The pair turns to me, curious. I school my expression, hiding my amusement with a press of my lips.
Edwin’s eyes linger on me for several seconds, and then he turns back to Cassia. “Don’t cross the roof on your way back. Simply tell anyone you pass that you and Amalia went for a walk. I will cover for you if necessary.”
Cassia beams at her older brother. “Thank you, Edwin.”
He jerks his head down the tunnel, silently telling us to go on. Cassia continues, heading toward the lantern’s light, but I wait a moment and turn to Rhys’s brother.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
Edwin studies me with a strange expression I can’t quite place. It’s a little melancholy, or maybe he’s just tired.
“You do have a right to see your brother,” he says.
Slowly, I nod.
He lets me go, but I feel as if he wants to say something else. Uncertain, I glance back over my shoulder. The prince stands near the tunnel entrance, arms crossed, looking like he’s carrying too many burdens.
Suddenly, I realize I shouldn’t care. The entire family is wicked and conniving, and they deserve none of my sympathy.
As I follow Cassia, my thoughts churn like thunderclouds in the distance. Unfortunately, I return to one fact repeatedly, no matter how many times I try to think of other things: Rhys is Draegan’s heir.
He’s the man the fairy spoke of in the forest. It’s his throne I’ll sit beside here in Draegan.
My heart pinches with paralyzing relief that’s tempered with pain. How can I ever trust him again?
But I cannot deny there are fissures in my wall of anger, tiny facts that point out that Rhys is likely telling the truth this time. He didn’t want me in Draegan. And more, if he planned to deliver me to his brother, why would he marry me?
I frown as I think about it, almost oblivious to the spider webs around me.
Does Edwin know he’s not the heir? Does the Draeganish king know Edwin isn’t his son?
The whole situation reeks of scandal—it’s something that simply wouldn’t happen in Renove. Do these people know anything of morals? Lies, betrayal, and deception seem to be as familiar to them as air.
I think of the auburn-haired queen in the painting, her pretty smiling face as she was surrounded by her children. Rhys spoke of her with soft affection, his love for her apparent.
But that beautiful woman, the Queen of Draegan, must have had an affair early in her marriage and bore a child who wasn’t her husband’s.
“We’re almost to the end,” Cassia says, drawing me from my thoughts. “Watch your step here. A bit of the wall crumbled, and a few stones have fallen.”
I glance up at the ceiling. “Is the passage safe?”
“I imagine it’s safe enough as long as the castle stands,” the princess answers.
I swallow, less confident in the Draeganish architects of old than Cassia.
Thankfully, we reach our destination without the ceiling caving in on us. Cassia presses her ear against the massive wooden door for a moment, and then she pulls a lever and pushes the wall, revealing daylight.
“All clear,” she says as she steps out, taking the lantern with her.
I follow, glad to be out of the tunnel. An involuntary shiver dances down my spine as I think of the spider webs. I look myself over just to make sure I’m not carrying any stowaways.
Cassia swings the hinged door back into place. With a soft click, it blends in with the rest of the bookcases. I glance around, taking in the room. We appear to be in either a small library or a large study.
“Just one more passage, and we’ll be to Braeton’s quarters.”
“Another passage?” I demand.
The princess turns to me, smiling. “Or we can march up to his guards and tell them we’ve come for a visit.”
Holding back a vexed sigh, I nod her on.
She laughs and walks briskly out of the room, confident I’ll follow.
In a few minutes, Cassia leads me into a small storage room filled with discarded odds and ends—an empty barrel, a rolled-up rug, a few sacks filled with who-knows-what, and other things of the sort.
Cassia opens another hidden door and promises, “This one is shorter.”
Reluctantly, I follow her into the passage, cringing when we spook a mouse. The tiny rodent runs into the storage room and disappears under a bag.
Not the least bit concerned, Cassia closes the door behind us. She leads the way, warning me when we’re near a flight of stairs. Once we’re at the bottom, we reach a dead end with a single door. Quietly, the princess opens the door, revealing the backside of what looks like a heavy tapestry. Daylight shines from underneath it, a bright outline in the dark passage.
“What are you doing?” I whisper to Cassia.
“We’re waiting a moment to make sure Braeton is alone,” she murmurs. “But I don’t hear anyone.”
Gingerly, she pushes the tapestry aside and sticks her head out.
“You’re early,” a man on the other side says. “How did you get out of Calvert’s lessons?”
Tears spring to my eyes the moment I hear the familiar voice.
“I convinced Tryndon to do them today,” Cassia says lightly. “And you’re supposed to keep the door locked.”
“I forgot,” Braeton says, his tone as warm and affectionate as I’ve ever heard it.
Cassia turns back, pushing the tapestry aside. “It’s safe. Come on.”
With my heart beating too quickly, I duck under the fabric and step into the room.
My brother’s smile freezes, and his mouth parts with surprise.
“Amalia,” he says, his voice gritty with emotion.
I choke back a sob and rush across the room, throwing my arms around him. “They said you were dead.”
“I know.” He embraces me so tightly it hurts. “I’m sorry. Truly sorry.”
I nod, clutching him like I’m never going to let go. After several moments of reassuring myself he’s actually here, I step back. “Are you all right? Have they treated you well enough?”
“They threw me in the dungeon a few times, and I contracted the sickness.” Braeton’s eyes move past me, landing on Cassia. “But it wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as it sounds.”
I follow his eyes to the Draeganish princess, bemused.
Before I can question him about it, Braeton clasps my shoulders, pushes me back to arm’s length, and studies me. I brush my tears away and smile, so happy to see him.
“And you?” he asks sternly. “Are you all right?”
I nod.
“Does Father know you’re in Draegan?” he demands.
I glance down and admit, “I told Gage in a note, but I left before he could respond.”
“I was told you married Cassia’s brother,” Braeton says. “Amalia, please tell me it’s not true. A prince of Draegan? What were you thinking?”
“It’s true,” I say quietly. “But I didn’t know Rhys was Draeganish until I arrived in Arowood. He lied to me. Like a fool, I believed him.”
Cassia shifts, obviously uncomfortable with the turn in the conversation. She stares at the ground, looking guilty.
Braeton presses his hand to the side of my head in a sweet, brotherly gesture. “Don’t make yourself sick over it. We’ll escape the castle and go home—Cassia will help us. And I’ll take care of it there. It will be like it never happened.”