The Beauty of Darkness - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,126
gently eased open the door and searched there too, but short of tasting every elixir and waiting to see the effect, I had no way of knowing what may have caused my father’s weak and confused state. Maybe it was his heart. Maybe I had broken it just as the rumors said. I returned to his chamber, and my eyes lit on the box of herbs and liniments again. The physician had always disdained the cook’s kitchen remedies. When Aunt Bernette made tea from rapsi blossoms for Aunt Cloris’s headaches, he would shake his head and smirk. I searched through it again, more carefully this time.
Beneath the other bottles, I found a small vial no bigger than my little finger. It was filled with a golden powder I’d never seen. An herb for the heart the nurse was neglecting to give him? I pulled the cork from the vial, but could detect no herbal scent and began to lift it closer to my nose. No. Don’t. I held it at arm’s length, examining the shimmering gold, then replaced the cork and set it back with the others, shutting the lid.
“Your Highness.”
I spun. The Chancellor stood there in all his glory, his crimson robes flowing, his knuckles glittering, his arrogant tight-lipped smile beaming with triumph. Two guards with drawn swords stood behind him. “How amusing that your note said I should be afraid,” he said, his tone cheerful. “I think, my dear, it is you who should be afraid.”
I glared at him. “Don’t be so sure.” I shrugged off my cloak so my weapons were easier to draw and looked past him to the guards. I didn’t recognize them. Had he changed the guard who kept the citadelle secure? Still, they wore the Royal Guard insignia. “Lay your weapons down,” I told them. “By all that is holy, do not defend this man. He’s a traitor who’s sending my brothers into an ambush. Please—”
“Really, Princess,” the Chancellor said, shaking his head, “I thought groveling was beneath you. We all know who the real traitor is. You’re a declared enemy of the realm. Your blood runs so cold that you killed your own brother—”
“I did not kill him! I—”
“Seize her,” the Chancellor said, stepping aside.
The guards came at me, but instead of running away, I lunged forward, and in a blurred second, one of my arms had hooked the Chancellor’s neck, while the other held a knife to his throat.
“Get back!” I ordered.
The guards paused, swords ready to strike, but they didn’t retreat.
“Step back, you fools!” the Chancellor yelled, feeling the sting of my knife pressing into his flesh.
They backed up cautiously, stopping against the opposite wall.
“That’s better,” I said, then whispered in the Chancellor’s ear, “Now, what were you saying about being afraid?” Though I loved the feel of his racing heart beneath my arm, I heard footsteps pounding down the hallway toward us. More guards had already been alerted, and I probably had only seconds before all my exits would be blocked. I pulled him back with me toward the physician’s door, and when it was only a step behind me, I shoved him so he stumbled forward. I slipped inside the room, barring the door behind me. In seconds the guards were ramming against it, and I heard the Chancellor screaming on the other side to break it down.
I went to the window and threw open the shutter, but there was no ledge for escape. I looked down to a balcony directly beneath the window—it was a twenty-foot drop onto hard stone, but I couldn’t see any other option. I eased myself out, hanging from the window by my fingertips, then let go. I rolled with the fall, but the impact still sent splitting pain up my leg. I fled, limping as I ran, my route now a wild and haphazard one, darting into rooms, hallways, redirecting my steps when I heard the pounding of footsteps in pursuit. I raced down a dark servant’s stairway, and then an empty hall, the shouts getting weaker, their search still confined to the upper floors. I was at the back of the citadelle, heading down a long dark passage for the rarely used servant’s entrance that Pauline and I had escaped through. I had just slid the latch open when I heard a metallic chink, and I spun toward the sound. A strange keening whir filled the air and then a loud thunk, thunk, thunk.