choice.” She tied off the bandage. “Duty! When I saw the magistrate toss him a bag of coin, Mikael shrugged, like he hadn’t known about the bounty.”
“How did he know you’d be at the caretaker’s cottage?” I asked.
“I’m afraid he knows me far better than I know him. I’m guessing he was the one who followed me to the inn and alerted the Chancellor. When he didn’t find me there, he thought of another place I might go. The cottage was where we used to—” She sighed and didn’t finish her thought. She didn’t need to.
“And I was just the lucky bonus in the whole bargain,” Gwyneth said cheerfully. “Wait until the Chancellor finds out I’m involved. That should be ugly. I learned a long time ago how delightfully vicious he can be.” And then, for the first time, she opened up about Simone. Maybe when you’re about to die, secrets don’t seem so important to keep.
She sighed with an air of disgust that I think was directed at herself. “I was nineteen when I met him. He was older, powerful, and showered me with attention. I found him charming, if you can believe that, but the truth is, even then I knew he was dangerous on some level. I thought it was exciting compared to my dreary life as a chambermaid in Graceport. He wore expensive clothes and spoke so properly, and it made me feel like I was somehow just as important as he was. I passed information on to him for almost a year. Because of the port, a lot of lords and wealthy merchants frequented the inn. It wasn’t until two patrons I had given him information about turned up dead in their beds that I grasped how dangerous he was. He told me they had become a liability. Everything that I had thought was exciting about him suddenly became terrifying.”
She said by that point she was already pregnant. She made up a story for him that she’d found a job elsewhere and would have said or done anything to get the baby away from him. He didn’t try to stop her from leaving. He wasn’t happy about the child, and she was still afraid he might do something to her or the baby. She kept Simone for only a few months. She had run out of funds, had no one to turn to, and was worried the Chancellor might track her down. Passing through Terravin, she spotted an older couple who doted on some children in the square. She learned they were childless and followed them to a home that was neat and tidy. “They even had red geraniums in pots on their windowsill. I held Simone in my arms for two hours, staring at those flowers. I knew they’d make good parents.” She paused and I heard a swiping sound, like she was brushing tears from her cheeks. “After I left her there, I didn’t come back to Terravin for over two years. I was still afraid someone would make the connection, but not a day went by that I didn’t think about her. They’re good people. We don’t ever talk about it—I guess they know I don’t want to—but they know who I am, and they make room in their lives for me. She’s a happy and sweet little girl. Nothing like me, thank the gods. Or him.” Her voice cracked as if she knew she might never see her daughter again. Hearing the steely Gwyneth break squeezed the air from my chest.
“Stop!” I said. “We’ll get out of this.”
“Damn right we will!” Pauline growled.
Gwyneth and I sucked in startled breaths, then laughed. I pictured Pauline gripping a bolt in her fist with Mikael’s name engraved on it. Gwyneth reached out and held my good hand. I hung my other hand over Pauline’s shoulder and pulled her close. We leaned into one another, our arms tangled, forehead to cheek, chin to shoulder, tears and strength binding us.
“We’ll get out of this,” I whispered again. And then we shared the silence, knowing what was coming.
Gwyneth pulled away first, leaning back against the wall again. “What I can’t figure out is why we’re not all dead already. What are they waiting for?”
“Confirmation,” I said. “The conclave is back in session, and someone who’s a deciding factor in this little conspiracy is otherwise occupied. Maybe the Royal Scholar.”
“The conclave breaks for midday meal,” Pauline said.
“Then we have until midday,” I replied.
Or maybe longer if my backup