Then Cerúlia dressed in her trousers and shirt, strapped on her dagger, and stuffed her hair into a black beret Nana had found. She noted with approval that her nursemaid had also managed to scrub nearly all traces of the ink out of the pant leg.
“It’s just me,” came Nana’s voice muffled by the hallway door. Cerúlia unlocked it and let her in.
Nana carried a tray of tisane and scones, and she entered with a man following close on her heels.
“It’s quiet as a crypt out there, what with everyone sleeping off all the wine they drank last night,” Nana reported. “Your Majesty, this is Hiccuth. He’s worked in the stables since you were but a tiny babe. You can trust him.”
“I’m your servant, Your Majesty,” said Hiccuth in a voice that choked back tears, bending his knee.
“No, none of that. I am in your debt,” Cerúlia replied. “Have you brought the rope I requested?”
“Indeed.” He stood up and opened his coat, showing that he’d wound a long rope many times around his wide middle.
An unexpected tap on the same door made everyone startle and look at one another. Cerúlia checked that all her hair was safely tucked inside the beret and drew her dagger, holding it behind her leg, while Hiccuth grasped the horseshoe pick hanging on his belt. Nana glanced around to make sure that they were ready and then opened the door a crack.
Tilim and Stahlia stood in the hallway. Cerúlia swiftly ushered them inside.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, aghast, resheathing her knife. “You ought to be sleeping safely on the other side of the building.”
“She,” Tilim pointed at her nursemaid, “told me you are in peril. I’m not a child: I stabbed an intruder in Wyndton a few months ago. I intend to protect you, no matter what you’re up to.”
“Nana!” Cerúlia reprimanded. “And did you involve my foster mother in this too! She’s no business being here—she can’t fight.”
“No, she’s not to blame,” said Stahlia, with her hands on her hips. “I woke up when Tilim tried to tiptoe out of our suite, and I forced him to tell me where he was going. I don’t understand what’s happening, but I will not be left out!”
“This is a dangerous morning. Perilous to all,” Cerúlia protested. “I would not have you injured. In fact, I forbid you to get involved.”
Stahlia folded her arms in a gesture that her daughter knew too well.
In exasperation, the princella tugged on the edge of her beret again. “There’s really no time for an argument. If you must participate, will you follow my directions without question?”
Stahlia and Tilim nodded solemnly.
“All right, then. I need to get inside the Throne Room. The guards have strict instructions never to admit a young woman, so I have devised an unusual route for myself. But I need all the ground-floor doors to the Throne Room unlocked for allies who will be joining us. So, your task is to force the palace guards to unlock these entrances. By dagger point if you have to.”
“By dagger point? That’s a terrible idea,” rejoined Stahlia. “Why don’t we just ask them to unlock this room for us?”
“Why would they do that?” Cerúlia asked, irked that Stahlia was countermanding her very first order.
“Because the room is full of tapestries, and last week, when we first arrived, Lord Matwyck promised me I could study them,” her mother answered matter-of-factly.
Cerúlia paused and paced a few steps, considering. “This is helpful. So—you couldn’t sleep late. You want to study the tapestries and show them to your son. Then Nana, you and Hiccuth come along after one door has been opened and set about freeing more entryways.”
“Here, eat this.” Cerúlia passed Tilim the second half of her scone and Stahlia her cup of tisane. As Tilim crammed the whole portion into his mouth and Stahlia sipped her tea with a small frown holding back her questions, Nana handed Cerúlia two small hourglass pendants that she had borrowed from a cupboard in the lesson chamber.
The princella hung one chain over Stahlia’s head and one over her own. “Look. These both count ten minutes. We’ll turn them over together on my signal. You must get the Throne Room unlocked by the time the sand trickles all the way through.”
The tanager skidded onto the windowsill and ruffled its tail ostentatiously.
One sees no red guards outside now. A big feline awaits thee.
“Sorry, that bird is my signal; I need to leave now.” Quickly, Cerúlia kissed Nana, Tilim, and Stahlia on their brows. She could not just stroll down the Royal Stair, so she led her little group out into the corridor and down the hallway to an arched opening that faced into an inner courtyard. She then drew the wooden shutters.
After glancing around for a suitable anchor, Hiccuth tied his rope around a torch sconce but held the bulk of the pressure across his wide back, letting the free end drop down through the hallway window. Nana stood in front of him, blocking him and the rope from the view of anyone happening to walk their direction. Stahlia and Tilim copied Nana’s action on Hiccuth’s other side. Cerúlia pulled on a pair of leather gloves that had been tucked into her belt, crawled out on the sill, and turned over her timepiece, motioning to Stahlia to do the same.
Then she grabbed the rope with both hands and feet, hanging high in the air.
Her heart was thudding so hard she thought it would burst out of her chest.
She had seen sailors on the Misty Traveler rappel down the ship’s hull, inspecting it for damage. The action looked easy when they did it, but Cerúlia immediately discovered that her upper body had nothing like the sailors’ strength. After a few bad moments when she collided with the wall and wondered if her arms could hold her, she raised her legs and placed her feet to brace herself against the wall. She bounced away, slithered down several paces, kicked off with her feet again, and slithered again. She landed in an untidy thud on the ground.
Seeing her safely down, Hiccuth retracted the rope.
With the blue tanager leading the way, Cerúlia disappeared through an arched doorway, heading toward the rear of the palace and the catamount who lingered outside, ready to escort her to his tunnel.
4
Stahlia could almost solve the puzzle behind all these bewildering events, but whenever she started to understand, her mind skittered away and her thoughts refused to cohere.
Besides, she had no time to ponder; to reach the Throne Room from the fancy chamber where Chamberlain Vilkit had lodged her foster daughter, one merely walked down the corridor and then down a very grand staircase.
The Throne Room of the palace was an enormous chamber ringed by entrances on three sides. The East Entrance, with high double doors of elaborately carved walnut, constituted the formal entryway, while the north and south walls formed the long legs of the rectangle, punctuated by a series of single doors that opened into different annexes and stairways to galleries. To the west, the Throne Room backed onto the palace grounds.
As they approached this historic hall, Stahlia noticed the guards on patrol. Trying to appear nonchalant, she walked up to the East Entrance, Tilim hanging back behind her. The guards watched her approach with neutral expressions.