21. Dagmara

Dagmara didn’t have access to the Mad King’s royal chambers. However, there had to be some evidence pointing to Claude’s involvement in the assassinations throughout the castle.

She was up late, mixing her potions that lay hidden in her makeup kit. A headache lingered at her temples, and a pain radiated through her upper back and shoulders, but nothing she couldn’t handle. As she made her concoction, mist began rising from the vial, and she instantly capped it. She couldn’t risk putting herself to sleep.

She crossed to the table and the teapot that rested there. She had called for tea earlier that evening, and it arrived moments prior. She hastily opened the top and dropped the vial in. Before the steam rose, mixed with the sleeping solution, she closed the lid.

Crossing to the door, she channeled her inner princess. She opened it to see Martine on guard, as suspected.

“This tea tastes funny, and it smells odd,” Dagmara said. “What are you people giving me?”

Martine’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Smell it yourself.” Dagmara held out the pot.

Martine took the teapot. The guard’s expression was laced with suspicion, but she fell for the trap anyway. She inhaled the steam rising from the pot before closing the lid. “It smells…” her voice trailed off.

Dagmara caught the teapot before it shattered on the ground. Martine slumped against the wall before lowering into a sleep.

Dagmara returned the teapot to her room before taking off down the corridor. Rounding the corner, she attempted to retrace the steps she had taken with Madame Annette. She passed a neighboring hallway and froze.

There was a figure that disappeared into another room. There wasn’t enough time to examine the figure, but the dark attire…the dark hair…the broad shoulders and tall stature…it was the Ilusaurian captain, Sabien, who she had killed.

Her heart lurched in her chest. Was her mind playing tricks on her? It was as if she was seeing ghosts. Fear fluttered in her chest, and she suppressed it before continuing down the hall. Turning the corner, she faced a dead end.

Inching closer, Dagmara ran her palm against the stone, but her hand traced thin air. While it appeared she was touching a stone wall, she wasn’t touching anything at all. Gasping, Dagmara jerked her hand back.

Was this an illusion? She knew the Guardian of the Mind could conjure illusions, but why would they need a fake wall?

The answer hit her immediately. To keep her in. She was a prisoner here. The Mad King put up a false wall to prevent her from snooping, but she wouldn’t fall for it.

Taking a deep breath, she walked straight through the wall. The corridor continued on the other side, and Dagmara smiled to herself. The only way to beat Claude was to be smarter than him.

A few guards were walking the hall, and she made an inconspicuous cross to turn at the next corridor. Passing some windows, lit with the moonlight and stars, she knew she had to be near the front foyer.

Then she heard voices. Frozen in her tracks, she began to follow them. The grand entrance was before her, and she peered around the corner.

Claude was charging down the staircase with two guards on either side of him. One was the large guard from the balcony and the other looked young and inexperienced, with a bow strapped to his back. She recognized him as Pierre, the guard who had saved her on the balcony earlier that day.

Madame Annette tried to keep up with the three of them on the stairs.

“Can’t you clear it in the morning?” she asked.

“No, what if the hounds wake up?” Claude asked, not even hesitating to glance over his shoulder.

Dagmara had to lean closer. She was on the second floor, and the group was below her.

“You really think someone in Nouchenne is an assassin?”

Claude stopped. He whirled to face his advisor, the sword at his belt making an arc around his body. “I’m not taking chances with Magdalena here.”

Annette was the first to admit, “I don’t like her.”

“You don’t like a lot of people.”

“Her mannerisms and language do not reflect that of royalty. I don’t think she’s a princess.”

The king paused, and Dagmara couldn’t breathe. She inched closer, trying to see their expressions without getting caught. It was hard to translate every word they were saying and follow the pace of their conversation.

Claude lifted his hand, waving away his guards. They obeyed, creating distance and moving out of earshot. Luckily, for Dagmara, she was directly above the king and his advisor, and she could hear nearly everything.

“Her father and brother just died, how do you want her to act?” Claude asked, his voice coarse.

“It’s not about how she is acting. When I examined her hands earlier, they were calloused.”

“So? Maybe they teach princesses to fight in Azurem.”

“They don’t,” Annette responded, “furthermore, I know it has been years since that portrait, but she has filled out and doesn’t have her mother’s proportions at all.”

Claude laughed. “I’m not going to question her figure.” His voice shifted lower. “Even you can admit she’s beautiful.”

A strange, nervous feeling erupted in Dagmara’s stomach upon hearing the complement.

Annette was relentless. “Her hair is dyed.”

The feeling evaporated instantly, and Dagmara gripped her braid. How did Annette know?

“Give it a rest,” said Claude. “Does it even matter? You know I don’t intend to go through with the marriage anyway.”

Dagmara craned her neck to hear better.

“I’m only suggesting to test her,” Annette said.

“Test her?” Claude’s voice became sharper. “I’m trying to gain her trust. You want me to ask for a display of magic?” He scoffed.

“Not a display,” Annette replied. “Just a test.”

There was a pause. “If she senses me trying to compel her, my plan is over.”

“If she isn’t the true princess then your plan won’t work at all.”

“Listen, somehow Princess Magdalena is still alive when she was supposed to die alongside her brother and father.”

Dagmara covered her mouth with her hand, muting her gasp.

Claude continued, “Until you find any real proof, I will continue to believe the woman here is Princess Magdalena. I will use her to Ilusauri’s advantage, find out what she knows, and then I can get rid of her.” There was a pause, before Claude continued, “Annette, I’m so close. This is my chance.”

Dagmara could feel her heart pounding against her chest. Tears began to well in her eyes. Magda was right all along. There was a list of royals to kill—the royals who already had their gift. As long as he thought Dagmara was Magda, he would want her dead.

“What happens if she decides to return to Azurem?”

Claude’s voice turned dark, rumbling in his chest. “She can’t leave. Tell everyone she is not allowed outside the castle. Call more guards. I want more security around her room.”

Dagmara had to get back to her chamber before someone noticed she was gone.

Annette was unfazed by the shift in his tone. “Well, you may have already scared her off with your actions this afternoon.”

Claude responded, but his voice was too quiet, and Dagmara was unable to understand any more. She was distracted by a man approaching the king’s guards, whispering something in Pierre’s ear. Then Pierre stepped forward and spoke. “Your Majesty, there is news from Celestaire.”

“See if you can contact Reon, I have to get to Nouchenne first before dealing with Celestaire.” His footsteps pounded on the ground. “We need Sabien back to deal with this. Where the hell is he?”

He exited the room, Pierre and the large guard trailing him.

The door slammed, leaving Dagmara in near silence. The tapping of boots on the ground signaled Annette was leaving as well, no doubt to call for more security as the king had demanded.

Dagmara’s breath was ragged, and her hands shook.

Claude had no intention of marrying Magda. He wanted information. Whether he wanted to know how she escaped his assassins, or if anyone else in Azurem could track it back to Claude, one thing was for certain—she couldn’t tell Claude anything that she knew, otherwise, her life would be worthless to him.

She stood and raced back to her chambers. If they were increasing security to watch her, the only way to find proof of Claude’s crimes would be if she was welcome in the royal wing.

I will use her to Ilusauri’s advantage, find out what she knows, and then I can get rid of her.

She had to beat him at his own game.

She would marry him and search his personal room and study before he got any information out of her, whatever it was that he wanted.

And before he found out that she killed Sabien.