Snow White appeared to be in high spirits—she’d stolen out of Faina’s room roughly an hour ago, likely to receive reports. But despite her lack of sleep, her eyes were bright, and the smile she’d worn since last night hadn’t faded.
When she reached Angelique, she silently offered out her tray.
The only real noise in the room was Oswald’s blast-like snores—the warrior had passed out in an arm chair with his head tilted back, amplifying the sound.
Angelique picked up one of the three mugs and sniffed it, the rich scent of wine tickling her nose. Shaking her head, Angelique tried to set the mug back on the tray.
Snow White whisked the tray out of reach before Angelique could return the drink. “It’s sweetened and spiced,” she spoke in a voice so soft, not even Fritz moved.
“It might make me sleepy,” Angelique whispered.
“The warriors will wake up soon. They’ll take over guard duty,” Snow White said, her voice a tiny bit louder.
Ever faithful to his lady love, Fritz opened his eyes and straightened up in his chair.
It was on the tip of Angelique’s tongue to insist she was fine, but she could feel exhaustion creeping over her, making every muscle in her body heavy.
I won’t be any good to Evariste if I can’t function.
She glanced at the Lord Enchanter, who was dosing in a chair that he’d shifted to face her.
He also opened his eyes—which surprised Angelique; she’d thought he’d been sleeping. “Sleep, Angel,” he said in his soothing, musical voice.
Angelique shifted her weight back and forth, then reluctantly took a sip of the hot wine. It was chokingly boozy, but the warmth eased some of the stiffness in her joints and decreased the tightness in her chest.
“Any news on the mirror?” she asked.
Snow White’s shoulders briefly drooped. “I spoke to the leaders of the royal guard: nothing. Juwel was searched as well, and though we have witnesses who saw the thieves leave the palace, they lost track of them outside these walls.”
Angelique sighed. “That’s what I feared. They likely used magic in some way or another.” She tipped her head back to rest against the wall as she fought off a scowl.
The guards she’d sent to search the Chosen hideouts had returned empty handed as well shortly before the celebration ended.
The one bright spot was that they confirmed the dens were filled with documents and paperwork. They set up a large guard to make sure the Chosen didn’t try to come back to erase their tracks, and Angelique was hoping to ride out to inspect them later today…after a short rest and more food.
Snow White touched Angelique’s hand, jarring her from her thoughts. “Thank you; and I’m sorry,” she said.
“The mirror, Evariste, none of this was your fault.” Angelique glanced at Evariste—who had given up his farce of sleeping and was studying her from his chair.
“Will you tell me everything…later? After you’ve slept?” Snow White adjusted her hold on her tray as she peered suspiciously up at Angelique.
Angelique smiled fondly. Snow White is truly too good of a person. Even since determining I am obviously more than I ever claimed to be, she never once pushed for an explanation. I should tell her everything.
“Yes—whenever that is,” she said.
A frown slanted Snow White’s lips. “Fritz?”
Fritz popped to his feet even before Snow White turned to look at him, gently nudging Marzell on the ground with his foot while setting a hand on Rupert’s shoulder.
Marzell awoke with a groan and cracked his back while Rupert blinked awake. Once they weren’t quite so sleep addled, the duo looked up at Fritz.
“Our turn,” he said.
“That’s about right.” Marzell rolled to his feet and staggered a few steps. “Come on Oswald, Wendal, Aldelbert.”
Aldelbert leaped off his sofa with a disgusting amount of vigor. “Let us greet the morning sun and embrace our glory for the day!”
Wendal, the ever-faithful attendant, lunged to his feet, hopping over Gregori’s head to reach Aldelbert. “As My Lord orders!”
Snow White and Fritz exchanged an appropriately disgusting/love-filled gaze before Snow White made her way to the staircase that led to Faina’s loft-bedroom.
Aww, young love. I suppose you can’t fault them.
Bemused, Angelique shook her head as Marzell took control of the situation.
“Oswald, Rupert, I want the two of you outside the door. Gregori, take the base of the stairs.” Marzell pointed to the locations as Wendal helpfully patted down the enormous cowlick on the back of Marzell’s head that flapped with every movement he made.
Rupert slyly glanced in Angelique’s direction. “Are you going to find some dill—or perhaps some basil or oregano to make spells of protection for us?”
Angelique nonchalantly studied her nails. “I could spell you to smell like roses for the rest of your days. Would that suffice?”
Oswald rested the flat of his sword on his shoulder. “I liked you better before we knew you were a legitimate magic user, when we didn’t have to respect you.”
“Oh, dear Oswald,” Angelique chuckled. “You don’t have to respect me because I’m a mage. You have to respect me because I can terrorize you with a flock of chickens if you irritate me enough.”
“You still use that spell, do you?” Evariste gave up all pretenses of sleeping and stood up, stretching his arms out.
“From time to time,” Angelique said. “It is a surprisingly effective distraction.”
As Marzell continued to boss the warriors into proper positions, Angelique dug in her satchel—she still hadn’t changed out of her disguise-tunic—and unearthed her bespelled mirror.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to contact someone before I take my rest rotation.”
Rupert frowned at her. “You could contact help all this time, and you didn’t?”
“I can contact help, but I cannot—in fact—instantly transport them to my side,” Angelique snarled. She froze, realizing what she’d said, and glanced at Evariste.
He still wore that faint look of contentment he hadn’t lost since stepping through the mirror. “You mean to contact Clovicus?”
“Yes.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll listen in. I’m very eager to see him again—finally,” he said.
“Of course!” Angelique slightly bowed her head, then picked her way through the askew furniture, stopping by a window.
She didn’t care if the warriors heard what she had to tell the Lord Enchanter—they were allies, after all—but she needed a bit of light, or Clovicus wouldn’t be able to see her in the nearly dark room.
She twitched back one of the velvet curtains (half blinding herself in the golden light of the morning sun), then plucked at the spell that powered the mirror, directing it to search for Clovicus.
“Angelique? Did you free Queen Faina? What happened?” Clovicus started talking when the mirror’s surface was still swirling, before the spell completely settled into place and displayed his bright red hair and tired eyes.
Angelique laughed, overjoyed that for the first time in a long time, she could share happy news with the enchanter. “Queen Faina is safe, and the Chosen who were bespelling her have been chased out. But that’s not all!”