Page 6 of Deceiving the Cursed Beast
Isabel hadn’t saidanything else as I led the way upstairs and to the largest guest suite. She closed the door in my face, but I could see her shoes right on the other side of the door. She had her back pressed against it, relying on it for support as everything that had happened crashed over her.
I knew the feeling. A good meal and sleep would help, but it wouldn’t solve the problem.
Tugging on several of the threads of magic that floated all over the hillside, I summoned a tray of food—and a bottle of wine—that would appear in her sitting room. I had already eaten my supper, and it wasn’t actually that late, so I returned to my tower.
My suite connected to the northwest tower on the second floor. My bedroom filled the circular room on that level, with a staircase leading up to the third and fourth floors. No door connected the tower to the rest of the third floor, and only the towers had a fourth floor. The tower used to be my sanctuary. I’d escape for a few hours every week to read in the top level, or just work in my study on the third floor when I didn’t want to deal with interruptions.
For the past two months, interruptions hadn’t been a problem. The only other person—or, I suppose, the only human—in the castle until now had been the single secretary I kept to help me scour the archives. My tower was no longer a sanctuary but a source of frustration. It didn’t matter how many hours I spent here, reading through the journals of my ancestors, I couldn’t find any answers.
I settled into my now usual spot on top of the desk in my study and used another wisp of power to call in a journal. The first Duke of Truthhold hadn’t left any records, unless you counted the scores of contracts he passed through the node after locking it. No one really understood how he had made it so that the node magically enforced contracts. I had tried reading his son’s journals, but while they recounted several feats I could accomplish by using node power, they didn’t really explain why the Truths, as Sebastien referred to them, worked.
I knew how to make a meal appear out of thin air, summon a book from the library, and open doors without the help of hands, but reading Sebastien’s journals hadn’t helped me understand how Cecily had used the power of the node to curse me. If my family’s genealogical records were any less complete, I might suspect she had a smidgeon of Truthholder blood herself. Though she stillwouldn’t have the primary tie to the node, allowing her to enforce a contract. Nor had she shown any sign of manipulating the node’s magic before she cursed me.
Still, it was worth investigating if a member of the family could be cut out of the blood-tie. I called in Duchess Maelle’s journals. Despite being a younger child and female, she had inherited the duchy in an age when the rest of the kingdom still practiced primogeniture. The heir to Truthhold had to sign a contract guaranteeing certain behaviors, otherwise he—or she—could not claim the title. Maelle’s brother had thought to ignore this law, since he only had a sister to challenge his claim.
When their father died, Maelle inherited the primary-node tie. Her brother didn’t give up without a fight, though. Hopefully her journals would confirm the story that she eventually resorted to stripping him of his tie to the node entirely. And explain how I could do the same to Cecily. It wouldn’t answer the question of how she had gained access to the node power in the first place, but it was better than nothing.
I pored over Maelle’s journals for hours, finding nothing. Mostly, she wrote about the negotiations she presided over, rarely mentioning anything about her personal life. It was a very different read than Duke Sebastien’s journals. I still had another journal to flip through when I stopped for the night. It was past midnight, and I needed to be alert tomorrow to deal with my new guest.
Instinctively, I turned my senses toward Isabel. The node power that permeated every inch of the castle allowed me to pinpoint her location. I would have noticed if she had left the castle grounds—not that the contract would allow her to—but otherwise I had to concentrate to sense her location.
She was in the bedroom I had given her, probably having nightmares about the monster who had dragged her away from her home and life.
Four
Isabel
???
When I hadleft home, I hadn’t known what awaited me at Rose Castle. My father hadn’t told me much of anything. I had known that even in the best-case scenario, I’d be staying at least one night. Leort was the closest town to the duke’s home, and much of our size and prestige owed itself to our association with Truthhold, but it was still a full day’s walk. The town had been built based on geographic advantages, like the river that led into central Nemya. The castle had been built to take advantage of the node and the node only.
This was not a sought-after area to establish villages. There weren’t any rivers nearby, the land was rocky, and the dragons roosting in the Gaboor mountains made most people nervous—though they rarely ventured far from the jagged peaks of the mountains. Altogether, it meant that a journey to Rose Castle from Leort didn’t include any villages on the way.
Therefore, even with the magic pulling at me, I had taken the time to grab a heel of bread and a bit of sausage for my journey and pack a single change of clothes. I donned that clean outfit now, wondering what I’d do tomorrow. Perhaps I could clean the dust from the skirt I had worn the day before without ruining the fabric, but I didn’t have much confidence. I took my clothes to a laundry houseback in Leort, and there were no maids to clean my dirty clothes here.
I laced up my bodice and sighed. Even if I could get my clothes clean and wrinkle free, I’d still look dingy compared to my surroundings. Not that my simple linen blouse and wool skirt and bodice weren’t respectable garments, the type found in the closet of any middle-class woman in Leort, but the guest suite was more than respectable.
I exited the bedroom and stopped short. I hadn’t given the sitting room much attention the night before. When the duke showed me the room, I had practically slammed the door in his face. Then I had collapsed against it as the hopelessness of my predicament had settled into my gut. Based on what His Grace had said, my father hadn’t even tried to negotiate any limits to my work for the duke. I hoped that, when I read the actual contract, I’d find something. If His Grace was stuck with me instead of Sofia, then maybe there were other instances of sloppy wordings I could exploit.
After I had recovered enough to straighten from the door, I had crossed the sitting room without really looking. I had noticed the tray of food, and been tempted by the bottle of wine, but in the end, I had decided that collapsing in bed would do me more good.
Now I inspected the room fully, my mouth gaping as I took it all in. While the bedroom had a certain sort of splendor, the sitting room was extravagant.
Damask chairs, spindly tables, and assorted ornaments made of gold, silver, and porcelain filled every inch. I looked down at my wool skirt, then up at the lace—lace!—curtains on the window. Who wasted yards of lace to make curtains? Who wanted curtains that did nothing to block the light?
The room made no sense. Even for asittingroom, it had too many seats. A dozen people could sit on the various settees and chairs. If they could get to them through the maze of tables. I must have been even more overwhelmed than I had realized last night not to noticethe clutter. And luckier than I realized that I hadn’t tripped and broken my neck.
In a way, I felt better about my own clothes after studying the room. Even the queen’s finest gown would look inferior here. And even the shabbiest rags would look more tasteful.
My twin would be in raptures over the room, seeing each item as the expensive work of art it was and ignoring the disjointed design of the whole. Thinking of Sofia burned away the last of my wonder. I hadn’t even managed to leave a message for her before I left. She’d be worried sick by now.
I picked my way across the room, once more ignoring the silver tray balanced precariously on a skinny table between priceless knickknacks. It had changed from what I remembered the night before, the wine replaced with a pot of tea and several cups, the plate of food fresh.
My stomach grumbled, but I needed answers more than food. I planned to extract those answers from the duke no matter how much he tried to steer the conversation off topic. Even Chief Nassan admitted that no one could question a suspect as effectively as me.
???
I had noidea where to find a small cat in a large castle, so I began a systematic check. More guest rooms lined both sides of my hall. The suites on either side of mine had similar spacious dimensions made smaller by over-furnishing. On the interior side of the hall, smaller bedrooms filled the space and, if anything, held even more furniture.
