That he would be concerned about me. That he would feel . . . something for me, the same way I felt this strange, unwanted something for him.
I should have known better, though. A Morricone would never be concerned about anything other than a Ripley’s death.
I tore my gaze away from his balcony and pointed at my own. “My chambers are there. Help me up?”
Grimley hunkered down, and I climbed onto his back. The gargoyle flapped his wings, and we shot upward. A few seconds later, I slid down off Grimley’s back and onto the balcony. He tucked his wings into his sides and perched on the railing like he was a statue that had been positioned there.
“You’re sure that you don’t want to leave now?” he rumbled. “We could be out of the city before sunrise.”
I hesitated. It was after midnight, and most people were asleep, except for the guards. I could hop onto Grimley’s back and let him fly me out of the palace and away from Majesta to the relative safety of the surrounding countryside. I knew that Milo was making tearstone weapons, and his barbed arrow was still nestled in my pocket. I could return to Andvari right now, and everyone, including my father and grandfather, would have to admit that my spy mission and unexpected foray into Morta had been a great success.
But I still had far more questions than answers. Milo might be making weapons and plotting to assassinate his mother, but who were the true enemies he’d mentioned? And why did he think tearstone arrows would help achieve his ultimate goal, whatever it was? I couldn’t leave Myrkvior until I knew more about Milo’s plans. Thwarting his scheme was the best way to defend Andvari.
And I was also concerned about another prince—Leonidas.
Like it or not, he had saved my life, and I had given him my word that I would help him figure out what was going on. At the very least, I needed to stay at Myrkvior long enough to warn Leonidas that he was in even more danger than he suspected, that Milo was planning to kill him and marry off Delmira. The prince and princess had both been kind to me in their own ways, and neither one of them deserved to suffer—or die—just because Milo wanted to be king right now instead of waiting for the natural order of things.
As for whether to tell Leonidas that Milo was planning to assassinate Maeven . . . Well, I didn’t know what to do about that. Of course Leonidas already had his suspicions, but part of me wanted to keep quiet and let it happen. That would be one way to finally avenge Uncle Frederich, Lord Hans, and everyone else who had died during the Seven Spire massacre.
Oh, I might not have the satisfaction of actually killing Maeven myself, but it would still be a bloody sweet revenge. Let the bitch suffer the same way I had during the massacre. Let her feel the same fear, pain, terror, and panic I had that awful day. Let her see death slowly, inexorably approaching and realize there was nothing she could do to stop it, nothing she could do to save herself—
“Gemma?” Grimley asked, cutting into my murderous thoughts. “What’s wrong? Why are you clutching your pendant?”
I glanced down. My fingers had unconsciously fisted around the gargoyle pendant hidden underneath my dress. The pendant had gone ice-cold against my skin, trying to contain the magic rising up inside me, the raw, brutal power that I yearned to unleash against Maeven.
I exhaled, forced my fist to open, and dropped my hand to my side. The pendant remained ice-cold against my skin, but the chill didn’t numb the memories or the white-hot rage still pounding in my heart.
“Gemma?” Grimley asked again.
“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just thinking. As much as I would like to, I can’t leave. Not yet.”
His face scrunched into a frown. “The longer you stay, the more danger you’ll be in.”
He was right. Every second I stayed at Myrkvior was a risk. I might have made promises to Leonidas, but I had also made them to Topacia and my father, and I had to weigh my own safety against whatever information I might uncover. A compromise, then.
“Give me the day to snoop around and see what else I can find out about Milo’s plans. Then I’ll sneak out of the queen’s birthday ball, and we’ll leave.”
Grimley’s frown deepened, but he leaned forward and