Chapter 44

T hough it was hard to pry Corvin away from Jenny, Aria made sure he headed home before nightfall. Jenny offered to accompany her to Northglen, but the girl trembled as she said it, and Aria wouldn't put her in danger.

"I need a different kind of help." Gesturing to a stack of parchment on her desk, she said, "I've written summons for the Upper Court but not managed to send them. Half go by falcon to nearby estates. The others are scattered within the palace. I have to have at least ten members in attendance to hold an official meeting."

Jenny nodded, realizing the need. "I'll deliver them, Highness."

Aria thanked her with another hug. Then she forced her door open— forced because there was a guard slumped in the way, and she had to drive her shoulder in to dump him on the floor. She whispered an apology.

Then she ran down the hall toward the Artifact room. She'd already heard Baron's verdict from the guards.

He met her on the main landing, outside the Artifact room, and his smile set her heart pounding more than the run down the stairs. She crashed into his arms, sending him stumbling back a pace, laughing as he caught them with one hand on the wall.

"At least there's no wall of knives this ti—"

She stole his words with a kiss, delivered with all the fervor she felt knowing he'd come to the palace for her sake, knowing the danger he'd braved. After a day of drafting the same agreement a dozen times, she'd spent all her words, so she wrapped her arms around his neck and breathed deep the scent of lemons and kissed him with all the passion words could never say.

Though Baron held frozen at first, he quickly melted, and he returned softness for her urgency, kissing her in a way that calmed her heart, that made each solitary beat heavier and more meaningful, reverberating through her entire body. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her with a solid strength that promised to catch her whenever needed.

Then he pulled back, kissing her temple before whispering, "Thank you for your message."

"I can't believe you came," she whispered back, her cheek pressed to his.

"I only hope you can forgive the delay. There was a bit of cowardice involved."

Aria scoffed. She pulled back to look in his shadowed green eyes. "I can think of no one braver."

"A princess comes to mind. One who repeatedly meets alone with Casters."

"Most people would call that foolishness."

He brushed his bare fingers across her temple and around her ear before cradling her cheek. "It's trusting. Why should that be a bad thing just because Widow Morton took advantage? I can say with certainty it changed my life for the better. And from this moment on, whatever foolish or dangerous thing you find yourself required to do, you don't have to do it alone."

Aria kissed him again. The two of them alone in a dark castle made for its own kind of oasis, one she wished to stay in forever, to hold as a refuge while the storm raged outside, waiting for her.

Unfortunately, there was only so much time in the night, and some things could not be delayed. She broke for air, resting her forehead against Baron's.

"To Northglen?" she managed, dreading the journey.

Baron kissed her once more, tender and lingering, the light brush of his fingers sending shivers along her neck.

"To Northglen," he agreed.

The sky Aria had enjoyed only two nights previous now seemed ominous, oppressively dark beneath the empty new moon and scattered gray clouds. Even the lanterns she and Baron carried seemed to shrink against the cold night, lighting the path only a few feet ahead and sputtering fearfully in the wind as they reached the mountain.

Already dressed in a thick wool riding coat, Aria still pulled on a heavy cloak once they began the climb up the mountainside. Before leaving the palace, she'd gathered her new peace agreement, along with the false Artifact, and then raided her father's closet for something Baron could wear, only to find everything made of pristine white fur and emblazoned with the royal crest. In the end, she took her mother's riding cloak, which was black wool with a black fur lining, practical for travel.

She'd told Baron the truth, and as he fastened the cloak and pulled the hood up, he didn't miss the opportunity to tease her—dipping a curtsy and asking if he looked like a queen.

"Oh, hush." Aria laughed.

"Don't tell the twins I wore the queen's attire for an evening. Leon would never let me live it down."

"I'll tell him you made a stunning queen, and I'll enjoy it every time he calls you ‘Her Majesty.'" She sobered. "Are they all right, do you think?"

"Safer than we are. I worried Corvin would try to follow us, but I've not seen a crow, and I take that as a good sign."

"It wouldn't be hard for a black crow to disappear in this dark."

"Harder for him than most. Don't tell him I said this, because it's my main method of keeping track of him, but he's very fond of that caw . He makes for a louder-than-usual crow when transformed."

She had thought Baron's crow quite vocal from the start. She smiled fondly.

A gust of harsh wind caught her hood, and Aria pulled it snug, angling away from the wind. As she moved to remount, Baron stepped closer in the lantern light.

"There's something you should know. The woman with blonde hair you mentioned is my stepmother. I had my suspicions when you first told me of her, but it was confirmed when I sent a letter to Northglen. Her only response was to invite me to join the movement."

He scowled into the wind, face set in hard lines, and for a moment, Aria was stunned, both at the bitter fate and at seeing Baron truly angry for the first time.

"I'm sorry," he said, "for my family's involvement in what's happened to you."

She shook her head. "Family or not, you're not responsible for her actions."

"No, but when I see her, I'll demand an honest answer."

They remounted and continued up the steep path.

No matter how Aria had rehearsed, preparing her words and steeling her nerves, the moment she stopped before Morton Manor, she found herself shrinking within her cloak. A particularly strong blast of wind extinguished her lantern, and it seemed to her an omen of everything about to come.

Despite the late hour, the mansion was lit, cold rays of light flaring from the windows into the night. The main door opened, and a broad-shouldered man stepped onto the covered porch. Aria recognized him by description only—Richard Langley. Stone Caster.

"I've come to speak to Widow Morton," Aria announced loudly. The wind still snatched half her words. Her fingers felt like icicles around the reins.

Mr. Langley eyed them both, then stepped aside without protest, holding the door.

Though it felt very much like walking straight into a trap, she and Baron entered the mansion.