as host, the Royal Circus decided that Everleigh was the best place.

King Emory arrived last with his trusted advisers not long after the key members of the Royal Circus joined them. The large chamber was closed for the duration of the day and the Black Clover convention began.

That night, after a long dinner, Ellise and her husband took a walk around Everleigh grounds.

“My brother believes still to this day that I only married you for convenience,” she told him. “I never thought he considers me a liar.”

“It depends on the truth you told him.”

“I told him I married you because I wanted to.”

He smiled. “I see why he would insist you’re a liar.”

They walked quietly, their footsteps slow. “But you don’t believe the same, do you?”

When he did not reply, she stopped and turned to face him. He had a slight smile on his lips. “There are moments I doubt why you married me, Elle.”

She scowled. “Which moments?”

He shrugged and continued walking, tugging at her hand.

Again, she stopped, forcing him to do the same. “You are not daft. You should know by now.”

His smile was patient and knowing. “I can only guess, Elle. I do not know everything.”

“That’s odd. Because I am certain you are in love with me.”

“Of course, I am.” His smile widened and he started to tug at her hand again. “And I’m starting to believe you feel the same.”

She walked with him, her brows still fused. “I fence with you and our friends even when I do not want to.”

“I know.”

“And I conceded to the name Marion.”

“Only after you learned it means ‘star of the sea’, which is much preferable to Sally.”

“Sally’s not a bad name.”

“Of course,” he said, squeezing her hand. “It suited your first horse quite well.”

“She was a marvelous horse.”

He merely chuckled and silence fell between them again.

“I changed all curtains to the colors you can recognize.”

“Much appreciated.”

“I sleep in your bedchamber.”

“And we both enjoy it.”

“I bathe with you, dine with you. I tell you everything.” Her frown grew deeper as she talked. “I even wore a dress on our wedding day. And I talk to your mother respectfully. I no longer even flirt with men or women. And that time my brother—”

“Elle,” he said, laughing and turning to face her. “I know.”

“Well, two minutes ago, you didn’t,” she ground out. “You are not just Mondays to me, Robert Dior. I accepted you as my other half.”

“Good Lord, woman, you can just say it.”

Ellise closed her mouth and mastered herself. “I do love you.”

He nodded and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I know. And I love you, too.”

As he led her down the path again, she said, “Should I expect to hear it often?”

“It depends.”

“Do you expect to hear it often?”

“Only if you are inclined to.”

“Good. Where are we going?”

“Back to the manor. We’ll check if our child is still where she is. And then in our chambers.”

She grinned. “Because I made you terribly happy?”

He kissed her mouth. “Terribly.”

---

The convention lasted two days and Leila did nothing but roam around the estate with the two children. She was not the High Priestess, but she would take over once her grandmother saw it fit. They departed Everleigh cordially and traveled back to Coulway.

But before they went straight home to Belcourt, they made a short trip. The villa of the Earl and Countess of Chalbarth was near the park and that’s where they ordered their carriage to stop.

Trent and Caroline Durham were sitting on a bench, talking. But Leila’s eyes were not on them, but on the girl drawing on a notebook. Leila had seen that notebook many times before. That’s where Camila and Jamie planned their future together.

She was still to gather the courage to go and face Camila. Perhaps she never would. Arielle had done many horrible things, but causing the death of Jamie was the worst for Leila.

Her grandmother had been sitting silently beside her as she always did whenever Leila wanted to see Camila in this manner. This time, however, she spoke. “When you become High Priestess again, you will do things better than we all did.”

She merely nodded, absently gazing at Camila sitting alone with her notebook.

“That’s why you’re with me, darling,” Theodora said, taking her hand. “As Vandenbergs, we can no longer take royal roles if we want to keep Belcourt. The queen is the last. But we shall do our best to do better to give these people the safe place the previous High Priestesses tried to take away from them. And we shall do so without a crown on our heads.”

She merely nodded. She was amongst the High Priestesses who did terrible things. And she was only forgiven because she was merely a child. Thus, she was given a second chance.

She offered her grandmother a faint smile. “I do not need a kingdom to provide Belcourt redemption,” she said. “Belcourt has enough to prove its worth to this kingdom.”

---

Leo was jostled awake. He mumbled, half his brain still in slumber.

“I believe your father will one day find the chance to kill me,” the voice above him said.

He opened one eye and the blurry vision of his wife cleared. “Are you telling me you are still alive?” He asked in mock horror, sitting up in bed and looking around with eyes wide open. “But how did you survive this long?”

Esther was already dressed, and clearly, she had already broken fast. And if he was correct, she did so with her father. When she scowled, hands on her hips, he laughed and slid back under the covers.

They were married one month now and thus far, nothing significant had happened. They kissed merely once (on their wedding day). Then nothing. He was not even complaining. They were not in this marriage for anything but the peace of Sutherland. But if he was to really assess what they were, he could say they were friends who enjoyed hating each other.

And mayhap he would love doing it for years. They had discussed how they should address any possible affairs with others, and had reached a satisfactory agreement that every relationship they may have should be consulted with the other. Leo would not want a man who could potentially be a spy, nor would she want a woman who could very well be targeting her royal head.

“We should not have brought him along,” Esther said, walking over to pull the curtains to the side. “He obviously hates this place.”

“Have a heart. He doesn’t have anyone else. And he doesn’t have a crown on his head, the same one he had planned to take back for years.”

“Marrying you may be part of our deal, but traveling around with your father is not.”

“Then what do you suggest we do? Bring him back to Sutherland? He may change his mind and say he wants his throne back. Then he would start another war just when we stopped one from starting.”

She sighed, then fell quiet.

Leo looked over at her. Their eyes met. She never went against her father’s wishes when he told her of the deal he made with Reginald. Nor did she show any hesitation when her mother ordered her to join Leo on a trip around the world.

Of all the women he could have married, he got a fractured one. And it was not even her fault. Like many royals, she was born to obey. She may not like traveling with him now, but Leo vowed to make her experience the things she never had back in Sutherland. Utter freedom from her family.

But it would not be an easy task. She had done many evil things and she would struggle to confront those demons. Traveling could always do that to a person.

“What?” she asked, rolling her eyes.

“If we give him a grandchild, he may start to ignore you,” he said in jest.

She scowled, as if he just said something horrible. “I knew it. You are out to seduce me.”

“I truly admire your confidence,” he said, slipping out of bed. Shrugging into a robe, he murmured, “Americans love confidence. Perhaps you might find a fine gentleman tonight at the ball.”

“I am not going.”

“Whyever not?”

“People know me here.”

He blinked, then sighed in understanding. “I thought you said you don’t mind being judged.”

“Well, people stare differently here.”

Leo walked closer and realized she looked utterly serious. There was nothing there but troubled pride. “Do you ever wonder that mayhap they stare at you because you embody what they want to be?”

“A stupid, insane princess from Sutherland?”

“Insane, yes, but not stupid. Whoever said you are stupid? Tell me their names.”

“Why?”

“So I can have a word with them.” He grinned when she merely scowled. “Do you doubt my honor?”

“You were never the type to do such things.”

“I sacrificed my life for you, Princess.”

“You were stabbed because you were outnumbered. I was not even there.”

“No, I meant marrying you.” He laughed when her eyes rounded in fury. He cupped her face. “Now, stop fuming. We have a long day.”

Not long after Leo left, Esther looked down at the street outside their small villa. This was not her first time to be here, of course. She had enjoyed many soirees in the prominent parts of the Americas, but never as who she was now. She never thought her old friends would turn their backs on her now that she was no longer the daughter of the king, but just the sister —and how that came to be. And now that the rumors of her deeds in Sutherland crossed the seas, she realized just how frail and superficial the relationships she had built here before. Some even dared judge her husband. It took all her willpower not to do something. These people did not know the sacrifice Leo did. He gave up the chance to be king. That should say enough for his character.

She thought it was stupid that he would rather travel around the world, but being away from Sutherland was giving him life. He was happier. He was free.

As for her, being away was only taking her closer to the things she had done. It was giving her time to think and look back. She had helped murder her brother, killed others as well. She manipulated a woman to get to her goal, and that same woman was dead, too.

Esther swallowed and blinked back the tears. She turned to the bed and sighed. She may not get the kind of marriage others had, but she at least had someone who understood her demons.

She walked to the door to find Leo. She needed a gown for tonight’s ball.

---

Sheridan sat quietly beside Ruby’s grave. It was a simple tombstone, but one filled with beautiful flowers Sheridan carefully selected and procured. Ruby would not want anything ordinary on her already plain tombstone.

There was nothing to sit on because the cemetery behind the convent did not have enough space. So Sheridan read the last pages of her book on the ground in silence. Later, Mother Marissa checked on her. “Are you staying for supper?”

She shook her head. “I am needed in Coulway. I have a paper to run and stories to tell.”

The woman chuckled, shaking her head. “You work too much, Sherry. Very well, see me before you leave.”

“I will.”

When the woman left, Sheridan looked up at the sky breaking into dusk. It was the color of rose and she bit down into her smile, the magnificent view blurring as tears warmed her eyes. She closed her lids, refusing to shed more tears, and rested her head on her knees, imagining Ruby lying on the grass beside her with her beautiful, confident smile.

But there was no Ruby there. Just memory of a woman who had so much color in her.

Sheridan smiled against the pang in her chest, one that hummed every now and then, reminding her of things that never came. Of a promise never satisfied.

“Stop crying, Sherry,” Ruby would say if she was here. “How would you appreciate the sky if you can’t see it?”

Sheridan sniffled and tilted her head up again, blinking away the tears, clearing her view.

“Someday, Ruby, I’ll tell your story, too.”

---

Arielle was quiet inside the carriage.

The Soldiers assigned to travel with her had not spoken a word as well.

No one had to say it, but she knew they were taking her to Sinhold.

There were no goodbyes when she left. Belcourt did not want anything to do with her anymore. She was taken care of for months, kept inside a decent cell in the dungeon, given meals and allowed visitors. But she knew as well as everyone else what her fate would be.

They were fools. They never saw her vision. Never dared look beyond their limited imaginations. They could have had everything!

Now she had nothing. Soon, not even her own life.

There was no Sinhold. There was just the dark ocean to swallow her whole, never to be found again.

Found.

How many children in Belcourt wanted to be found?

Everyone.

One way or the other, they longed for eyes to land on them, to claim them as their own. To be desired not as women, but as children. To be needed not for what they could offer, but for what they were.

It may never happen, she thought. Not when Belcourt was ready to be used again. Not until Belcourt was ready for a true leader with a vision.

The carriage drew to a stop. When the door opened, Arielle frowned. There was no Belcourt schooner waiting for her. There was just a small boat. And a ship not far away.

“What is this?” she asked the Soldier who guided her toward the boat. “Where am I headed?” she asked, scowling at the ship in the distance.

“The Witch is taking you somewhere far.”

She stopped and looked at the Soldier with horrified eyes. “Where?”

“You will know once you board.” The Soldier looked at her, stepped back, and added, “By the orders of the Black Clover, you are henceforth exiled out of Sutherland. Never attempt to return. To do so is to die.”

Arielle let out a tiny gasp of disbelief. She did not even know the woman before her. In fact, she did not know anyone around her. Perhaps she should have let West Blackwood see her off when he offered. But what was the point? She had thought she was going to her death. She did not know she was going to hell. To live alone somewhere out of Sutherland—out of Belcourt—would be torture.

What would be the odds that she would be ever found there?

Her eyes scanned the four Soldiers standing nearby. Then her gaze landed on a dark carriage parked not far away. It was as if whoever was inside had been waiting and watching. She looked at it for a long time, imagining him seeing her now. Was he responsible for this? Did he ask for this kind of punishment for her?

He should just get out and let her see his face for the last time. But he would never do that. He would always remain a coward.

Finally, realizing this was the closest she would ever have of a goodbye from her father, Arielle tore her eyes off his carriage. With a shaky breath, she faced the dark ocean and the silhouette of the Witch in the distance.

She looked up. The night sky had closed, hiding a slight rumble.

Rain. Sutherland would soon wash off every trace of her footsteps.

Louis thought he was giving her mercy, but by sparing her life, he was merely giving her more reasons to hate him.

There was no mercy for the hated.

Just false hopes and uncertainty. And so much fear.

---

The night was young, but it was not a challenge to the Soldier traversing through the narrow alleyways of the most dangerous place in Coulway. Her footsteps were light and certain through the puddles of rainwater. Rain was always a good cover, she thought as she made the final turn.

He was waiting outside the blue door wearing naught but a bowler hat and his coat. He did not move even when she stood beside him, her hood dripping wet.

“Belcourt needs a favor from the Circus.”

“What favor?”

“The Governess has made another attack.”

“I’ve heard.”

“We believe it is someone working in a brothel.”

He moved, but only to steal her a look. “And Belcourt could not penetrate a brothel?”

“We can, but we require someone we do not have.”

“You mean a man.”

“Yes.”

“The Royal Watchers are of no help?” When she did not reply, he added, “The Royal Circus only handles external threats to Sutherland.”

“Yes, but no one is more capable in spying and infiltrating innocent brothels than the Circus.”

“Not quite funny.”

“The insult was not meant to be funny.”

He scoffed, then shook his head. “I’ll find someone who can help.”

“Thank you. I’d prefer if you can recommend someone the soonest you can. The Governess has already killed six.”

“I will send word once I have someone.”

“Good. I’ll tell him about the mission then.”

As she turned to leave, he said, “It is nice seeing you again, Gabrielle Shaw.”

“I don’t think so, Fairborne,” she said over her shoulder before she disappeared in a corner.

---

The morning light washed over them, the fresh morning dew after a night of rain seeping through the one open window in the master chambers of Everleigh manor.

Sasha was up early, sewing a patch on her husband’s favorite riding breeches. He was reading reports in bed, fingers absently fiddling with her nightdress. When he looked up and caught a sight of her, he smiled.

“What?” Sasha asked, eyes on her needle and thread.

“Dust motes,” he said. “Floating around you.”

She looked up and saw the tiny particles floating weightless in the beams of light. She scoffed. “I look like a painting?”

“No, like a furniture gathering dust,” he said in jest, ducking away when she threw her work at him. She circled the bed as he laughed and slipped into a robe.

He did the same, catching her in time before she reached the door. “Where are you going, Your Grace?” he asked in her neck, pulling her tight into his arms.

“Our son.”

“Give me one more minute,” he said, kissing her jaw.

“We have much to do, Your Grace.”

“No, not really.”

“Well, I do. I have callers in a few hours.”

“Feign a faint.”

She laughed and pushed him away.

“You are the Fainting Belle. You can do it,” he said, catching her hand and pulling her back to him.

“When will you ever forget about it?”

“Never,” he said, kissing her pursed lips.

Sasha sighed and gazed up at him, her smile growing by each second. She, too, would never forget the Fainting Belle. Nor would she ever forget being a Belle. She was all those women. As was she that girl who walked the twenty miles in the rain to get to Belcourt, the Librarian who failed her studies. A Darcy who betrayed the only home she knew.

And she was the woman after those women—a wife, a mother.

“Let us spend the day in the woods,” West suggested. “You love the meadow in this season. Jonah needs the fresh air.”

She smiled and looked out the window, excitement brewing inside her. She could already picture Jonah walking through the tall grass while they walked behind him. She wrinkled her nose, containing herself. “I have important people to entertain today. And there are letters to send to Belcourt.” She stole the window another glance, then groaned. “But it’s autumn.”

He bent and smiled against her lips. “And you love autumn,” he murmured.

She surrendered with a chuckle. “Indeed I do.”

Author’s Note

What follows this chapter is a series of Exclusive Contents:

1. THE ARTEMIS - a short story. 

As Gabrielle and Rider solve a crime years after the Belcourt Conflict, they also discover something that had always been brewing between them from the start.

2. DAINTY DALLIANCE - a short story.

To get a lover, on-the-shelf Camila Comhar has to learn the art of seduction and there’s no better teacher than the charming Frederick Knightley. She’s an eager student, he’s a marvelous tutor. But what happens when they get to the lesson on kisses?

---

As you read this, know that I’m utterly grateful. This series has been very challenging in many ways. It survived the pandemic, and helped me stay sane by writing it. As a nurse, my experience in the last two years was something I would never forget, both professionally and personally. The Sutherland series gave me a different kind of purpose while I fought the pandemic with everyone else. It gave me a space where I could create things in a time when I barely had control of what was going on. And this series would not have had a conclusion either if not for you and your support.

While I did have the plot and my outline ready, I would have lost the drive to finish this series without the support from readers. Your comments and engagement helped me a lot, gave me the right amount of inspiration to push through.

I’ve always planned this series as a groundwork for future ones. I have now created a world–a kingdom–with its own history. And from that history, many other stories shall surface. I’ve already started that with A Stark Mismatch, which showed a different side of Sutherland. And I’ve just started to show more about other people not directly related to the characters in this series with my new family series, Abberton.

But, of course, to those who had been reading my works for years, I will never stay long writing about quirky, feel-good family stories like the Abberton series. As someone who thrives on mystery/thriller with a dash of romance, you can be assured that there will be more.

Again, THANK YOU!

Best,

J.D. Ruiz (greenwriter)

[FREE PREVIEW] The Artemis - I. The Goddess

1815

Artemis was built to ignore social norms. Its owners—friends who were once just members of a small book club—were adamant about cementing their place in society.

After its controversial opening, it slowly built its own reputation, gaining the interest of women who were bored with the life designed for them by men. And in just a few years, the first ever club for ladies eventually gained the respect and acceptance it strived for from the same people they wanted to serve: the women.

As more news about the place spread, wives and daughters suddenly wanted a place that rivaled the famous gentleman’s clubs in the city of Coulway. A place where they could gamble, drink, and, in last night’s case, murder one of their own.

The woman in the green cloak walked over the mound of shoveled snow and up the steps. With gloved hands, she showed her golden brooch to the Royal Watcher guarding the double doors of the club. Her breath was visible as she spoke, her voice cold as the winter morning. “Belcourt Soldier.”

The man studied the insignia on the brooch: two swords crossed with the word Soldier below, and Belcourt above. With a curt nod, he let her in.

The place was dimly lit, devoid of what would have been a warm, welcoming scene of ladies in dresses and steaming teacups.

The club only had one corridor for the rooms, as she was told. However, it circled around the open courtyard in the middle and ended at the room she had to reach.

She checked the doors as she passed.

Hestia. Demeter.

She made another turn.

Aphrodite. Athena.

Gabrielle had never set foot in this place before, but she could imagine the place if its patrons were present. Fire would crackle in the giant fireplace of the open parlor floor while soft chatters and laughter would float through the elegant corridors.

And there would be no men.

But not today, because at the end of the last corridor stood two men.

Gabrielle stopped, knowing the name of the room before she could even check.

Eris .

“We’ve been waiting,” the Royal Watcher said when he saw her. “Are you alone?”

“Yes,” she replied, entering the room when they stepped aside. Then she stopped with a frown. “What are you doing here?”

In the middle of the room, wearing a dark coat, stood the one person she least expected. Rider Fairborne, Earl of Keene, was a member of the Royal Circus. They did not handle domestic cases unless…

Her eyes slanted to the scene not far away from the man.

“She’s a foreign national,” Fairborne said, approaching her. “I was called.”

Gabrielle tore her eyes off the woman on the floor and looked around. The room was in total chaos. Chairs had lost their legs, shards of glass scattered in one corner. At another sat a mountain of torn fabrics, and close to it were several ruined books, some of its pages strewn around. “I don’t understand.”

You can read the entire short story on my Patreon at patreon.com/jdruizstories.

[FREE PREVIEW] Dainty Dalliance - I. Lady Camila Comhar

---

To get a lover, on-the-shelf Camila has to learn the art of seduction and there’s no better teacher than the charming Frederick Knightley. She’s an eager student, he’s a marvelous tutor. But what happens when they get to the lesson on kisses?

---

DAINTY DALLIANCE - I. LADY CAMILA COMHAR

Once upon a masquerade ball in Brierwell, a lady sat peacefully inside a little cottage far from the manor, her white mask sitting quietly on a table.

The wind carried the distant music and cheers from the party. She could picture the masked guests dancing around the grand ballroom, the orchestra playing their instruments, gossips being whispered around, marriages being concocted.

For fourteen years now, Lady Camila Comhar had been witness to how the Remington Masked Ball grew from being just a night of gathering to a week-long party. She was there when guests came to honor a precious soul taken too soon. And she was there when everyone else forgot about him.

She folded the letter in her hand with a sigh and her eyes wandered to the small window, seeing nothing but a vast land lined by trees in the distance. Moonlight beamed on her white dress. She absently played with the top layer, staring as it sparkled in the light.

Her fingers froze when she looked up and found a silhouetted figure of a man crossing the yard toward the cottage. Snatching her white mask from the table, she stood and rushed to the wall by the window. Blinking, waiting, she hoped he’d pass by.

She peeked and her lips pursed when the man entered the garden. At the sound of the hinge of the gate, her jaw twitched. Maybe he was just curious. Or maybe he was here for a tryst.

Not here.

Camila put on her mask and exited through the back door, her steps gaining speed when she saw him looking down Philippa’s grave.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, voice just above a whisper.

The man jumped back in surprise.

She could not clearly see his face in the darkness of the garden, but she could tell they weren’t acquainted.

“Looking for a friend,” he said, his surprise gone, replaced by a small smile as his eyes boldly assessed her from head to foot. “He left the gaming hall an hour ago. Couldn’t find him since.”

“Unless your friend is dead, you won’t find him here.”

“Ah, yes.” He looked down at the grave, then at her. “And what are you doing here?” he asked, almost teasingly. His eyes wandered behind her. “Am I interrupting something, my lady?”

“You can’t be here,” she said, advancing toward him, ignoring the question.

He stepped back, stared at her from head to foot with interest, and asked, “Do you own Brierwell?”

Her hands formed into fists inside the folds of her dress. “No.”

His brow arched. “Then I suppose we equally have no rights to be here.” Without giving her a chance to argue, he pointed at Philippa’s tombstone. “Who is Philippa?”

“You don’t know her?”

He scoffed. “I wouldn’t ask if I do.”

“Then I suppose you have lesser right to be here than I do.”

He chuckled, shoulders shaking.

Camila frowned. “You’re foxed.”

“I am. Quite.” He straightened, and only then did she realize how imposing his frame was. If she walked any closer, her head would fall under his chin. And even closer, she’d fit into his shadow. But it was not his height. It was how he tilted his head and gazed at her that made her feel small. “Did you come from inside the cottage?”

“No,” she lied, glad for the mask and the thin layer of tact and confidence it provided.

She lifted her chin as he looked down at her, staring squarely back at his eyes. His face was shadowed by the moonlight behind him, but she could tell his hair was dark, his eyes darker. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Why are you here?” he asked back.

“Answer my question first.”

“If you give me your name, I will.”

She pursed her lips, steadying the furious hammering inside her chest with practiced quiet breaths. “I’m here to meet someone. I’d appreciate if you leave.”

“A tryst now, is it?” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t look like someone who escapes a masked ball to meet a lover.”

“And what do I look like?” The question slipped out of her before she could stop them.

“Let’s see,” he murmured thoughtfully as he assessed her from head to foot. “Someone who doesn’t enjoy the ball, obviously. Maybe you don’t know anyone at the party?”

She scoffed.

“Or maybe you do, and it’s simply too crowded for you. Which makes me wonder… Are you a foreigner? But you don’t sound like one.” He took a step closer in front of her. “You look like a rich girl who grew up secluded from the rest of society.”

Camila’s lips pursed.

He grinned and peered down at her, his gaze boring through her mask. “You’ve never had a lover, but you look like you need one.”

Camila’s let out a sigh. She had humored him long enough. “Please step back. I don’t like brandy in my air.”

He threw his head back and laughed.

“Kindly leave. The cottage and the garden are very dear to the Remingtons.”

He stumbled back, and she scowled at his drunken state. Brushing hair off his forehead, he let his laughter die down before asking, “Are you friends with the Remingtons?”

“No.”

“Then what right do you have to be the self-proclaimed protector of their precious cottage and its garden?”

Camila smiled. “I was born and raised here.”

His smile completely vanished. “You said Brierwell doesn’t belong to you.”

“I’m a woman. I own nothing.” It was her turn to eye him from head to foot. “And you’re one step away from stepping over my niece’s grave.”

He looked behind him and stepped away from Philippa’s gravestone. He broke into a smile and spread his arms wide. With a bow, he said, “I yield.”

“Thank you,” she said, stiffly stepping back.

He looked at her for a few more seconds before finally moving. Then he stopped, giving her a proper bow. “To answer your question, the name is Frederick Knightley, Viscount of Hamford.”

To read the entire short story on my Patreon at patreon.com/jdruizstories.