Chapter 33

33

Ella

"Get a grip of yourself, Ella," I muttered, opening the doors that led onto the prince's balcony.

My thoughts exactly , Pip said as he scuttled out from beneath the bed. He looked like he was going to eat you.

That wasn't too far from the truth.

I breathed in the cool night air, letting it clear my racing thoughts.

The prince had nearly kissed me. Hell, I'd openly begged him for it. His scent, his power, the way he looked at me—they were as intoxicating as late-harvest wine. It was like being looked at for the first time by anyone, ever.

I dragged my hands over my tired face. "I'm in over my head, aren't I?"

Pip began cleaning his whiskers with his tiny feet. Definitely. He's like a big house cat luring you into a trap. I'd be more careful if I were you.

"He's hardly like a big house cat," I said, shaking my head. More like a six-and-a-half-foot tall, gorgeous mistake.

They eat you.

"It's not eating, not really…"

He's the predator, and you're the prey. Go into the jaws of death if you want, but I'm keeping my distance.

I shivered. He was a predator. He had the power to take whatever he wanted, and whomever he wanted. According to the stories in the village, he did. Ruthlessly.

But those stories no longer matched the man I was coming to know.

I sighed and rested my forearms against the stone railing. The balcony looked like it wrapped around the entire tower, and the view was beyond anything I'd ever imagined. The prince's tower was positioned at the northern end of the castle, perched atop the sheer cliff face. I heard the roar of the river below, though I couldn't see it. Instead, I looked out over the lights of the town that shone like twinkling stars.

What did he see when he looked out? Did he appreciate the beauty? Did he think of the people he ruled? Did he even care?

My gaze dropped to the old walls that bounded the servants' garden below. I hadn't considered it before, but now that I saw them from above, a section of the outer walls was different than the rest. The battlements were all crenelated and topped with iron spikes—a popular place for impaling criminals. Each of the walls had a wide walkway for guards except for a section of the north wall, right above the staff garden. It had crenelations, but no wall-walk or stairs to the top.

I'd never given it much thought. Perhaps sentries weren't needed on that wall because it overlooked the cliff. Still, it was curious. The longer I stared at the architecture, the more certain I became that something about the northern end of the castle just didn't make sense. My intuition prickled. Belle had mentioned rumors about a part of the castle beyond the royal tower—but nothing was there. Just a plunge to the river below.

Perhaps rumors were all that they were.

Letting the frustrating thoughts drift away, I idly picked a dried tendril of ivy that clung lifelessly to the stone. I followed the tendril, finding more along the outer face of the balcony. "Poor thing, what happened to you?"

I lit one of the lanterns and inspected the enormous balcony. Several large pots of withered plants decorated the large outdoor space, but they were in the wrong places. The roses and miniature fruit trees needed more light, while the begonias needed less. All of them needed watering and pruning.

"Either the prince wasn't blessed with a green thumb or his gardener has abandoned him," I said to the withered begonias.

Or the prince ate him , Pip added as he leapt onto the railing. Because that's what they do. Like cats.

I found a porcelain pitcher and filled it with water, then returned to Pip. He'd already nipped the dead buds off the roses and was digging around in the begonias.

We spent the next hour tending to the dilapidated balcony garden by lanternlight and practicing my magic. I spoke to the flowers, trying to coax them back to life with mixed results. Brushing the soil from my hands, I stood and appraised our work. The ivy might not make it, but the roses and begonias had a good fighting chance. "I think our work here is done, Pip. Should we get something to eat?"

He climbed onto the railing and nodded eagerly.

Soft wings beat against the air, and Pip froze, eyes wide and staring at the sky.

A shadow cut through lanternlight.

I lurched forward and scooped up the little rat as a large barn owl plummeted down from the sky. "Oh, no, you don't, sir!"

The bird landed a few paces away. It tilted its head to the side and blinked twice. That was my dinner , it said in a dejected male voice.

"I should hope not. This is Pip, my friend . He is definitely not dinner."

The owl blinked again and eyed Pip. You're a whisperer. How delightful. I wouldn't eat the friend of a whisperer, even one that was so plump and mouthwateringly scrumptious.

I held Pip a little further away. "I'd appreciate that, and I promise that I'll bring you something from the kitchen tomorrow night."

Perhaps a bit of chicken or duck. I do love the way they prepare it here , the owl said matter-of-factly.

I frowned as I pet Pip, whose heart was still racing. "I didn't think owls ate cooked food, but sure."

I have quite refined tastes. He eyed Pip again, who darted up my arm and burrowed into my dress. There are many tasty morsels here in the castle, though most do not scurry so invitingly.

I glanced out at the darkened courtyard. "You have such keen vision—you must know the castle grounds very well."

The owl stretched his wings, his creamy white feathers a stark contrast to the night sky. Of course I do. This is my home. I know every window, tower, courtyard, and garden, as well as the fields and forests around it.

Hope sparked at the opportunity. I'd searched the castle inside and out, but never from above. "My, you are an accomplished explorer," I said, doing my best to butter up the pompous birdie. "Is there anything beyond the northern wall? A hidden part of the castle, or something perched on the cliff face?"

The owl opened its beak and appeared to yawn. You mean the fancy garden with the golden pavilion?

My breath stilled as I looked out across the castle below. "There's another garden?"

Near the very big tower.

I nodded. "So, it's near this tower. This is the largest tower in the castle."

The owl looked at me with an expression that suggested he was tapping into his last reserves of patience. No. The big tower.

I looked out across the courtyard again. "I don't see anything. There's just the cliff."

That is because you are on the wrong side of the wall , he said, as if I was a silly child. You can't see it from this side.

My thoughts stumbled. What he said made no sense. "I can't see it from this side of the wall—but I could from the other side? How is that possible?"

I could show you—for a price, of course.

I was already supposed to bring the greedy bird cooked duck, but this was too important to haggle over. I sighed. "Whatever it is you desire, I'll fetch it for you." The bird's giant eyes flicked to Pip, poking out of the top of my apron, and I shook my head. "Except that."

I will require roasted pheasant, and perhaps some quail eggs.

I raised my eyebrows. How did he know they had quail eggs? It was going to be damned hard to get a hold of them, but maybe Sylvester could help me, especially since I'd given him all the herbs Siggy had sent with me. "It might take a couple days for me to get it."

He spread his wings. I will check for you each morning just before dawn in the vegetable garden, the one where all the juicy mice live. I'll show you where to cross the wall—though you'll have to climb.

"Deal," I said. I was about to hurry back inside when an idea tugged at the back of my mind. I pulled the crumpled notes from my bodice. "Can you deliver this note to someone for me? I'll bring you some pheasant again next week."

The owl blinked. I'm intrigued.

"Do you know of the small manor in the fields to the west? The one with pink rose bushes that blossom nearly year round?

The owl ruffled his feathers. I've seen it a few times on my hunts. It's quite a long way.

I quickly folded the sheet a dozen times so that it resembled a small tube, just big enough to fit in the owl's talons. "Bring this to the grouchy woman who lives there, and I'll make it worth your while."

Well, then, I'd better go if I'm to make it back before morning. Bring me your offerings in the little garden.

I stepped forward and awkwardly handed the owl the rolled-up paper, which he clutched with one foot.

"If I can't get it by dawn, check for me the next day."

That is suitable. He crouched and opened his wings, ready to take flight, then paused and looked back at me. Don't get caught scurrying out in the open, little rat. There are hungry creatures all around.

With that, his wings beat heavily as he lifted into the air.

Had he meant that warning for Pip or for me?