Page 53 of Thief of Souls
“Moved on?”
“Her name was Violet.” He puts his spectacles back on and peers over the top of them at me. “Took up with a fancy lord, I was told. Seems she preferred silk sheets to scrubbing her mistress’s floors.”
Violet. There you are, dear sister.Cultivating the same habits as usual. Soraya prefers not to carry her own poisons with her—it’s too easy to be searched. But most courts have an apothecary and I’ve never met one she hasn’t charmed.
It was an educated guess.
And it tells me more than he knows.
Violet is the persona Soraya uses when she wants to play the slightly mysterious maid. The fact she was offering hints that she might be able to assist in certain feminine complications means she was trying to get close to one of the ladies of the court.
She ingratiated herself as Anissa’s maid.
But was her target female?
Or was it this lord who she’s allegedly run off with?
I slide the ring off my finger. “Which lord? I might have use of her….”
The Ragwort Man eyes the ring. “Can’t say I remember.”
Placing my palm flat on the table I slide it toward him. “I would very much like to talk to her.”
His mouth works, as if he’s fighting against his instincts. And then he scowls. “Keep your baubles, my lady. Violet’s gone. As I said, she caught the eye of a fancy lord. I ain’t seen her since.”
“And there’s no one else?”
“None,” he says curtly.
“Maybe I’ll just leave this here,” I tell him, lifting my hand off the ring. “And if you think of someone, you come find me.”
He grunts inconclusively, but makes short work of wrapping up my herbs and then practically pushes me out through his door.
Interesting.
I let the glamor I’m wearing dissolve, sidestep into the shadows, and then settle down to wait. The ill-fitting gown I stole does me few favors—it’s too tight through the hip and bodice, meant for a frame smaller than mine—and I can’t wait to return it.
The ring, however, is lost forever.
Good thing the lady of the Dawn Court doesn’t need it. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside to know I’ve managed another strike against Rhea.
But first, let’s see where this little tidbit takes me….
* * *
It takeshim barely five minutes.
Peering out, the Ragwort Man sees the tower steps are clear and then bustles out, locking his door behind him.
I follow him down the stairs, lingering in every pool of shadow and listening to him mutter under his breath.
The sun’s still high in the sky as he crosses the courtyard, which gives me plenty of shadows to hide in, but avoiding the stream of servants scurrying about their daily business requires all my concentration.
Every step we take leads us further into the court and tightens the tension in my chest.
We’re heading directly into the private wing of the royal family.
There’s a small study just past the first ring of guards, and the Ragwort Man knocks brusquely.
