Page 48 of The Rebel and the Rose
A better kingdom.
A better world.
So long as Ransom was a Dagger, he would always be her enemy.
And yet, if she was going to betray him and the king’s mission, he mustn’t see it coming. He mustn’t know what she was truly capable of.
Even if she didn’t quite yet know herself.
Chapter 12Ransom
It was an hour past dawn, and Ransom was pacing in the south courtyard of the Summer Palace. Its towering white-stone turrets wound up to brush the blushing sky while the rising sun kissed the South Sea. The waves glistened, the eager grey gulls swooping low over the water, hunting for fish. In the air, the tang of seaweed mingled with the sweet scent of the queen’s prized rose bushes.
A nearby tinkling fountain added a sense of peace to the morning. But a war waged inside Ransom. Where the hell were Seraphine and Versini?
Outside the towering palace gates, by the leafy arch that led into the royal graveyard of Valterre, three large black carriages were waiting. Though gleaming and pulled by the finest of coach horses, each one was conspicuously absent of the officialroyal crest – a rose crossed with two swords. From the Summer Palace, they were to turn their backs to the sea and travel north undercover, lest any eagle-eyed rebel spies find out the king’s nefarious plans for his nephew.
In his ten years as a Dagger, the job had rarely taken Ransom beyond the bounds of the capital, and the marks that led him further astray were never more than an hour or two by carriage. But this mark was mercurial and fast-moving. Prince Andreas could be anywhere in Valterre, as close as the taverns in east Fantome or as far as the low hills that bordered Urnica.
They would begin their search at the Appoline, the university where Prince Andreas had spent the last few years of his life, no doubt coming up with plans for the eventual usurpation of his uncle. From there, the trail could go cold at once, or branch off into several new directions.
There were concerns to consider, like how well Lisette would run the Order in Ransom’s and Nadia’s absence and whether its remaining members would be able to withstand the rising demands brought about by the chaos in the capital. At least with Seraphine under his supervision, her next shipment of Lightfire would be delayed, allowing the Daggers the upper hand once more. He hated to admit they needed it, that eventually the swelling rebellion would become too much for them and the Shade at their disposal.
Pushing those worries aside, Ransom focused on his impatience, glaring at the doors to the Summer Palace with an intensity that made his head throb.
‘Keep staring. That’ll definitely make her appear faster,’ remarked Caruso, who was kicking the rounded heads offthe king’s Buxus plants. They soared over the rose bushes and into the garden pond, where Nadia was skimming pebbles so violently it looked like she was trying to wound the water.
A bored Dagger made for a destructive Dagger.
A pair of nearby sentries gave Caruso an admonishing glare, but neither moved to rebuke him. Only a fool would square up to one of the king’s assassins.
‘Can you not vandalize everything you lay your eyes on?’ said Ransom, like he was scolding a child. ‘Believe me, you wouldn’t like the dungeons here.’
Caruso barked a laugh. ‘Like they’d dare drag me down there.’
‘They will if you piss off the queen. These are her gardens.’
‘She has a hundred gardens. And she’s not even in residence here. The maids say she’s back at Bellevue Castle with her little gremlins. Probably thinks the king is a pig. Did you see the way he eats? Doesn’t even chew his food.’
‘Speak louder. I don’t think they heard you down in the servants’ quarters.’
‘How long more do we have to wait?’
‘Go and bother Nadia if you’re bored.’
‘Why, so you can brood in peace?’
‘I’m not brooding. I’m thinking.’
About her.
He replayed their conversation from last night. The fire in her eyes so at odds with the bruises marring her face. That barbed tongue and smart mouth, the softness of her skin under his cruel, callused hands. The anger he had tried so hard to cling to had fractured at the sight of her sitting in the dark.The confusion on her face when he’d questioned her about Lark. It had seemed genuine.
Ransom had reported it to Nadia this morning over breakfast. She had rolled her eyes as she sipped her coffee, tossing him that piteous look he had grown to hate, the one that relegated him to some addled lovesick fool.
She’s a slight little thing, Caruso had reasoned, around a mouthful of bacon.I can’t imagine her lugging a skeleton out of the ground. And her man’s got clean fingernails. Versinis don’t like to get their hands dirty.
Unless you count all the killing they used to do, Ransom had reminded him, with a bite in his voice.And he’s not her man, he’d wanted to add, but what did he know? And what did it matter to Caruso?
