32. Scarlett

Chapter 32

Scarlett

" G ood night," Scarlett chirped, placing her hand upon the door handle.

"Next week then?" Finn called from the table where they had been playing cards.

"Is this a standing weekly dinner invitation?"

"Would you accept such a thing?" Callan countered from where he stood beside her.

"Next week then," she agreed with a smile.

She slipped from their rooms and headed for the bridges, but before she entered the main atrium, she turned down a side hall. She had been exploring this side of the palace the entire last week and had found a little used closet. She slipped into it now and unstacked boxes. She opened the bottom one and pulled out the pants, tunic, and jacket she had stashed there a few days ago.

Silent as a wraith, she took off the pale green dress she had worn to dinner. She breathed deep as she slid on the clothes. It wasn't her usual suit of stealth, but it was nearly identical to Eliza's uniform she so often wore around the grounds.

She went to the corner and pulled an old sheet off the brooms and mops. She had stashed weapons behind them, and she strapped them to her body by muscle memory alone. In one of the dagger sheaths, she shoved three candles and matches. Then she braided back her hair and slung a lightweight cloak around her shoulders.

She had been watching the guards all week, too. She had learned their schedules, the places they left unguarded. They all reported unusual movements to Sorin. If she were seen going to the library this late, he would be told.

So she would not be seen.

She wasn't ready to tell him her theories yet. Not until she had proof. Not until she had all the pieces.

Coincidences were not a thing in her world. She was learning it was all connected.

And she was in the damn center of it all.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She pulled her hood up and drifted down into that place she'd been ignoring for months. She took a step from the cage where she kept Death's Maiden locked up tight. She let that darkness rise and writhe and twist, her shadows darkened as they embraced that darkness.

In less than three minutes, she was inside the library and striding amongst the shelves of books, deeper and deeper into the passageways. She sent her shadows ahead of her, feeling out the way so she did not need to light any torches.

Not until she had opened the passageway did she light a candle as she peered down into the darkened staircase. She looked behind her to see a small lever on the wall. A way to close the door from the inside.

And reopen it, she hoped as she pulled it.

When the door had slid completely shut, she pulled a long knife from her belt and began her descent.