Page 5 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

It was coming from the ladies’ parlor.

Three

CHARIS FROZE, A millisecond of hesitation as the scream echoed into the corridor. And then she lunged for the doorway.

Reuben got there first. Thrusting his short, wiry body in front of her, he barked, “Secure the princess!”

Elsbet wrapped a strong hand over Charis’s upper arm and pulled her firmly away from the door as Reuben rushed into the room, sword out.

“Let go of me!” Charis tried to jerk her arm free, but Elsbet kept her grip.

Who had screamed? And where was Mother?

An instant later, Milla rushed into the corridor, her hands covered in blood. Three more maids followed on her heels, their eyes wild.

“Mother!” Charis strained against Elsbet’s hold, expecting at any moment to hear the queen’s cold, imperious voice spitting orders and organizing the chaos into something manageable before the guests in the ballroom took notice.

“Your Highness, I’m sorry!” Milla’s voice shook as she pressed against the wall to let another maid rush past. Charis yanked against Elsbet’s grip.

“I have to keep you secure, Your Highness.” Elsbet’s tone was calm, though she watched the princess warily. “Reuben’s orders.”

“Reuben isn’t your princess. I am. You answer only to me.” Charis softened her voice, though it took effort. Elsbet was simply doing her job. “Unhand me so I can assess the situation and help the queen manage it.”

Milla made a noise like a wounded puppy, and Charis stepped toward her. Elsbet released her but stayed by her side.

“Are you injured?”

Milla shook her head, sending fresh tears down her cheeks. A crash and a shout echoed from the parlor. Without wasting another second, Charis crossed the threshold.

Cushions littered the floor. Chunks of broken glass from a smashed bottle of embyrvale perfume glittered among a spill of finely ground rice powder. A wave of sweet floral fragrance mixed with something sharply metallic filled the air.

Reuben stood in the far corner beside an open window, his sword buried in the chest of a man dressed in the finery of a ball guest. Beside them, stretched out on the rug, lay the queen, her hands pressed to her abdomen. Blood poured from her stomach, a dark stain spreading across the dusky purple of her dress.

“Mother!” Charis ran, skidding through the powder and perfume, and threw herself down beside the queen.

“She’s alive.” Reuben grunted as he yanked his sword free. The man collapsed against the wall and slid down, his eyes glassy.

For an instant, Charis waited, expecting Mother to do what she always did: take charge. Think three moves ahead, already anticipating what might happen so that the solution was well in hand before it was needed.

But Mother lay, ashen and shaking, her breath coming in hard pants, her eyes glazed in pain. Charis would be the one taking charge. Grabbing a nearby cushion, she pressed it gently against Mother’s stomach to stanch the bleeding. Then she swallowed hard against the fear that clogged her throat and forced herself to think.

“He’s Montevallian.” Reuben gestured at the dead man’s throat, where a silver emblem gleamed against a leather cord. “Wearing one of their marriage tokens. Must have a family back home.”

“Yet he came all this way to kill mine.” Her stomach pitched, and she snapped, “Send Elsbet to check on Father. Now.”

As Reuben called the order, Charis met Mother’s eyes and found a glimmer of awareness behind the pain.

“The ambassadors . . . ,” the queen whispered.

“I have it handled.” Turning to Reuben, she spoke in the kind of crisp, emotionless voice that would make Mother proud. “Leave the body. Send a maid for Dr. Baust. Instruct the footmen at the ballroom entrance not to allow any guests into this corridor. And whatever you do, make sure every single maid who was in this room stays quiet about what just happened. We cannot risk the ambassadors knowing the queen is vulnerable.”

They couldn’t risk their own nobility knowing it either. Not when half of them seemed to be circling the throne like a pack of starving wolves.

“I want four of Mother’s personal guards brought here to watch over her while Baust treats her wound. Send your most trusted to search every inch of this palace. If there’s another Montevallian spy in our midst, I want them caught.”

“I’m not leaving you here alone and unprotected,” Reuben said, his dark eyes challenging her to argue.

“Then use one of the footmen to get you the help you need. And send Milla back in here.”

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