Page 53 of Shadows and Roses

"No.Idon’ts wants ta talk to ‘im.Theywants to. Cas’s s’posed to meet ‘em."

"Ah. When and where will the meeting be?"

"Cas knows, if ya tell ‘im ‘Summer Market’." He pronounced the last two words carefully.

"Hmm. I’ll see if I can do that. Anything else?"

The boy looked into the hall again, his voice a little quieter. "Um… Can I talk ta Meriana?"

With a raised brow, Vern summoned the girl again and let them speak. At his nod, the guard went to find Castien.

Several minutes of the boy’s prattling and the girl’s soft laughter left him questioning his decision. Fortunately, they both came out the door shortly. The girl bowed to Vern and went about her tasks; the boy grinned, eyeing the courtyard wall.

"Come in through the servants’ entrance next time. It’s by the—"

The boy showed crooked teeth in a wide grin and dashed off, over the walls. Vern frowned. Extra security was called for, he supposed. Though he'd never seen anyone just about fly like that boy did.

Castien

There was no showy feather hat today.

Two guards had greeted—more like accosted—him as he returned to the palace, informing him of the Queen’s summons. His curiosity became wariness when all four guards surrounded him. Protection seemed unlikely; he might be valuable to the Night Courts, but theroyal court wouldn’t miss him.

The reason for his Escort status had been grating on the back of his mind. If the Queen was not lying—and he wanted to believe that—why had he been made an Escort rather than provided a single bracer? That would have been sufficient protection. So, he suspected the question actually was: why did the Queen want him to trust her?

When the guards led him into this small, windowless side room, his wariness had been proven correct. The room was sparse with only a table and two chairs. No chains, at least, though being held at all certainly wasn’t engendering trust.

The door opened while he idly ran a finger through the dust.

"Please take a seat, Castien." The Duchess Laureline’s expression wasn’t friendly, and neither was the guard standing against the closed door.

Bowing smoothly, the courtesan slid into a chair. "A pleasure to see you, my lady, though it is a strange place we find ourselves in."

Laureline didn’t play along. She watched him with an almost familiar mercurial gaze. "Tell me what you know of the rebels."

A small frown crossed his brow. "Rebels? Nothing more than rumors."

"They asked for you by name. Are the rebels working with the Night Courts?"

"Who asked for me?" Had they captured Damon? He couldn’t voice that question. "No, wait—Why would the Night Courts work with rebels?" The Night Courts was one of the wealthiest and most powerful merchant establishments. They thrived in the status quo.

"Your city friends then. How often do you speak to them?"

"Not since I was brought to the palace."

She blinked at him slowly. That was too familiar—so she had been interrogating him before.

He stared back and took a chance. "What did they say, when they asked for me?"

The silence was odd, as though the air had sharpened and condensed. He glared. He'd done nothing wrong.

She finally spoke. "Summer market. Tell me what that means."

Nothing much. Unless he connected it with Damon.Damn him.

"Let me talk to Anais." Anais. When had he become so familiar with the Queen?

She contemplated him again, her words slow. "Are you a threat, Castien?"

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