Page 25 of The Black Key

I pause. “Like the one I used to sneak into Ash’s room?”

I can hear Lucien smile. “Yes. Look at that, your tryst had its uses.” His tone is gently teasing.

“So one of those tunnels might lead to the medical room?”

“Definitely. Royals do not like wheeling pregnant surrogates through their gilded halls when they are ready to be sent to the birthing facility. Or dead surrogates to the morgue. They prefer a subtler exit. Many of these are close to the garages, so you might want to start there.”

“Thank you, Lucien,” I say fervently. “Any more news on . . . on the Electress’s plans?”

“None, though if you recall before you so suddenly decided you had to come back here, I never had concrete proof. Only snippets of conversation between the Exetor and the Electress.”

“What were they saying?”

“I distinctly remember the Exetor saying something about a wedding and the Electress laughing and saying a shroud might be more appropriate than a dress.”

“That could be about anything,” I say.

“Yes, but you don’t live with the Electress. She despises the Duchess. She’s constantly asking me to check up on the Duchess’s surrogate, to find out how she’s doing, the state of her pregnancy. The problem is, since the engagement has been officially announced, any attempt on Hazel’s life would be seen as an attempt on the future Electress’s. It would be considered treason.”

“And you think the Electress would risk that?”

Lucien sighs. “I am not sure. She takes her situation entirely for granted. It would not surprise me to think that she holds herself above the law. But remember, she is not truly royal. There are many in this circle who would turn on her in an instant, who would clamor to replace her with a true royal.” There’s a pause. “The troubling issue is that she has not outwardly asked for my help. If anyone were to be able to accomplish a discreet surrogate killing . . .”

“Please,” I say. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

“I would never do it, of course,” Lucien says. “But she has asked me before. Why does she not seek my help now?”

“Maybe because you haven’t done it in the past,” I suggest.

“Maybe . . .”

A twig snaps near my hiding spot, followed by the sound of voices.

“Someone’s coming,” I hiss.

The arcana drops, silent and lifeless, into my open palm.

“. . . don’t even know where she came from,” a girl is saying. “She just showed up.”

“I thought for sure the Duchess would make you the new lady-in-waiting,” a second voice says. I peer through the branches and see Mary, Carnelian’s maid, with another servant.

“I know,” Mary replies. “But it wasn’t the Duchess who hired her. It was Garnet.”

“Do you know what I bet it is?” the second girl says slyly.

“What?”

“She’s really here for him. A little plaything for the royal son. I can’t imagine Coral is all that exciting behind closed doors.”

Mary stops and raises an eyebrow. “Oh yes.” She giggles. “Elizabeth, I think you might be on to something.”

Elizabeth shrugs. “So the Duchess will probably take care of her the same way she did the mute.”

The two girls laugh, and it takes all my effort to remain rooted in my spot, not to join with Earth and have the ground open up beneath their feet or the trees tear them to pieces.

“Let’s get inside,” Mary says.

I wait a full minute before returning, head spinning, to the kitchen.