Chapter 4

" T he nerve," Anyka muttered under her breath. She looked at her uncle. "She's not here because she knows she was wrong and she's too ashamed to face me."

Ishmyel nodded. "I believe you're right. It's very telling that neither of the Radiant royals nor their court have come down."

Anyka stared at the empty table across from hers. "No doubt they are all gathered around her, praising her efforts and giving her ego a much-needed boost."

Beatryce, who'd summoned a footman to fill her coffee cup, shrugged. "Maybe they just aren't here yet." She looked up at the footman. "Do you know where Queen Sparrow and her party are this morning?"

Anyka inhaled sharply. " Beatryce ." She was appalled that her daughter would ask such a thing. It implied that Anyka cared. Worse than that, it suggested Anyka had no other sources of information.

The footman seemed startled to be asked something so directly. He blinked hard. "My lady, it's my understanding Queen Sparrow and her family are taking breakfast in the royal suite this morning."

Beatryce looked at her mother. "I guess they're not coming down after all."

"Cowards," Anyka muttered. It only reinforced what she already knew—that she was right and Sparrow was wrong.

Lady Cynzia's grimoire belonged to Anyka and Sparrow had stolen it. Anyka would get it back. No matter what it took.

For the sake of those in attendance, Grym and Radiant alike, Anyka forced a pleasant expression onto her face.

Nazyr arrived. He bowed to Anyka. "Forgive my tardiness, your majesty. I was doing some research this morning and lost track of the hour. I am sorry."

Anyka cut her eyes at him. "Sit. What research was so important?"

He sat on the other side of Beatryce. "That's just it—it wasn't important at all, but I didn't realize that until I was well into it." He spread the linen napkin over his lap and frowned, gesturing to a footman for coffee. "A waste of time."

Anyka wasn't sure she believed that. Yes, Nazyr had come through with the amulet, but he'd been acting odd since yesterday afternoon. She thought about asking him outright what had happened, but she doubted his answer would be the truth.

Wyett approached the table with a note in his hand. "My lady, Vice-Minister Wickthorne sends his regrets that he is unable to join you for breakfast. He said he will share more when he returns."

"Returns?" Anyka frowned. "Where is he?"

Wyett shook his head. "He did not say, my lady."

She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. For the most part, she ate in silence. Beatryce had enough to talk about, going on about the events on the day's schedule. Anyka listened only marginally, enough to ascertain that Beatryce was participating in a watercolor painting class, a nature walk, and a cookie-making class.

"Maybe you could come with me to that one, Mother."

Anyka stared at her daughter. "To a class on cookie making?"

Beatryce paused her eating. "I thought it would be fun."

"To learn to bake ? You are the princess of Malveaux. You have no reason to learn to bake."

"I know, but it's still interesting. Didn't you ever do any baking with your mother?"

Anyka opened her mouth to answer, then closed it. She'd never baked with her mother, but she had done some cooking with her, if the creation of potions and poisons could be called that.

Anyka sighed and reminded herself that Beatryce wanted Anyka's company. That was something she ought to be grateful for, regardless of how insipid the activity. If nothing else, it would allow Anyka to keep an eye on who else Bea was interacting with. "You're right, darling. I would be happy to join you for the class."

Beatryce's eyes rounded. "You would?"

"I would. I do have other pressing matters to attend to, but I can certainly spare the time for you."

Bea smiled. "Thank you. I can't wait."

Near the end of the meal, Anyka raised her hand to signal a footman.

He hurried to her side. "Yes, my lady?"

"The berries that were served with the yogurt. Bring me a small bowl of those."

"Immediately, your majesty."

Galwyn loved his berries. She was spoiling him, she knew that, but berries were such an extravagance in Malveaux. He might as well eat them to his heart's content here. Although, he'd fuss about not getting them when they got home.

Her eyes narrowed as she sipped the last of her coffee. When would they return home? She was no longer sure. She would not be the first to leave. It wouldn't do to appear as though she was scurrying off, tail between her legs, because of what Queen Sparrow had done.

Anyka wasn't about to leave Sparrow here alone, either.

Staying was no real hardship. Willow Hall was comfortable, had an endless supply of delicious food and drink, entertainment for Beatryce, and plenty of space for all those in attendance.

And as long as Anyka appeared to be participating in the ongoing events, Sparrow might not figure out what she was really up to. That was reason enough to stay.

The footman returned with a small ceramic bowl, sealed with a square of cloth tied on with twine. "Your berries, my lady."

She took them. "That is all."

He bowed, then moved back to the wall. Toward Wyett, who was standing on one side of her, Trog on the other. The footman said something to Wyett, who nodded and looked at Anyka.

A bit of information had been passed. About what? she wondered. Wyett would tell her. He knew better than to keep anything from her.

He approached. "Your majesty, a private word, if I may?"

She nodded and pushed her chair back. She wouldn't get up. That would only draw attention to herself and cause everyone else to stand as well.

Wyett leaned in and spoke quietly into her ear. "The tracker has arrived."

A little thrill zipped through Anyka, and she smiled. "That is good news."

"Where would you like to meet with him?"

"Where is he now?"

"The stables."

"This meeting must be kept confidential. Is there a place at the stables that's private?" She could easily visit the stables under the guise of checking on her horse.

"Perhaps I can secure a room. I'll figure it out, then come to your quarters to bring you there."

"Very good. Do that."

"Yes, my lady." Wyett bowed, then left.

Anyka brought her chair back to the table. If she was going to the stables, it would not be dressed like this. "Beatryce, I have a few things to take care of if I'm going to this class with you. Please, stay and enjoy the rest of your breakfast. I'll see you for the class."

Beatryce nodded, already reaching for another pastry from the plate in the center of the table. "All right. I'm so glad you're coming with me."

Ishmyel looked at Anyka, the question in his gaze easily readable.

She put her hand on his arm before he spoke and said quietly, "I need you to stay with the princess. Keep an eye on who she speaks to and who speaks to her."

He nodded, looking a little unhappy that he wasn't being included in whatever she was doing. As if that would change her mind about including him.

She got up, taking the bowl of berries with her, and flicked her eyes at Trog. He fell in behind her. They went back to the royal apartment. Trog took up his post inside the front door. Anyka rang for a footman, who she immediately sent to retrieve her lady's maid.

Galwyn was on his perch in the sitting room. Anyka pulled the cloth covering off the berries and set the bowl down for him. "There you are, my love."

He trilled in excitement, hopped down, and gobbled up a plump raspberry.

Jenny arrived shortly, curtseying as soon as she was in the room. "My lady."

"I need my riding outfit."

"Yes, my lady."

By the time Wyett arrived, Anyka was ready and waiting. He glanced at her outfit as she entered the sitting room, Jenny behind her. He bowed. "I've let the stables know you wish to ride. Nymbus is ready and waiting."

"Perfect," Anyka replied. It was, too. The perfect cover for meeting with the tracker, who would hopefully soon give her an advantage over Sparrow. She glanced at Jenny. "You're dismissed."

Jenny curtseyed again. "Thank you, my lady." She departed, leaving Anyka and Wyett alone.

He tipped his head. "I should tell you that we are actually riding. It's for the best. For privacy."

"That's fine," Anyka said. "It makes the best excuse for going to the stables. Better than just visiting the horses."

Wyett nodded. "Very wise, my lady."

"Lead on." She hadn't been to the stables yet. She looked at Trog. "You'll be able to have time with your horse, too."

"Mmm," Trog said. "Trog like. Mol good horse. Best."

Anyka smiled as they walked. Trog's affection for his warhorse was sweet. She understood his feelings about the animal very well, not just for her own horse but for Galwyn.

Wyett directed them to a stall down one of the short wings of the stable. Mucklow, Anyka's stablemaster at Castle Hayze and the only one she trusted to look after Nymbus, her warhorse, stood at the entrance.

He bowed as she approached. "My lady. It is good to see you."

"You as well, Mucklow. All is well?"

He nodded. "Yes, my lady. The accommodations are more than adequate, and the feed is good quality."

"Excellent. I hope you've been enjoying yourself, too."

"I have, your highness. My lady wife and I are grateful to you for including us."

She gave him a quick smile. "Our ride won't be long. Once I return and you see to Nymbus, take the rest of the day off."

"Most gracious, my lady. Nymbus is saddled and ready for you, as is Trog's warhorse, and a Willow Hall steed for your valet."

She peered into the stall. Her horse nodded and blew air. Anyka grinned. "Hello, my darling Nym."

A stablehand led Mol and the Willow Hall horse toward them. He bowed. "Your horses, your majesty." He gently tugged the reigns of the Willow Hall horse. "This is Terra. Good, but a little spirited at times."

Anyka nodded. "She'll do fine."

Anyka took Nymbus by the reigns and led her out. Trog did the same with Mol and the stablehand brought Terra. Anyka, Trog, and Wyett mounted up.

Wyett looked at her as they rode out. "I think you'll find our ride most enlightening, my lady."

She understood. They were meeting the tracker in the woods. "Lead on."

They were only a few minutes from Willow Hall when Wyett raised his hand and drew them to a stop. He let out a low bird call, the soft, repetitive hoot of a moon owl.

A moment later, the call was returned. Then a mottled brown and black warhorse bearing a rider came toward them from the trailhead.

The man on horseback was Grym, his dark, silver-streaked hair braided back much like Anyka's was. The tips of his ears were clad in burnished silver while he wore dark green and brown leathers, allowing him to blend in with his surroundings. At his waist were a pair of daggers and a short sword. More daggers protruded from his boots, and another was strapped to his thigh.

Beside the bedroll behind his saddle, there was a crossbow with a quiver of arrows, and what looked like a small hatchet.

A scar lifted his right eyebrow, giving him an amused look that matched the gleam in his eyes. He was bigger than Wyett but still dwarfed by Trog. He tipped his head at her. "Queen Anyka."

She stared at him, saying nothing. Trog grunted and urged Mol forward until he was alongside Anyka.

Wyett turned his horse so that he was between her and the tracker. "My lady, this is Valentyne Greybone."

She lifted her chin. "Are you good at what you do?"

He smiled, showing off strong white teeth and crinkling the lines around his eyes. "You'll get your money's worth, my lady."

Behind her, she caught the faintest rustling of brush.

Trog glanced over his shoulder, nostrils flaring. "Rabbits," he muttered.

Anyka kept her attention on Greybone. "You understand what I need you to do?"

Greybone glanced at Wyett before answering her. "Find Lady Cynzia and bring her to you. Alive. Unless that's changed?"

Anyka shook her head. "It hasn't. I need her alive." She reached into the pouch at her waist, retrieved a small bag of gold coins, and held it up. "The rest when you deliver her."

Greybone nodded. She tossed the bag to him. He caught it one-handed. He looked inside, then tucked it away on his person. "I will see you soon then."

He wheeled his horse around and headed back the way he'd come.

Anyka watched him go until he was no longer visible, then she clicked her tongue to get Nymbus moving. Wyett and Trog followed. She planned to ride long enough to make her time in the woods believable.

The rest was up to Greybone.