‘Do you think they still exist?’
‘I believe so.’ My father never threw anything away. And his private papers are largely untouched. ‘Send someone to Atratys. Someone you trust. With my steward’s help they might be able to find the letters.’
‘Very well. What else?’
‘Shall I summon Convocation? It is my right, as a Protector.’
Aron rubs his chin. ‘Not yet. If we move without sufficient evidence, and give Siegfried an opportunity to weaken our claims, we risk losing everything.’
‘What about Lucien?’ My breath catches in my chest as I say his name.
‘Leave it to me. I have friends among the Dark Guards; I’ve trained with them a little since losing my arm, and they accepted me when my own kind would not. I won’t be able to get Lucien out. But if I can get you in to see him, I will.’
I suppose I will have to be satisfied with that.
For the next two days, I wait. Odette still hasn’t emerged from her seclusion in the tower. I know that she must be there unwillingly, because Aron has also been denied admittance. Whatever her doubts about my loyalty, Odette would never separate herself from her brother by choice. At least during the deep mourning there are no court assemblies. No need for me to see Siegfried or the queen, no requirement for me to be civil. Instead, I keep to my rooms, while Letya tries to distract me. When she isn’t with me, Letya roams the castle searching for Turik. But there is no sign of him. Finally, late at night on the third day after I went to see him, Aron comes to my apartment.
‘I’ve arranged for you to see Lucien. But it has to be now. Someone I know is in charge of this shift, down in the dungeons. He’ll let you in.’
‘Thank you.’ I kiss my cousin on the cheek. ‘This means a lot to me.’
Aron waits, staring out of the window into the night, as I fasten a cloak over my nightgown and put on some shoes. We take a circuitous route down to the dungeons, going outside the Citadel at one point. When we arrive, the guards at the main entrance open the gates to us without saying anything. Inside is another guard with a torch; still in silence, we follow him.
‘They’re going to pretend we’re not here,’ Aron murmurs. ‘Don’t try to talk to any of them.’
There are torches in brackets spaced out along the walls, but they do little to disperse the gloom. The air smells bad: a combination of too much dirt and too little ventilation, I suppose. We seem to walk for a long time, and I wonder whether the dungeons are built out from the castle, whether we’re beneath either the mountains or the fjord. Finally, the guard turns aside. We stop in front of a wooden door with an iron grille in its centre. The guard places his torch in an empty bracket on the wall and retreats back up the corridor.
Aron gestures. ‘He’s in there.’ There’s a key in the keyhole; Aron turns it and pulls the door open. ‘I have to lock you in. You haven’t much time.’
I step into the cell and wait for my eyes to adjust to the sparse lighting. Lucien, in his shirt and trousers, is lying on a bench set against one wall.
‘Lucien?’ I kneel next to him. ‘Lucien, wake up.’
He opens his eyes and smiles at me. ‘Aderyn. I hoped I would dream of you again.’
‘This isn’t a dream. I’m here.’ I brush his hair back from his forehead, taking in the bruises across his cheekbones, the welts around his wrists and the blistered skin of his neck. ‘Oh, my poor Lucien, what have they done to you?’
He pushes himself upright, wincing. ‘How did you get in here? It’s not safe –’
‘Aron arranged it. It’s fine, but we haven’t got long.’ I sit next to him on the bench and put my arms around him.
He sighs and leans into me, resting his head on my shoulder. ‘Aderyn … Turik betrayed me. He gave them your father’s book.’
‘I know.’
‘Siegfried has been here, trying to force a confession out of me.’ He laughs; the laugh of someone who is a feather’s breadth away from screaming. ‘Siegfried, with his box of dead leaves.’
I shudder and clutch him tighter. ‘I’m going to kill him. And we’re going to tell Convocation the truth, about everything. I’m going to get you out of here.’
He sits up straighter and takes my hands in his. ‘No – you mustn’t do anything. You’re already at risk, Aderyn. Siegfried is trying to make it look as if the king’s illness and death are all part of a plot by Atratys to take the crown. You have to get away from the Citadel as soon as you can.’ He kisses me gently. ‘Once I’m dead …’ His eyes widen in fear. ‘Once I’m dead, he’ll come after you.’
‘I’m not going to abandon you, Lucien.’
‘You have to. I’m one person, Aderyn. You have to think of Atratys. That is your duty. Remember?’
I smile, trying to force an appearance of confidence and bravery. ‘Is that any way to speak to your Protector?’ He doesn’t respond, so I try again. I place one hand lightly on his bruised face. ‘Look at me.’
He lifts his gaze.
‘I’m not going to let them murder you. I swear it, by the Creator’s blood.’ I lean forward, resting my forehead against his. ‘I think I love you, Lucien Rookwood.’
‘I know I love you, my lady.’
The door creaks opens. ‘Very touching. But it’s time to go.’ My cousin’s voice – Aron is silhouetted against the glow of the torch burning in the corridor – sounds oddly strained.
‘Already?’
‘I’m afraid so. Quickly now.’
‘Lucien –’
‘Go.’ He kisses me briefly, fiercely, then pushes me gently away. ‘Aron – thank you. I’m in your debt.’
‘Which is where I like you, Rookwood.’
There’s no time for anything else. I am outside the cell and Aron is locking the door. I press my hand against the rough wood in an invisible, futile gesture of farewell. My cousin takes the torch from the bracket, leaving Lucien in darkness. The guard is waiting further down the corridor. Silently, he takes the torch and the key from the prince and leads us back to the entrance. It doesn’t seem such a long walk in this direction.
The well-lit rooms and corridors of the upper castle are so bright in comparison, even at this late hour, that I have to squint. Aron accompanies me back to my apartment. We pause at the door.
‘Thank you, cousin.’
‘It was nothing.’ He scowls at the flagstones, scuffing them with the toe of his boot. ‘I doubt you’ll be able to see him again. You should try not to think about him. ’
‘Have you had any news from Merl?’
‘Not yet.’ Aron glances up at me. ‘Lucien’s trial is likely to be set for tomorrow night. If they find him guilty – which they will – he’ll die the next morning. I’d advise you not to attend the execution.’ For a moment his mask slips; he looks stricken. ‘Oh, Lucien … I can hardly bear to think about what they’ll do to him.’
He can only mean that it will be terrible – worse than what was done to Hawkin. Bile rises in my throat. ‘Then we have to go to Convocation tomorrow. We can’t wait.’