She would never reach the curtain wall gate, much less pass through it.
As the gate closed behind them, her entire body tensed. Had Luke had any idea of the palace’s fortifications? If it wasn’t already a trap, it could effectively become one.
Cade halted the wagon in a grand courtyard of fountains and flowering plants. Wide steps led up to the ornate entrance of the palace, the door adorned with carvings in an odd combination of dragons, horses, and . . . lemon trees?
A gentleman approached Luke. “Mr. Mayforte?”
“Yes,” Luke replied.
“I am Mr. Jones, Minister Silk’s secretary. On the minister’s behalf I bid you welcome. I’ll escort you to his office so you may meet with him.”
Luke nodded and dismounted. “Tam? Come here, lad.”
It took Karigan a moment to remember she was Tam. She climbed out of the back of the wagon, not sure if she was supposed to pretend illness or not.
As she approached cautiously, Luke explained to Mr. Jones, “My stallion is temperamental, and Tam here is the only one who can handle him besides me, so I’ll leave the lad out here with the wagon and the beasts.”
The secretary made some appreciative remarks about Raven’s conformation as Luke passed the reins to Karigan. His hands, she noted, were trembling. Meanwhile, Cade had climbed down from the wagon with one of the small casks of wine on his shoulder. He’d pulled his cap down low over his eyes.
“This way if you would, Mr. Mayforte,” the secretary said.
“One moment,” Luke replied. “I’ve final instructions for Tam.” He strode over to her and said in a low voice, “I did not know there would be so many gates and walls. I’m sorry.” Then more loudly, in a scolding voice, he said, “And no more sampling of the wares.”
And that was all. He joined the secretary, initiating pleasant chatter about the weather and the beauty of the courtyard.
Cade brushed by her and whispered, “I love you,” before hastening away to fall in behind Luke.
No, no, no! She wanted to run after him and grab his arm, prevent him from entering the palace, but she stood rooted, knowing that any such move would be seen as belligerent by all the men carrying firearms in and around the courtyard. The game must go on, regardless. They had all agreed. She clenched Raven’s reins in her hands, a scream welling up inside her as Cade climbed the steps, entered the palace, and the big doors closed after him.
She forced the scream back down and doubled over in something like physical pain. Raven lipped her ear, and she eased, slowly stood upright once again and breathed. She placed her hand on the stallion’s neck to steady herself and stood resolute once more.
She would not abandon Cade no matter what it took. They would leave the palace together or not at all.
When the doors shut behind him, Cade paused and, briefly, closed his eyes. It was like the door slamming on a crypt. A large extravagant crypt, he realized, as he took in the marble colonnades, the fabulous paintings on the ceiling, and the gold chandeliers. He hurried after Luke and Mr. Jones, aware of guards’ watching him. The wine sloshed in the cask on his shoulder as he strode along. He tried to keep an eye open for palace details, how it was defended, any sign of Arhys and Lorine, or maybe something of the Eletian, but the halls were hushed, and all he could think about was Karigan left behind in the courtyard all alone.
She is more than capable of taking care of herself, he kept reminding himself, but it didn’t help. How had it happened? How had he fallen so hard for her when he’d already prepared himself for the celibate life of a Weapon? He hoped that she would forgive him the lie if she ever found out about it, that there was, in fact, no choice. The professor had been correct in his teaching that Weapons must be celibate. Cade had given all that up, however, for something greater.
He had told her he loved her. He’d said those words before, but he thought they would have more meaning when not spoken in the midst of passion. He never found such words easy to say aloud, and he thought it was probably the same for her. At least he’d spoken the words in case events went poorly here, and if they didn’t? Then she knew his true feelings.
He frowned. He appreciated Luke’s attempt to give her a way out. She had the stallion, but not even that high-tempered beast would be able to scale the curtain wall’s gate.
They came to a large circular room with a dome ceiling, filled with the sound of splashing water and, oddly, the echoing laughter of children. A veritable grotto of ferns hung down from the ceiling, and a very natural-looking waterfall cascaded into a large basin with mossy boulders where children played with toy boats. Luke must have been just as startled as he to see it, for he halted.
“Marvelous, isn’t it?” Mr. Jones asked.
The water reflected shimmering light on the walls, columns, and the part of the domed ceiling that was not grotto. The children were up to their elbows in water, half-drenched, pushing their boats around and splashing their friends. Beyond the fountain, in contrast, sat veiled governesses like a row of mute statues.
“The emperor has fond memories of playing with boats in fountains when he was a boy,” Mr. Jones explained, “so he had this one made for the palace children.”
“How extraordinary,” Luke murmured, and Cade agreed, especially when one knew of how blood-thirsty the emperor could be. A place for children to play?
On impulse, Cade gazed at the children, both boys and girls, searching. Searching for one little girl. And there she was, with her golden hair, pushing a boy away from a boat.