Morricones, no matter how dangerous it is. You and Grandfather Heinrich have always said nothing is more noble than doing one’s duty and sacrificing one’s happiness for the good of others. So let me do that. Let me live up to your example, to Grandfather’s example. Please.”
I sucked in a breath to keep arguing, but Father dropped his head and held up his hand, asking for quiet. So I perched on the edge of my seat and waited.
Several long, tense seconds passed before he raised his gaze to mine again. “Very well. Stay at Myrkvior, wait for Grimley, and spy on the Morricones in the meantime.”
Happiness flooded my heart. “Thank you, Father.”
He leaned forward and stabbed a finger at me. “But the second you find out what Milo Morricone is plotting, you slip out of the palace and start making your way home to Andvari. And if you think someone knows who you really are, then you forget about the tearstone and leave the palace immediately. That is a direct order from your crown prince. Understood?”
I didn’t like it, but he’d given me far more leeway than I’d expected. “Understood. I’ll be careful. I promise.”
“You’d better be,” he growled. Then his face softened again. “Please be safe, Gemma. I love you.”
“I will. And I love you too. I’ll contact you again as soon as I have any news.”
My father gave me a single, sharp nod, tears gleaming in his eyes. Similar tears stung my own eyes, but once again I blinked them back.
Father kept his gaze locked on my face as I leaned forward and moved the compact away from the mirror, breaking our connection. The glass rippled, and his face vanished, although the throbbing sting of his worry lingered in my heart.
Chapter Fifteen
It wasn’t even noon yet, but it had already been a long day, and I was physically and mentally exhausted. So I stuffed the silver compact into the pocket of my borrowed coat, then stumbled over to the bed, curled up on it, and went to sleep.
Sometime later, a knock sounded, startling me awake. One of the doors creaked open, and a servant girl dressed in a light purple tunic, along with black leggings and boots, poked her head inside the room. She looked to be about thirteen, maybe fourteen, with gray eyes and rosy skin. Her black hair had been twisted up on top of her head, although a couple of long tendrils had escaped to frame her round face, which hadn’t yet lost its last bit of childish softness.
“Pardon me, my lady, but I am Anaka. Princess Delmira asked me to escort you to her chambers so you can dress for dinner.”
“Yes, of course,” I mumbled, my head still spinning with sleep as I got to my feet. “Lead the way.”
Anaka took me back to the strix rotunda and then into another wing of the palace. We stepped through an archway, and I felt as though we had entered another realm. Unlike the chilly, deserted hallways around Leonidas’s library, an army of servants flitted about here, polishing the vases and statues tucked away in various nooks, straightening the paintings and tapestries on the walls, and stoking the fires in the common rooms until the flames added the perfect amount of cheery, crackling warmth to the air.
Scores of palace stewards, nobles, merchants, and guilders also hustled through the corridors, and dozens of conversations trilled through the air. The gargoyle pendant hidden under my tunic grew warm against my skin, but I ignored the sensation and ducked my head, avoiding the curious stares that came my way.
I also kept an eye on the guards, but the men chatted to each other and ogled the pretty servants who raced by, just like the guards at Glitnir did. To everyone else, this was a normal day, but tension twisted my stomach into knots, and the space between my shoulder blades continually itched, as if in anticipation of someone plunging a blade into my back.
Anaka walked past some open doors. Music drifted out of the chambers, accompanied by the dulcet tones of someone singing a sweet melody.
My steps slowed. The song was a common one, but that beautiful voice sounded strangely familiar, as though I had heard the person sing before. Perhaps it was a minstrel or a music master who had visited Glitnir. Despite the simmering hostilities between Andvari and Morta, artisans often traveled between the two courts, as well as to courts in other kingdoms, seeking commissions from