My mouth hung open as I processed his barrage of words. “There’s no son—or daughter—at least not yet. And that’s why you’re pissed off? Because I went back to my time to get medicine that could save Lucinda’s life?”
He raised a finger. “You swore an oath to me that you would never take leave to your time without me unless your life was at stake. Only together. Did you forget our vow in such haste?” He looked like he might grab my shoulders and shake me, but clenched his fists at his sides. “What if that ring, so utterly fickle, had failed in its enchantment and you could never return here? You wagered everything we have for a maiden that you do not even like!”
“No, I do like her,” I said, stepping forward to find his face in the shadows of the courtyard. “All Lucinda Parker ever did to upset me was love you—the same way I do. How am I supposed to hate her for something I do myself as freely as breathing?” My breath shook, a quivery puff of ice. “The poison that Mistress Parker took was meant for me. So was the arrow that nearly killed Alice Grey. There was a fencing show at court while you were away, and almost everybody got up and left in protest when I showed up. The people hate me here!”
A blast fired somewhere west of the palace, chased by the muffled shouts of men, but Nick didn’t move. He gripped his forehead with one hand, holding it there as we stood in a deadlock.
An alarming crunch behind me turned out to be the approaching boots of Doctor Norris. “Your Majesty,” he said with a bow. “You may wish to be informed that, moments past, the queen’s lady, Mistress Lucinda Parker, succumbed to death. The minister shall make preparations in haste, so the queen may return to her chambers.”
“What?” I cried, tears obscuring my vision. “Mistress Parker died?”
The doctor’s reply was an apologetic bow.
I should’ve gone to my chambers to comfort Alice and Bridget, but my feet burst into a stride toward the blackness of the Privy Garden—as far away from the death scene as I could get. It didn’t matter that I was racing into ice-cold darkness; I couldn’t get what the witch had told me out of my head. Her warning blazed through my brain, burning away every other thought.
“This be the devil’s work…He shall come for thee… Thee hast been up to nay good…changing things that should not be hath changed. Lex talionis.”
“Emmie!” Nick called behind me, but I kept going, chased by the bouncing light of his lantern.
When I reached the dragon fountain, I dropped onto the stone bench, searching for an end to the nausea choking my insides. My fingers were like icicles, but the blue-diamond ring burned hot on my thumb. I’d had no idea what saving Kit’s life would do to this world, not to mention marrying its king, otherwise destined to wed Henriette of France. Now, because of my decisions, a kindhearted girl with a baby daughter would never open her eyes again and little Ellie would grow up without a mom.
“Why must you be out here in the chill?” Nick scolded when he caught up to me.
“It’s an eye for an eye,” I muttered, rocking back and forth to keep myself from freezing. “Lex talionis.”
He sat beside me and wrapped an arm around my back. “Again?” he said, short of breath.
“Mistress Parker’s death,” I stammered. “It’s payback for saving Kit’s life when she was meant to die—or for me being here; I don’t know. Maybe both.”
“Payback?”
I searched for an older word. “Retribution.”
Nick’s arm slid off my back. “How can you speak of saving the life of Kit with regret?”
“I don’t regret it,” I said, tears dribbling down my cheeks. “The truth is, I’d make the same decisions all over again. But that doesn’t mean what we did was right.” I gripped my neck, feeling like I was choking, needing air. “You know as well as I do that none of this has been right.”
Nick jumped up and crouched to face me. He collected my hands in his, desperate eyes finding mine. “Emmie, no. No, you cannot do this. You cannot lose heart now. We have come too far.”
I looked down at him through my swelling shame. How could I have ever believed that loving him this much would justify changing the path of history? How could I have been so selfish?
“I need to tell you something,” I said to his stricken face. “I visited a soothsayer while you were in the north. There’s one who lives near Robin House. She’s poor and harmless; please don’t do anything to hurt her. But I showed her the blue-diamond ring, and she recognized her cousin’s work in the ring’s magic. Her cousin was called Joanie—she worked for you once at Whitehall Palace as a maidservant.” It didn’t shock me that Nick demonstrated no recollection of the chambermaid, but his eyes hung on my every word. “This maid then went on to work for Mary, Queen of Scots when she was imprisoned. You know that Mary wants the English throne, and she made the witch Joanie curse the ring to get rid of you. What Joanie did, though, was curse the ring to take you far away from this world—not to kill you, but to save your life. She enchanted this ring to send you somewhere far away from here, where you’d not only be safe but happy. Do you get it? You would’ve been happy there…in my time…with me.”
A flush drifted into his cheeks. I wished there wasn’t more of this story I had to tell.
“But Nick, the witch also said that we’d been up to no good…changing things that shouldn’t have been changed. She said the phrase: Lex—”
“Oh Christ, may we have not a moment alone!” Nick interrupted, spinning to where Francis Beaumont drew closer with four guards.
Beads of sweat gleamed from the earl’s forehead, even though it had to be zero degrees. “Your Grace, the-the palace is...under siege,” Francis stammered like he couldn’t quite believe it. Nick and I gasped in unison. Francis continued his explanation, his voice dazed. “There is arrow fire beyond the west gatehouse. Horsemen in the hundreds have mounted an assault. They are armed with all manner of force and say hundreds more are at the ready. Henry Howard is leading them.”
Nick’s jaw hung open before he lurched up at Francis and grabbed his collar with both hands. “Are you damn certain?”
Francis nodded, his body rigid with fear.
Nick released the earl and pressed his palms together at his chin. “Go now and arrest every traitor that dares rebel against their king.”
“But the numbers of m-men, Majesty. There are beyond—”
“Make haste!” Nick spat, and Francis hurried back toward the palace, trailed by the guards. I got up and leaned on my tiptoes to see over the hedges. The glow of the lanterns had drawn nearer, and the air hummed with distant voices. Enraged men were attacking the palace, like something out of the French Revolution. I was shaking like a tree in a hurricane.
“You must be hidden,” Nick said faintly, spinning in all directions like a cave might magically appear before us. “Perhaps in some place within the kitchens.”
He went on, muttering about hiding spots and priest holes, but his voice drowned beneath the volume of my realization. The nobles’ uprising was no longer against me; it was against the King of England himself and the Tudor dynasty as I knew it.