way to take it from her without suspicion. If only I knew for certain the thing is a fake. If it’s not, and she ever learns what it is…”
“She won’t,” the queen said with weary resignation. “You know perfectly well she has no magic. You confirmed that with every source at your disposal. And if she had even a touch, your pet would already know. He’s killed enough mages at your command, I’m sure he wouldn’t hesitate to kill another.”
The voices faded, but Leisa remained frozen against the wall.
Vaniell knew perfectly well what the gem did. And he’d definitely given it to her as an act of defiance against his father. He’d linked her with the Raven against his father’s wishes. Was he not his father’s puppet after all?
But that wasn’t the worst of it. The Raven knew she was a mage, and the king knew Evaraine was not.
Did that mean the Raven had known all along that she wasn’t Evaraine?
And if he did, did he believe she was merely a convenient body double, or did he know…
Oh, dear sweet Abreia, was that why he’d stopped her that day? So she could overhear the conversation about mirror mages?
Heart pounding, Leisa tried to reason herself through the possibilities. Why hadn’t he acted? If he’d killed that many mages, why wait? Was he simply waiting for her to betray herself fully before denouncing her to his master? Or did he have his own reasons for protecting her secrets?
She needed to get back to her room.
Moving silently to the edge of the balcony, she peered over to gauge the position of the guards below. She would need to swing down and use the cover of the shrubbery to find her way in on the ground floor.
But as her gaze swung towards the looming bulk of the wall…
Her heart simply stopped.
The Raven stood there in the shadows, his featureless mask lifted towards her, his unseen eyes resting on her hooded face.
Leisa’s face.
She’d taken off the gem, and he’d followed her anyway.
There was no hope for her secrets now, but some irrational voice insisted that if she made it back to her room, perhaps she would be safe. But there was no way down that didn’t lead past the Raven, and no way up that she could climb. That meant through.
Into the private chambers of the king himself.
One way or another, she was probably going to die, but for some reason, she decided she would rather risk the king than his assassin.
Leisa bolted back towards the doors leading to the inside. Peered in. No one was visible but a half-asleep pageboy wilting on his chair. Probably a guard or two outside her line of sight.
She could work with that. But she had to do it before the Raven caught her, which meant setting some kind of record for speed.
Lock picked in eight seconds flat.
Guard rendered unconscious in four.
Page boy tied up and relieved of his coat in nineteen.
She pulled the coat on, tucked her ponytail into the back of it, and marched her way brazenly out of the suite, past the still arguing king and queen, past three more guards, holding her breath until she’d almost reached the main door.
“Where is Petrin?” One of the guards asked suddenly. “I’ve never seen you before. And why aren’t you wearing your proper uniform?”
Which was, of course, Leisa’s cue to run.
This time around, getting back to her room was much easier, as she now knew this palace nearly as well as her own. Well, Soren’s anyway. Just inside the doorway to a narrow servants’ hallway, she pressed her hands and feet against opposite walls, climbed up near the ceiling, and balanced there, arms and legs screaming as several groups of guards ran by. Then she dropped to the floor and jogged after them. Once she reached the ground floor, Leisa borrowed a scullery maid’s dress from a laundry pile and ditched the page boy’s coat, then made her way back up through the servants’ stairs. No one so much as glanced at her a second time, and when she peered out into her own hallway, it was empty.
The Raven had not yet returned.
She breathed out a deep sigh of relief, which was probably misplaced. He knew she’d been out of her rooms. And it was only a matter of time before he either reported or confronted her. But for the moment, the way was clear for a sprint to her door. She yanked it open and slipped inside,