Chapter 46

Chapter

Forty-Six

ALYX

M uch to the frustration of my guards and lady’s maids, I managed to cancel all of my plans for the day and retire to my bedroom after breakfast, claiming I had a migraine. Once I was sure no one would bother me, I changed and went over my plan once more.

Today, I am Alyx the assassin, not Princess Alyx. Donning one of my many guises, I pulled on a servant’s uniform, tucking my distinctive red hair up beneath a cap. Thankfully, many of the palace staff members wear their hair like this, so it will not make me stand out. The point of this disguise is to blend in, and my hair does the opposite. I also have to be conscious of my posture. Nobility walks around with an upright stance, their sense of self-importance giving them a lift. Assassins move fluidly, like a cat through the darkness. Servants, however, are always in a hurry and keep their gazes down to avoid offending any of the nobility.

Nobility never notices the servants, and the guards are so focused on making sure no one gains access to the palace that they don’t bother to check that all of the servants are supposed to be here, which means I have full access to the palace and no one will question why I’m here. The staff turnover seems to be fairly high, so I shouldn’t be called out by the rest of them, not to mention they are so busy they don’t have the time to look for new faces.

With a huge mound of folded sheets, I hurry across the courtyard, keeping my steps even. If I run, that would catch attention, just as it would if I were to slowly cross the open space. With my gaze lowered and focused ahead, no one will know that I am actually tracking Queen Mother from the corner of my eye.

I am determined to find proof of Queen Mother’s betrayal. I have been watching her since the moment she awoke. The news about Oakenstram was broken to her this morning and discussed over breakfast. She seemed shocked at the loss of the lord, but I detected no sign of fear that it would lead back to her. Joha was more distressed, his gaze darting to me in what would look like concern for his betrothed, yet really, I know he’s wondering if I was the one who killed the lord.

Once I excused myself with the tale of a migraine, I donned my maid’s uniform and continued stalking her. So far, I haven’t seen or heard anything incriminating. I am a patient woman, however, and do not give up that easily.

Joha and Queen Mother don’t get on, but she is the only family he really has left, so I won’t accuse her of this until I have proof. Crux would call me weak and soft-hearted for this, delaying our plan to protect the king, but he doesn’t understand the situation like I do.

Perhaps I am going soft, but I will not destroy the king in the process of trying to save him.

Once I reach the outbuilding that I was heading to, I dump the sheets in a cupboard and glance through a gap in the wooden walls to check if the coast is clear. While I am least likely to be discovered while disguised as a servant, that doesn’t mean I should let my guard down. That is when mistakes happen, and I haven’t gotten to where I am today by making sloppy mistakes.

When I cannot be with Queen Mother, I know Crux’s little rats will direct me to her. Just as the thought crosses my mind, I see one scurry past, flashing me a signal with his hands, telling me that all is clear.

Standing up straight, I brush down the front of my dress and hurry across the courtyard once more. Queen Mother was heading towards the hall for a day at court, her entourage around her as she slowly moved through the palace grounds. She has no idea she’s being stalked by a predator.

I remember the first time I was ever brought to the palace, the memory ingrained in my mind. I must have been around five years old and viewed everything with a child’s eye.

With my father holding my left hand and my mother on the right, we walked together as a united family. My mother explained that most children of nobility had nannies who looked after them all the time to allow their parents to work and attend court. We did things a little differently. While my father worked a lot, he always made sure to spend the evenings with us, telling me fantastical stories and kissing my forehead before bed. Mother spent as much time as possible with me, teaching me to make bread and cakes as well as read and write, which was unheard of back then, and when she did have to attend court, our housekeeper would care for me.

Over time, my memories have faded, partially because I pushed them away, too painful to remember. Because of this, I don’t remember what my parents looked like, but I know my mother was beautiful and that my father had a beard that used to tickle my face.

Even now, as I glance around and remember that very first visit to the palace, my heart swells with fondness and aches with grief. I will not push those memories away any longer. I will embrace them and hold them close to me like I should have done all these years.

The palace seemed so much bigger when I was a child, and all the lords and ladies were arriving in coaches, wearing glittering gowns and tailored jackets. I don’t recall what event was being celebrated, but I know my mother was anxious about the whole thing. She and my father had argued about it the night before, not wanting to attend. My father must have won the argument, though, since we did go.

Reaching the main palace building, I blink several times to shift from the memory to the present day. I have the strangest feeling as I weave through the corridors, as though I am seeing two versions of what’s before me—the present and my memory of the hallways as a child.

I shake my head. If I get caught disguised as a maid, then everything we have done so far will be for nothing.

Slipping into the servants corridors to avoid the arriving nobility, I head straight to the hatch that separates the kitchens from the hall. The palace is much busier here, bustling with servants and cooks all getting ready to serve the gathered lords, ladies, and royalty. Thankfully, the memories don’t plague me here, perhaps because I never visited this part of the palace as a child.

Servants gather to take trays of food into the room, each being checked over by one of the advisors before getting approval. I bustle over and head straight to the overflowing tray I know to be for the Queen Mother.

“Stop,” one of the cooks calls out, stepping up to the hatch and looking me over with a critical eye. “That is the royal tray. Where is Elle? This is her assignment.”

“I was sent as her replacement. Elle is sick.”

Poor Elle, coming down with food poisoning or something just as terrible. It must have been that cake she ate first thing this morning—the one I laced with a purging potion. She will be fine after a day or so, but in the meantime, she will be curled around a toilet bowl.

The cook doesn’t look convinced, his hands curling around the edge of the tray to stop me from taking it, but one of the other servants behind me steps up to the hatch.

“She’s right. I share a room with Elle, and she was vomiting her guts up all morning,” the maid comments, not even looking at my face to see if she knows me or not, just grabbing her tray and scurrying out of the room.

I hadn’t planned for that little interaction, but it came at the perfect time. Not bothering to say anything further, I patiently wait for the cook to make up his mind.

“Fine,” he grumbles, heading back over to a bubbling pot, but not before pointing a wooden spoon at me in warning. “Do not mess this up.”

Nodding, I take the tray and slip through the servants door and into the hall where everyone is gathered before anyone else tries to stop me. I have been unfortunate enough to attend court many times now, and I have been paying attention to where the servants stand. Thanks to this, I know exactly where I need to be, and I silently take up my position by the throne on Queen Mother’s left side.

There is a little part of me that is anxious the Queen Mother might recognise me, but she doesn’t even glance in my direction, and after an hour passes, that part of me relaxes, embracing my disguise fully.

Court is boring.

Nothing Queen Mother or any of the nobility say is of any use. At first, I got excited any time Oakenstram was mentioned, but it is all the same gossip repeated over and over.

I’m not quite sure what has gotten into me today, but my mind wanders into my memories once more. Perhaps admitting my heritage to Orion and Joha unlocked that part of me. I cannot decide if that is a good thing or not.

A memory materialises in front of my very eyes—the nobility coming to greet my parents and marvel over me, and the jokes my father would tell me when we were sitting at our table, just the three of us. My fondest part of the memory, though, is when the three of us danced together. None of the other children did, but my mother and father pulled me up and onto the ballroom floor.

My mind and body are split. While I am aware of what’s going on around me and can react in a second, mindlessly scanning for words that might incriminate Queen Mother, my memories fill my mind. For the first time in years, I feel like crying over the loss of my parents. Of course, I would never do that now, especially not here.

Instead, I allow myself to cherish the memory of five-year-old Alyx enjoying herself before her world shattered and her life was changed forever.