Evangeline would have rather gone alone. But earlier, Havelock had been the sole guard who hadn’t looked at her with pure loathing. He’d also suggested that Tiberius postpone the wedding to Marisol, which showed bravery as well as good intuition on his part. If she were going to be safe with anyone, it would probably be Havelock.
There were more protests as they ventured out the door:
“The council members are on their way!”
“You can’t leave now!”
“You’re too tired—you’re going to pass out if you walk all that way!”
And then there was a lower voice, inside her head, speaking only to her.
Little Fox. Where are you?
It’s about time, she thought. I’m heading to you right now.
Don’t—Jacks’s voice turned worried. I’ll come to you.
Evangeline found herself smiling just a little. She liked that he sounded concerned.
Just wait for me, she thought. She was already on her way. And she thought it wasn’t very far.
Evangeline had only been to the brightly lit receiving solarium once, with Apollo. He’d taken her and Marisol on a tour of Wolf Hall when they had first moved into the castle. She’d been enchanted by the beautiful fortress that Wolfric Valor was rumored to have built as a gift for his wife, Honora. Evangeline had imagined there were secret passages behind every tapestry and trapdoors hidden beneath the carpets. But now, with fatigue clouding her vision, everything was a blur of stones and vaulted ceilings, fireplaces to battle the endless drafts, sconces full of unlit candles, the occasional bust, and the not-so-occasional portrait of Apollo.
When she passed one of Apollo and Tiberius, with arms around each other’s shoulders, she had to pause. Apollo looked so happy and vibrant. It was the same way he’d often looked at her. She’d thought his expressions had been pure enchantment, but now it was painfully tempting to wonder if things had been realer than she’d believed, if she’d been right to hope they could have really fallen in love. But she would never know. What would have been was a question that no one ever knew the answer to.
Evangeline started walking again, following Havelock into a windowless hall void of tapestries and lit by crude torches that smelled of earth and smoke and secrets. She might have only been to the receiving solarium once, but this was utterly unfamiliar.
“Is this the right way?” she asked.
“We had to take a detour,” said Havelock. His face was impassive, the perfect palace soldier.
If not for the creeping feeling of unease crawling over her skin jolting her back to alertness, Evangeline might have believed him.
Did you get lost, Little Fox? Jacks’s voice again, but he sounded farther away than before.
Maybe you should meet me after all, she thought back.
Then to Havelock: “I think I’m going to turn around.”
“That would be a mistake.” The lilting voice came from behind her.
53
Evangeline spun around.
The girl was about her age. Her face was round and her long dark hair was tied back, giving a clear picture of a starburst mark the color of currant wine on her left cheek.
“Who are you?” Evangeline asked.
The girl was dressed as a palace servant in a little cap and a wool gown with a cream apron, although Evangeline wondered if the clothes were borrowed, for they were ill fitting and she’d never seen this girl before. Her birthmark was something Evangeline would have recognized.
“What’s going on?” She reached for Jacks’s dagger, tucked into the belt of her mourning dress. It had been seized from her during her arrest, but it was one of the first things she’d taken back.
The girl held up her hands in a peaceful gesture, revealing a tattoo on the underside of her wrist: a circle of skulls that reminded Evangeline of something that her overtaxed mind couldn’t remember just then. “Havelock and I aren’t here to hurt you. We have something we need to show you.”
Evangeline gripped her knife tighter. “Forgive me for being a little dubious on that front.”
“Prince Apollo is alive,” announced Havelock.
Evangeline shook her head. She believed in a lot of things, but not people coming back from the dead. “I saw him die.”
“You saw him poisoned, but it didn’t kill him.” The girl gave Evangeline a taunting smile. One part triumph, one part dare to argue back.
She was definitely not a servant, and Evangeline wanted to ask exactly who she was, but that didn’t seem like the most vital question. “If Apollo is alive, then where is he?”