“Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said, standing. “It seems it’s time for me to do my wifely duty.”
“Good luck, Captain,” Sergeant Beechum said, saluting her as she followed the servant out into the hall. Henry said nothing, just stared into his wine as Adela closed the door behind her.
She was scarcely down the stairs when she heard it open again. Adela stopped with a deep breath, catching the servant’s sleeve.
“I know the way,” she said. “Go on.”
The servant looked at her, and she could see the conflicting orders warring in his mind, the queen’s command that the royal couple be escorted to the chamber versus the princess’s trusted word. But the princess was here and the queen was not, so the man excused himself, hurrying down the hall as Henry caught up with Adela.
“Don’t go,” he whispered, catching her hand.
“I don’t have much choice, Henry,” she said, deftly dodging as his face closed in for a wine-soaked kiss. “I’m married, remember?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Henry whispered. “The only reason anyone still cares about that runaway is because Theresa’s still alive. When she’s dead and my father’s king, I’ll be the prince, not him. But that doesn’t mean you have to stop being a princess.” His hands circled her waist, emphasizing his point. “Or don’t you love me anymore, Dela?”
“Henry,” Adela whispered, stopping him with a finger pressed against his lips. “Josef coming home changes nothing. You know that. But so long as he’s here, we can’t be seen like this. If the queen finds out, things could get very sticky.”
“No, they wouldn’t,” Henry whispered, kissing her fingertip. “Theresa could never be mad at her perfect princess. Even if she was, your mother would smooth things over. Everyone knows the queen would never do anything to hurt her beloved Lenette.”
“I’m glad you’re so confident,” Adela said, gently extricating herself from his arms. “But for the moment there are appearances to keep up.”
Henry’s face screwed into a pout, and Adela leaned in, lowering her voice to a purr. “Don’t worry, love,” she whispered. “This will all be over soon.”
“I hope so,” Henry said, crossing his arms with a scowl. “The thought of you with that highwayman they have the nerve to call a prince makes me ill. If I could, I’d call him out tonight and finish him. Then you’d be mine for good.”
“That’s sweet, Henry,” Adela said, smiling. “But don’t go challenging Josef. You’re a decent swordsman, but I wasn’t entirely faking today, and I prefer you whole.”
Henry beamed at that, and Adela kissed him quickly on the cheek before turning away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Henry.”
Henry stood in the hall, gazing after her. “Tomorrow, Dela,” he whispered.
She waved one last time and vanished around the corner, leaving the young Finley alone with his longing.
Once she was away, she picked up the pace, walking briskly. Servants bowed as she passed, smiling knowingly. Adela smiled back, but her mind was only half on the princess act. She’d taken the long way to the royal quarters without thinking, walking along the castle’s eastern face, the face that looked out over the Unseen Sea. The sun was behind her now, and the ocean lay glittering beneath the light of the last sliver of the waning moon. She watched it as she walked, gazing at the long, flat line of the horizon. Somewhere out there, the Empress’s fleet was preparing. Ever since the queen had declared that the Empress was on the move, Adela had been watching the sea day and night, waiting for the first glimpse of the ships that would change her life forever. Her hand sank unbidden to the heavy, ornate short sword at her hip. When the Empress came, she would be ready.
The servant led Josef to a suite in the oldest part of the palace. There were five rooms in total: a sitting room with a single, narrow window overlooking the castle’s front courtyard, a dressing chamber, a washroom with a tiny fireplace and an iron tub, a small library, and, of course, the bedchamber with its massive bed cut from the wood of the last of Osera’s oaks before the entire island had been deforested to make way for the growing city. The servant insisted on giving Josef the full tour, and Josef let him, despite the fact that he knew the suite with his eyes closed. After all, for the first half of his life, these had been his rooms.
Very little had changed. The rooms had been cleaned and divested of the clothes and toys he’d left behind the night he ran away to become a swordsman, but the suffocating feel of the place hadn’t changed at all. If anything, the dark rooms seemed even smaller than before, though Josef supposed that was because he’d grown several inches since he was fifteen.