I walked over, placing my forehead against the wood. “I already worked that much out. All those attacks were something of a clue.”
“You’ll see,” Sierra hissed, her voice full of rage. “Don’t think Damon will—”
Damon! I jerked away from the wall. How could I have forgotten Damon?
Ignoring the rest of Sierra’s words, I rushed back to the door and pressed my face against the grate.
“Excuse me!” I called. “Excuse me.”
“Pipe down,” one of the guards called back.
“Please!” I called louder. “If you don’t believe me, send someone to find Prince Damon. Tell him I need to speak to him. Tell him the prince and princess are in danger.”
A loud scoff told me Sierra had also approached the door, but she didn’t attempt to override my request.
The guards looked at each other uneasily, communicating silently. I held my breath until one of them shrugged and crossed over to knock at the internal door. It opened, and he held a whispered conversation with someone on the other side before returning to his post.
I let out a long breath and stumbled back into the room, collapsing down to sit on the pallet. I had done everything I could.
After another steadying breath, I pulled out the handkerchief that had once been my most prized possession. Now to work out how to destroy it.
Chapter 25
Some time later, I was still sitting on the pallet, staring at the piece of material in frustration. Burning it would have been simple, but the only light in my cell came through the external window and the grate of the door.
I had hoped ripping it might be enough, but it had a thick decorative border that resisted every effort to tear it. My mother had woven one of my hairs into the border to extend the enchantment to me, and I suspected she wasn’t the only one to have done so. How many generations had added to the border of the small scrap, unintentionally strengthening it?
I groaned. What good was recovering the handkerchief if I couldn’t destroy it? I threw it across the room, but it only made it halfway, fluttering gently down to rest on the floor.
“Ugh!” I stood up and kicked the pallet, a better outlet for my irritation, before retrieving the object and returning it to my dress.
If Damon managed to convince the king and have me released, I would go straight to one of the lanterns outside my cell and burn it. I just had to hold on until then.
“Lark! Lark!” The piercing whisper sent me hurrying to the external window.
Philip stood outside, his face stark in the moonlight.
“What’s going on? I couldn’t find you anywhere at the party.” His face twisted. “I thought you must be with Damon, but then the rumor came around that you’d been arrested. I didn’t believe it could be true, but…” He trailed off given the obvious truth of the report.
“I think the Poulterer must have gone to Mrs. Pine more quickly than we were expecting,” I said. “And she thought my behavior suspicious enough to report to the king, who evidently agreed with her.” I tugged at my braid, remembering how easily I had dismissed Colin’s reports against me. I hadn’t dreamed they might lead to this.
“This is madness.” Philip kept his voice to a strained whisper, gripping the bars and staring in at me.
“I’ll go to the king myself and tell him he’s wrong. I’ll remind him I saw you fighting for your life with my own eyes. We have to convince him there is no truth to this.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” I hissed. “What credibility do you have in the eyes of the king? You’ll just convince him that you’re involved as well.”
His eyes shifted slightly. “I may only be a servant, but I can be extremely convincing. I love you, Lark! I won’t leave you to spend the night in a prison cell.”
A strange sensation washed over me. A vague uneasiness, like a churning in my stomach except I could feel it in my mind not my body. I jerked back, staring at him.
I recognized that feeling. I had felt it at home while I experimented with the handkerchief’s powers.
When I held the object in my hand, any untruthful words seemed to shine in my mind, picked out as if repeated in fire across my inner eye. But I didn’t hold it in my hand now. Instead it rested against my skin, beneath my dress. Connected to it in such a way, it would only give me a general sense of unease when a lie was spoken.
Philip had said he loved me, and the handkerchief declared it a lie. But it couldn’t be. Everything he had said and done for me flashed before my eyes. In the space of seconds, I relived every emotion we had shared. I had been a fool, secure in his affection, and now that it was in doubt, I saw my own heart clearly.
I loved him, and I could not bear the idea that it had all been a deception. I loved my family and my kingdom, and I would spend my life serving them, but I would go to any lengths to find a way to do it with this man at my side.
Except now it turned out he didn’t love me after all. When he found out the truth of my rank, he would probably feel obligated to obey any orders I might give or pleas I might make. But I couldn’t bear to entrap him in such a way.
I gasped, feeling wetness on my cheeks, although I hadn’t noticed the tears building.
Philip cursed, pressing as close against the bars as he could. “Don’t cry, Lark. Please don’t cry! I’ll get you out of there. I swear it.”
A loud whinny sounded behind him, and a large head thrust him to one side.
I will kick down this wall, Arvin said, indignation lacing his words. I will show them you are not to be caged.
I chuckled shakily. “Even you could not kick down a stone wall, Arvin.” The sight of him brought back a flood of memories, centering around a ballroom and a deadly threat.
I kicked myself. Here I was, worrying about my heart, when even now, good people might be dying. I looked at my horse and then at Philip. He clearly didn’t doubt me for a second, despite my arrest. But what about me? Did I trust him? He might not love me, but could I trust him to help me with this?
I didn’t have to reach for the answer, it was already there. If his love for me was a lie, it must be a lie he was telling himself as well. I could not believe he would allow harm to come to anyone, let alone the crown prince and princess.
“Never mind me,” I said, pressing forward to the window again. “I overheard the men who attacked me. They have the poison that was used to kill the viscount. And their target is Princess Alyssa and Prince Max.”
“But they aren’t even here.” Philip frowned. “Harry harnessed a carriage for them early this morning. They haven’t returned yet.”
“I know.” Now I was the one gripping the bars. “They’re on the road, on their way home, and Sierra’s men have gone to intercept them. Do you know which road they’ve taken?”
Philip shook his head. “Harry will know, though.”
“You have to take Arvin and go,” I said. “He’s fast. Faster than any other horse. Together you can catch up to them. I know you can.”
A suppressed scream of outrage sounded from the next cell, telling me that Sierra was listening to our conversation. I couldn’t have asked for clearer confirmation.
I turned to Arvin. “Please let him ride you. Just this once. Lives depend on it.”