Page 34 of Stealing Tink

“Escorted,” says Acel. “I escorted you through the gardens.”

“Right,” says the princess, her voice clipped. “Because my mother asked you to.”

“The gardens lack the security of the rest of the palace⁠—”

“I know why my mother wanted you with me,” seethes the princess. “What I don’t understand is why you stopped ‘escorting’ me.”

“The queen has had me reassigned during those hours.”

“Because you asked her to,” says the princess. “Oh, did you not realize she would tell me?”

Acel doesn’t respond.

“It’s because of what I said, isn’t it? About wishing… Never mind. I won’t mortify myself by uttering it again.”

“Your Highness, the purpose of my life has and always will be to protect you.”

“And when I’m wed? Will that continue to be your purpose?”

“Your Highness⁠—”

“Stop. Calling. Me. That.”

The princess’s voice rings through the hall, its echo the cracking of a bell.

There’s a moment of silence, one in which I can practically feel the princess ache for Acel to respond, but her guard remains silent. The next sound is the clatter of heels against the marble floor, but the princess must not be returning to the ball, because the footsteps fade without ever passing me.

I wait. For a while, I wonder if Acel is such a skilled bodyguard that he’s learned to move silently. Perhaps he went after the princess. But then, heavier footsteps sound, boots against the floor. Acel shifts across the hall, coming into sight as he passes my alcove.

He stops, and so does my heart. I’d thought I was being silent, but he must have heard me. Noiselessly, I reach for the dagger hidden in an invisible pocket of my dress, but Acel doesn’t turn in my direction. Instead, he places his forearm against the wall, resting his forehead against his arm as he takes a stabilizing breath. The kind you take when you’ve exercised more self-control than you thought your body could muster.

I wait for him to move so that I can make my way down to the kitchen annex. Finally, Acel groans and pushes himself off the wall. He heads back toward the hallway off of which sits the ballroom, and I rock back and forth on my heels, waiting for the opportune moment to scurry from my alcove.

But then, Acel stops at the end of the hallway and breathes a heavy sigh.

And I decide perhaps the Nomad’s plan could use a little improving upon.

CHAPTER 16

“Is it done?” asks the Nomad when I return to the ballroom.

I offer him a half-hearted nod.

“Was that a yes… or a tick of your head?”

This time, I nod more convincingly, though the Nomad does not appear relieved.

But my mind is on other things. I whisk out my pad, write, then pass it to the Nomad. What are the marriage laws here?

The Nomad flashes me a grin. “Are you asking? Because you and I would certainly qualify, though I’d have to give a false name, of course.”

I punch him on the chest with the side of my fist. He clutches his heart in feigned offense.

“Marriage laws in this kingdom are complicated. There’s a rather strict class system that’s difficult to move in and out of. If you want to move up, you have to purchase a medallion. If you want to marry down, you must give up your class. Although it’s hardly ever allowed. Technically legal, but legality only goes so far when the poor lovebird’s parents have bribing money. Why?”

What would it take to purchase a medallion for the royal class? I write.

The Nomad whistles. “More than money. You’d have to”—He laughs—“You’d have to steal a tapestry from a Fate.”