When the door had closed firmly behind us, I addressed him.
“What is your position here in the palace, Oscar?”
He blinked, seeming startled by the simple nature of the question.
“I’m a junior steward, Your Highness. I’m in charge of the team who look after the rooms used by visiting officers of the Armed Forces.”
I held back a groan. It would have been much simpler if he’d been the personal servant of a particular mage. Naturally a number of the senior members of the Armed Forces were involved in planning our defense, and his knowledge could have come from any of them.
“And you’re sealed, I see.” I indicated his wrists with my eyes, and he nodded.
“Yes, Your Highness.” A note of pride crept into his voice. “For five years now.”
“You’re needed on a matter of great importance,” I told him, making my tone serious and more pompous than usual. “But I’m afraid we’ll need to enlist your patience. If you could please wait with Elsie in here.”
She had been leading us as we talked down yet another corridor and now opened a door with a flourish. A small, empty meeting room was revealed, furnished simply and with a slim window looking over the palace grounds. I gave her an approving look. Perfect.
“I will be back to fetch you both as soon as can be arranged,” I said.
Oscar bowed deeply. “Of course, Your Highness. I am always happy to serve in whatever way the crown desires.”
I exchanged a speaking glance with Elsie, who gave me a decided nod, a stern look in her eyes. I could trust her to say nothing of import and to keep him here until I returned.
I once again hurried through the corridors of the palace, this time heading for the wing occupied by my aunt. Unless she was entertaining dignitaries, she usually ate a simple lunch in her study, so I directed my feet there first.
When I turned the corner and saw the two guards stationed outside her office door, I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t relished the idea of having to search the palace for her.
I gave the more senior of the guards an inquiring look when I arrived at the door. They would know if she was currently available to visitors—as long as they were of sufficient rank, of course.
“She’s not to be disturbed, Your Highness,” he said, a regretful note in his voice.
My lips tightened into a thin line. That complicated matters, but the situation couldn’t wait.
“Is she in a meeting?” I asked.
“No, Your Highness,” he said. “But she left strict instructions.”
A sudden memory flooded me of pain ripping through my body after Castor dragged me from the ball. I narrowed my eyes.
“I’m afraid this can’t wait.” Catching them both by surprise, I gripped the door handle and twisted.
I had the door open and was halfway into the room before someone grabbed my arms from behind, jerking me to a stop. I ignored the guard’s hold on me, my eyes focusing on my aunt. She sat at her vast desk, a groove between her eyes and a pen in her hand.
She met my gaze, a hint of surprise crossing her face before she waved her free hand to signal to the guards. They let me go, and I continued forward into the room without looking back.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” the more senior of them said, and I could hear the faintest anxiety in his voice.
“A visit from my favorite niece is always welcome,” she replied. “My family do not fall into the same category as the Mage Council.”
I heard the rustle of their uniforms as the guards bowed again before retreating from the room. Part of me screamed the lie at her words, still remembering the night before, but another part remembered my mother’s words from lunch. Perhaps Aunt Lucienne did recognize the value of family—even if she wasn’t always the best at showing it.
“I’m sorry to barge in on you in such a way, Aunt. But it couldn’t wait.” I nodded at her desk. “I hope I didn’t interrupt you mid-composition.”
If she was halfway through composing, then an interruption could be more than unwelcome, it could be dangerous.
She laid her pen down with a quick shake of her head.
“Nothing of such import. I merely wished some mental space.” She directed a conspiratorial smile at me. “To tell truth, the Head of the Creators has been hounding me all week, and I merely sought a few moments of peace. I trust you are not here to upbraid me for our previous interaction.”
I almost laughed at the idea that I might have dared push into her office in such a way if that had been my purpose.
“No, indeed. Although I wish for all our sakes it was something so simple.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You see me rapt with interest.”
“The junior steward in charge of the visiting officers from the Armed Forces has somehow found out about Conall. And he’s been boasting about it to my personal servant. I thought everyone who knew about this knew it needed to be kept utterly quiet?”
She drew in a long breath through her nostrils before saying in an icy voice, “They do.”
“Well, someone is being careless. And we can’t afford for someone to be careless.”
“How did he hear it?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I got him out of the servants’ hall and have isolated him with Elsie to keep watch, but I haven’t told him why. I wasn’t sure what approach you’d want to take, and I didn’t want to let him know that the information is correct—or how important it is.”
My aunt nodded in approval. “You did the right thing. We will have to be careful in how we deal with him.” Her eyes narrowed. “Although I will be less careful with whoever told him.”
“It’s possible he just overheard it.”
“That is only marginally more excusable. Everyone involved in the meetings should know better than to let themselves be overheard.” She stood up, her manner brisk. “We need to know how he heard and who he’s told. And then we need to make sure he doesn’t tell anyone else. I will deal with the careless mage who divulged the information.”
“Do you want to use a composition on the servant?” I asked.
She looked at me for a moment. “You should do it. It makes sense for you to be the one to talk to him, since you already have. You can use your ability to connect with your mother, and then you can speak a composition without him ever knowing anything about it.”
My mouth fell open. “You want me to steal my mother’s ability?”
“Why not?”
I shook my head, struggling for words. “Because she’s my mother. Because her ability is incredibly powerful, and I’ve never tried to use it before. Because there’s no urgent need—we could just ask her to help us directly. She doesn’t have to be in the room.”
A slight smile broke across my aunt’s face, and I realized her words had been yet another test. I relaxed.
“You can ask for her help if you like, Verene, but I think you should consider asking her if you can borrow her ability and do it yourself. You need to practice, and it’s a good opportunity.”
My mouth nearly dropped open again. Use my mother’s ability? The thought sent an uncomfortable, shivery feeling down my spine. But lingering behind it was a curiosity I couldn’t deny. What did my mother’s unique ability feel like? And what would it be like to wield it?